Jac’s Journey

Brrrr. It’s cold. Damn cold. The lengths I’ll go to please my readers!

You said you wanted cold, wet and miserable. I give you cold, wet and miserable.

Guilin

Guilin is just lovely. Despite the cold, wet, miserable weather. Wandering around Guilin has brought me such joy; the beautiful parks, karst scenery popping through now and then from behind the rain clouds, Chinese people smiling at me. One moment was just wonderful; I was fulfilling my resolution made in the Philippines – passing a bar playing Seal’s ‘Kiss from a Rose’ at full blast, I paused to remove my gloves and get something from my bag, and started singing along. This Chinese woman stared at me in utter disbelief and started giggling. I grinned at her and she grinned back. I thought to myself ‘Heh darlin’, this is nothin’. You should hear them in the Philippines!’ And kept on singing. And laughing. As she did.

Qixing Park is really beautiful. It’s been a tourist destination in China since the Song Dynasty and is a brilliant example of a Chinese garden. Rocks, water, hills, caves, foliage, all perfectly placed. These Chinese garden designers really know what they’re doing; move over Alan Titchmarsh. Being inside the cave was wonderful – it was beautifully lit and the stalagtites and stalagmites were stunning. Also, it was warm!

Wandering around the night market, up to the South Gate, beautifully lit at night, finding restaurants, eating my favourite Gong Bao Chicken; it has been so lovely to be back.

But the worm started to turn. My guesthouse has no heating to speak of. As the cold entered my bones and stayed there, despite the extra duvet pinched from an empty dorm bed in the room, and the reverse air conditioner battled to remove the freezing chill from the air, my joy seeped away. My hat, scarf, gloves and thermals were only removed for showers. The below-freezing temperatures and incessant rain wouldn’t have been a problem if I could get warm somewhere, but I could see my breath inside the guesthouse.

Time to move on. I tried to book the river cruise to Yangshuo.

“Sorry, the river cruises are all cancelled because of ice on the river.”

Ok, I didn’t want to go down like the Titanic, so was glad they’d cancelled.

“Ok, can I hire a bike then?”

“Well you could, but the roads are all icy and it’d be really dangerous.”

Damn. The two things I’d wanted to do around here – the river cruise and spending days discovering villages by bike in the beautiful countryside – both off-limits.

And my bones got colder.

An unhealthy obsession with online weather forecasts led me to question what on earth I was doing; I can’t do any of the things I want to do, I’m getting grumpy from my cold bones and can’t feel my fingers anymore.

Inspiration hit me like a bolt of lightning. So I booked a flight and am going to do my route backwards.

Yes, tonight I fly to Bangkok, and then I’ll work my way back to South China, getting here again in the spring.

I’m well aware this makes me a complete wimp! You’re all stuck in Scotland with everlasting colds and god-awful weather. I try to do cold, wet and miserable, last a week and then book a flight to Thailand.

Let the abuse begin…

Leaving Hong Kong is an experience in class and organisation. The KCR train takes 35 minutes to get to Shenzhen. Still organised as you pass through HK immigration; pick up your stamp. Onto China immigration; a little more dour – you’ve been here before – what you doing back so soon? The officer narrows his eyes and I smile. Stamp. Grin. Walk.

And it’s oh, so different, within only a few metres. Just in front of me, a man is on a wobbly ladder trying to fix something on an overhead light. As I pass underneath I chuckle to think that back in HK there would’ve been barriers to stop me walking there, in case something fell on my head. All of a sudden I see scores of dark green uniforms; fur-lined greatcoats, caps and epaulettes bearing the red insignia of the People’s Republic of China. People are being ordered around, “stand there, queue there”. And in true Chinese-style, the train ticket office isn’t where you expect it to be.

Delightedly I remember the words for ticket, hard-sleeper, today, please and thank you. Train ticket purchased! Except there’s no hard-sleeper available at such short notice, so I’m having my first ever soft-sleeper journey. Queuing for the ticket, I’m puzzled by the officious, stern-faced guards standing with their backs to the ticket windows, eyes scanning two queues each.

‘Tut, the lengths they’ll go to to give jobs to 1.3 Bn people!’ (rolls eyes)

Then I realise.

‘Hah, they’re enforcing queuing!’ A big grin wreathes my face and a little giggle escapes. How could I forget that the Chinese don’t queue?

Moving from the ticket office to the train station I stumble as I’m jostled by someone skipping the queue. Feels like a welcome back.

With two hours until my train, I find a little cafe. It feels delightful to once again have no idea what’s on the menu, choose my meal from pictures outside the restaurant and be a little surprised when it turns up looking different from the picture. But hey, this is China, all the food’s great!

And the giggling welcomes me back with open arms. As the waitress and I struggle to communicate, both of us sharing my phrase book, two of her colleagues dash out of the restaurant to giggle without restraint. I grin.

And the staring. Ah, how I’ve missed it! I’m sitting where people outside the cafe can see me as they walk in. One man begins his stare-fest from outside. Bending his head to get a better look at this strange westerner he fails to notice the glass door. He goes into the glass like a mexican wave; first his head, his forehead loudly taking the brunt, then his chest and arms, with hands splayed from the momentum, then his torso and legs. I’m initially shocked and concerned for him, nodding to see he’s ok. Seconds later, I’m hiding my face in my dinner, trying to stop my shoulders shaking with laughter. This goes on for about ten minutes; it’s worse than getting a fit of the giggles in church!

After dinner a visit to my first Chinese squat toilet; I’ve seen worse, just a little out-of-practice skite on the wet floor on the way out. And the first hocking and spitting sounds greet me as I pass the gents.

My first soft-sleeper journey is a joy. A new train, the berths are wide, comfortable and covered with a luxurious gold chenille cloth. A young mother and her little girl share the cabin with me, the cute little girl chattering away and proudly demonstrating to me that she’s tall enough to stand on the bottom bunk and reach the top bunk.

Asleep half an hour later, my dreams are warmed by the sheer joy of being back and the little things that have welcomed me.

China, I’ve missed you too!

Returning to Hong Kong had a sense of coming home. I know my way around, have friends here, and this time, I was meeting up with Zillah, my great friend from uni. We don’t catch up that often, but whenever we do, it’s like no time has passed in between.

In true student fashion, we went out on the lash. Where else but Dusk til Dawn? (The cheesy club of ‘6am time warp’ fame.) What a night! Dinner in Soho, lychee martinis on Peel Street, and then DD was calling. Getting home at almost 9am, we had scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and champagne for breakfast, then eventually, went to sleep at the time when everyone else was getting up!

Hong Kong 2

I was joking with Zillah that I’ve now experienced Hong Kong at all ends of the spectrum. I’ve stayed in grotty Chungking Mansions (most of the time), a mid-range hotel, a 4* boutique hotel and now, Zillah has kindly let me share her room in a gorgeous 5* hotel. I’ve been for cheap eats, bought a can of beer from the 7-11 and drunk it with friends on a bench overlooking the harbour, I’ve been to glitzy restaurants and cheesy nightclubs. And I’ve loved every minute. For me, Hong Kong has something really special.

Next stop on the journey is another return…return to China. I’m planning to head back to South China, to visit gorgeous Guangxi and Yunnan provinces, on my way to Laos. It’ll be lovely to be back in China – after my pit stop in the Philippines I’m dying to get back. I’ve missed the food, the high quality, good value hostels and guest houses, the stunning and diverse landscapes, the people and how easy it is to get around. South China should be even easier than some of the other places I’ve been as it’s more heavily touristed. My energy is high again and I’m ready to have some adventures. And, especially for Mairi, I’m going to head to some cold, wet, miserable places.

PS – I see there is a recommended offer for S&N today – hope you’re all ok out there! Thinking of all my friends in the offices and the breweries…

Corrupt politicians, the scourge of sex tourism, slow-paced economic development, stark inequalities with grinding poverty for the masses and immense wealth for the lucky few, Muslim-Christian tensions manifesting in terrorism, killings, kidnappings and a “don’t go there” notice on the UK FCO website for the southern islands. Enough to put you off the Philippines, eh?

Problems aplenty, but the Filipinos don’t seem to mind. The people I spoke to about politics seemed to enjoy poking fun at the government and it’s inadequacies. Some of the poorest people I saw were among the happiest, despite the rusting corrugated iron roof, complete with holes, on their shack. Lack of a functioning social safety net means a lot of people sleep on the streets, and contrasted against the trappings of wealth, designer stores in the mall and shiny new buildings, it made me sad to see it. And angry when I saw the fat, balding, sleazy western men taking advantage and strolling along with a teenage Filipina on their arm.

But somehow, the Filipinos, in general, seem to be quite happy with their lot.

Academics (with too much time on their hands or inattentive funders) have developed a range of surveys to measure who are the ‘happiest people on earth’. The come up with all kinds of crazy measurements (many of which have nothing to do with happiness), but in any case, the Filipinos always score well and are widely recognised as the happiest people on earth.

In my short time and experience here, I believe it.

The Filipinos have a special secret that enables them to keep smiling. No matter what. It’s as if they accept and work with whatever they have in life. One friend said to me, “Why be unhappy because you don’t have something? Why not be happy with what you do have?” Why not indeed?

For Filipinos, family and friends are everything. People are generally surrounded by large extended families. Everyone works with, eats with, lives with, parties with, their family members. You should see the crowds at remote bus stops to see one person on their way back to Manila. Seriously. I counted 20 people at the bus stop for 2 passengers who actually got on the bus.

And they sing. All the time. Regardless of talent, or lack of it, and with plenty of gusto. Once, stopping at a bus rest-stop on the way back from Vigan, I heard this god-awful singing coming from behind the restaurant area. A few families lived by the river, in nipa huts on stilts, and had obviously borrowed or chipped in for a videoke machine (huge – about the size of a ‘puggy’). This woman was chronic – really – worse than me – and was singing at the top of her voice with a huge smile on her face. Her young son was singing with her and everyone was smiling. Who’d have ever thought karaoke could bring so much happiness?

A Filipino friend in Manila told me that singing is good for the health. It makes you feel good, reduces stress, makes you happy.

So, d’you know what? I’m taking a leaf out of the Filipino happiness book. I’m going to sing. At the top of my voice. As often as I can. Even though I’m rubbish. So get used to it.

It took 2 days to get there. As I approached the end of my bone-shaker bus journey, squashed between two Filipinos most of the way (you know the way; you wiggle your shoulders but always seem to be a couple of inches short on space, ending up with your shoulder blades crushed together and no room for your arms), I was cursing under my breath, ‘bloody remote beaches, it better be worth it…’

Tricycle (aka motorcycle-with-sidecar), boat, bus, taxi, another taxi, ferry, bus, another boat, and finally, I was there. Driftwood Village, Sugar Beach. And it is worth it.

A beautiful beach, about half a mile long, with perfect sand, shallow sea, traditional nipa huts made from natural materials, yet with the comforts of a hot shower, fantastic food, cold beer and good company.

Bliss. Exactly what I was looking for after partying in the New Year on Boracay.

Arriving into Sipalay, I granted myself permission to do absolutely nothing. I’ve been rushing around being a tourist, climbing mountains, stomping around cities, and it was time to take it easy. Hong Kong beckons again soon, and then it’s back to more adventuresome travel. So. I. Did. Nothing.

The sheer joy of swinging in a hammock, reading a great book is incredible. Sitting chatting with people over dinner, taking up the table-football challenge, playing cards, writing stories, drinking beer, having a massage, sleeping. It’s so chilled and relaxed here I’ve even enjoyed it when the rain has tipped down all day.

A huge part of it, as always, was the people here. I’d say this was the place where I best experienced Filipino hospitality. Daisy, Dina, Corry, and all the gang are Filipina National Treasures. I was wrapped up in their care and attention, never wanting for anything, and looking on amazed as they sang, smiled and were generally so goddam happy that they taught me a thing or two.

Some really interesting characters came through the resort in the week I was there, bringing plenty of entertainment. It was hard to say goodbye, but after a week on my heavenly remote beach, I was ready to start building up the energy again and get back to some adventures.

Sipalay

…Welcome to the Hotel Boracay!

I originally thought I would stay here until 28th December, then thought ‘What the hell? Stay for New Year’, then caught an ear infection from diving and decided to stay a little longer ’til it cleared up. Still here, and Boracay ain’t such a bad place to hang around.

Boracay will soon be in all the Worldwide holiday brochures, if it isn’t already. Shangri-La are building a 1200-room hotel and apparently a couple of other big hotel chains are moving in to the south of White Beach. That’s progress for you. The people here aren’t too happy about the pace of development, and laments of ‘it was even more beautiful 15 years ago’ are common, but at the same time, the money keeps rolling in, so there’s a limit to the action to slow the pace of change.

And it is really beautiful here.

White-sand beach, great sunsets, beachfront hotels and guesthouses, pubs, clubs, great food, all without straying more than a few metres from the sand. Combine this with the warmth and humour of the Filipino people, their happy faces, constant singing, love of a good party, relaxed nature and their ability to find happiness wherever they are in life, and you have the perfect recipe for a dream beach holiday.

Crikey, I could write the blurb for Thomas Cook!

It’s been a funny old time. I missed my family and friends so much over Christmas; I really wished I could have been with you all, and had to keep reminding myself that I’m really lucky to be here and to be chasing my dream. New Year was easier, but then that has fewer traditions for me, so I was pining for home a little less.

Camilla and Malue were the perfect party-animal chums for Boracay. When you leave the quiet and seclusion of Boat Station 3 and head towards the madness of Boat Station 2, you could be in Mallorca. Well, maybe not quite, but you catch my drift; bars, clubs, food from every corner of the globe. It has been the ideal place to spend Christmas and New Year; a haven of sun, sea, sand and nonsobriety. Well, until I needed the antibiotics for my ear infection and ended up with 10 days off the beer…thankfully 10 days from January 2nd!

Next stop is a remote corner of the Philippines called Sipalay. On the far western tip of Negros, it sounds like the perfect place to relax, do nothing and well, do nothing. Heaven!

Boracay

Wishing you all a Happy New Year and a brilliant 2008!

I saw in the New Year 8 hours ahead of you all, dancing on the beach in Boracay with Camilla and Malue. It was a brilliant New Year – one of the best. The ‘club’ (beach) was jammed, people were partying all over the place. One of my favourite moments was when the three of us were joined by a big group of Filipinos and we all ended up dancing round our discarded flip flops on the beach. It seems I can’t escape the Glaswegian tendency to dance round handbags…

Needless to say, the inevitable 1st January hangover is not so much fun…

I had planned to send Happy New Year text messages, but got my phone wet when I was dancing in the sea. It’s drying out in the room, but I think I can say a sad farewell to it, and need to buy a new one. Oh well, one mobile phone eaten by the travel fairies!

Wishing you all the very best for an amazing 2008 – hope it brings you all the happiness you dream of.

Lots of love
Jacsxxx