Every time I walk to town, San Juan, about 10 minutes from my cabin on the beach, I pass a host of characters. Off to the side of the mud road, before turning onto the pavement, broken tube lights hang over a dozen pic nic tables. It's Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-ish. The roof is made from corrugated metal and blue tarps. Illegal gambling.
Across the mud road: a dozen or more knee-high A-frames for roosters. Illegal cock fighting.
I pass the gambling, roosters, and men who watch me intently, before turning the corner on to the paved road in front of the church.
And there they are: two giant white slabs inscribed with the ten commandments. See the irony? Non?
Ok, in Philippines now for two and a half weeks; another few weeks to go. Coming from Java Indonesia, where everyone is trying to sell you something, that is not the case here; however, walking through San Juan, my little town in the north, I feel like a celebrity. All eyes watch me because I'm the only white person. But, people smile, and wave. Some even blurt out a big 'hello ma'am!' Everyone calls me ma'am.
I flew into Manila and then gum booted it out of there (chaos and unsafe) on an eight hour bus ride north to San Juan City to find my cabin on the beach. Arriving around 2am, I could only hear the waves crashing on the beach. Beautiful.
Fishing boats outside my cabin.
If I thought Indonesia was humid, this is an entirely new level of stickiness!
Two nights ago I got food poisoning. No pictures will accompany this post!
Around 2am I awoke to that lovely 'gut-wrenching' churning feeling that makes you hop out of bed toute suite; vomiting was soon to...
Four weeks and five volcanos, 'bagged.' Gunung bagging is the term for hiking as many volcanos as possible. And, Indonesia has the most active volcanos in the world. I'm writing a story about them so I can't divulge too many juicy details. But, I will post pictures of the various sunsets and highlights.
Pura Besakih Temple at Agung--the beginning.
The crater rim.