The clownfish save the day

Are we headed to Dumaguete or Doom-agetti? It certainly appeared to be the latter as we sat in our room on Sunday night and contemplated the disaster which seemed to have overtaken us. It had started badly early that morning–very early. Jet Star Asia had moved our departure time to 6:30 am which meant being at the airport by 4:30 am which meant being up by 4 am to check out of the hotel and get a cab to the airport. It didn’t help that Doreen woke during the night, misread her watch and, in a panic, woke me at 2 am. Not a quality night’s sleep.
We knew from their website that Jet Star Asia had limitations on their carry-on baggage but we didn’t know how serious they were about enforcing those limits. As we waited in the check-in line, several people were turned away and began re-arranging their baggage. Now we were worried. Doreen’s carry-on weighed in at just over 10 kg and mine at 8.2 (the limit was 7 kg). But, when we reached the counter, there were no problems. They took our check-in luggage and didn’t even ask about our carry-ons. Great. Until we went to the security check. They had a scale there and were enforcing the 7 kg limit. We were told the bags would have to be checked. With our checked luggage already gone, we couldn’t even re-arrange things. We finally did move some things around and were able to clear my carry-on and my computer bag. Doreen had to check hers. With no lock on the bag, she was not a happy camper.
The flight to Manila was fine, even if no frills. We weren’t too impressed with the Manila terminal but we managed to find the Cebu Pacific shuttle bus which would take us to the domestic departure area for our next flight. Eventually. We had to wait until there was a full load. Either that or the driver wanted to allow enough shopping time for the young lady who batted her eyes and convinced him to stop at the shopping center to retrieve her along the way.
When we arrived at the domestic terminal, it was complete chaos. We were shuffled from counter to counter until finally being allowed to check-in. Hard to tell if the domestic and international terminals share the same air field. It was a longer bus ride than I’d expected and we seemed to go through part of the city. Because our first flight had been moved to an earlier time and our second flight was late, it was a long, boring wait in a crowded, noisy, hot room with uncomfortable seating. The flight to Dumaguete was fine though the landing was a little scary. It seems the runway is so short that the pilot practically has to put his wheels in the ocean to ensure hitting the runway just past the threshold and allowing enough room for roll-out. Somewhat similar to the short runway in St. Bart’s.
The pick-up from El Dorado was waiting, our bags were there and it looked like we were close to arrival. Wrong. The driver informed us that he’d been instructed to wait in town for some resort guests who’d gone on an excursion to another island. They’d been delayed and wouldn’t get back until 6 pm. The resort is only 20 minutes from town so waiting two hours didn’t make much sense but, to the driver, the boss was the boss. By now, the heavens had opened up and it was pouring. The boss changed his orders and we proceeded to the resort. We weren’t too impressed with what we saw through the rain. The sight of walls with glass-imbedded and spiked tops was reminiscent of San Andres and very depressing. Not much incentive to explore.
The room itself was fine–very similar to Octopus Resort in Fiji but without the feeling of hospitality. The Filipino staff are nice enough but nothing stands out–or maybe we’re so tired and hungry that nothing would impress. We’ve been on the go fourteen hours, have had only two snacks in that time, it’s pouring and, again, English is the third language here. We considered whether or not we should cut our losses and head back to Manila in the morning.
The next morning was raining and we waffled on a final decision. The tipping point was that we had no plans for Manila and hadn’t done any preparatory research. So we decided to stay with El Doarado and resign ourselves to a few miserable days before we began the journey home. Maybe Angkor was so fascinating that everything else was going to be anti-climatic. But the sun came out in the afternoon and things began to take on a different outlook.
And then we went snorkeling. The next morning we managed to hook up with a dive group headed to Apo Island, under the expert guidance of Lito who was described on the dive board as “the master of disaster” (I think in reference to a motorcycle accident he’s had last week). The dive group was German so there wasn’t much conversation but the crew were friendly and the trip aboard the catamaran was pleasant and relatively quick. The first spot we stopped was ‘the Chapel’. Off the boat, the water was quite deep but, as we swam toward the shore, things improved noticeably. We drifted down the coastline and the coral was terrific. The fish weren’t anything out of the ordinary, except for a couple of Clark’s anenomefish. We made it back to the boat just before the divers reappeared.
The crew provided fruit and tea/coffee–a nice touch. Before leaving the area, we stopped for an hour so that people could browse the wares the village women had lined up to display. Doreen couldn’t resist a green tee shirt. Then it was off to our second stop–Kan Uran. This was even better. The coral was about as good as I’ve ever seen and the fish were better than earlier. One area in particular drew Doreen’s attention–an area called ‘Clownfish City’. We saw groups of a dozen or more anenomefish and lots of smaller groups–more anenomefish than I’ve ever seen outside an aquarium. Doreen was really frustraated that her camera had died in Singapore. Now, if only they were going back to Apo tomorrow.
Lito suggested we walk down the beach to the Dauin Reserve–about a 20 minute beach walk--where we could snorkel right off the beach. He said the coral was very good. That afternoon we followed his advice and were rewarded with some great snorkeling. The beach isn’t a great beach and the walk wasn’t a great walk but the reserve was a delight. We’d hardly put our faces in the water when we saw two regal angelfish. There were fish everywhere and some very large ones. The coral was terrific. This is what we’d hoped the Similans and Tioman would be like.
We went back the next morning and our second go-round was just as good as the first. Doreen rented a digital camera from the dive shop but the battery wasn’t fully charged and died on her after about eight pictures. They refunded her money when we went back but that didn’t help her get the pictures she wanted. I did get some good shots of the clown anenomefish and some shots of Doreen using her fingers to imitate the anenomes in hopes of luring the fish closer. That didn’t work as well as she hoped but she had fun trying. Then it was back to the resort, rinse off the salt water, finish packing and ride the shuttle to the airport. Things looked better in the sunlight than they’d looked in the rain on our arrival but the area still was depressing and uninviting.
We had a short flight after another long wait in a hot, un-air-conditioned room. Collecting our baggage at Manila’s domestic terminal was a bit chaotic (Manila seems to thrive on chaos). We caught a cab to the hotel and checked in for our last night in Asia. The only place to eat was at the hotel’s pool-side restaurant which turned out to be noisy, splashy and buggy. Besides which, the food wasn’t very good. We had ordered talapia and ended up with the whole fish, head and all. I didn’t know talapia was such a bony fish–the Costco filets are always so nice.
Hopefully, the bed’s comfortable. I need a good night’s sleep as we’ve got a long travel day ahead of us tomorrow. The last five nights at El Dorado haven’t been the most comfortable. The bed was just barely long enough if you lie flat on your back with your head and shoulders on the pillow but, with raised headboard and footboard, there was no room for stretching. I had to sleep on an angle and it resulted in disturbed, uneven rest. (Good thing I’m not as tall as Travis–he’d never fit in this bed.)