Village In The Ayer

Brunei is one of those tiny countries that you might have heard of, but aren't really sure about: who lives there? what do the people do? how can such a tiny country be viable? The answer to the last question, of course, is oil. Although small, Brunei sits on substantial reserves of both oil and gas. Indeed, one of the reasons why people may have heard of Brunei is that, up until 1997, the Sultan of Brunei was the richest man in the world and a byword for profligate extravagance. Indeed it was the tiny sultanate's abundance of wealth that led to it refusing to join the Malaysian Federation in the 60's so as not to have their riches siphoned off to Kuala Lumpur (the sultan and his family were adept enough at that already).

A panorama photograph of the old stilt-houses of Kampung Ayer.

Octopus's Garden

Most of my travels are of the cultural (cities, museums, ruins, monuments, etc.) or outdoorsy (hiking, mountains, forests and national parks) kind. I don't really do "fun" stuff. Whilst in Sabah I decided to change that state of affairs. The seas of southeast Asia are home to some of the most pristine tropical coral reefs in the world. Snorkelling among them is my favourite thing to do whilst visiting beach destinations. But with snorkelling you are limited by your lungs to just the uppermost corals and only for as long as you can hold your breath. Obviously the glimpses you get of the myriad multi-coloured fish, urchins, invertebrates, polyps, nudibranches and other strangely-named organisms are only enough to pique your interest. To truly see the underwater world you need to go scuba diving.

All kitted up in my wetsuit, air tank and sundry other paraphernalia and about to roll back out of the boat (something I had always wanted to do). Diving is a truly incredible sensation and one I hope, for my wallet's sake, I don't get too addicted to.

Making A Molehill Out Of A Mountain (Of Costs)

As I stood on the deck of my ferry, carrying me from Zamboanga to Sandakan in East Malaysia, in the still night, watching the rippling wake reach behind us through the mirror-smooth Sulu Sea, I found it hard to believe that this is one of the most notorious stretches of water in the world. From Mindanao to Borneo there stretch several island groups -  Basilan, Sulu and Tawi-Tawi - that form the heartland of the current Muslim insurgency in the Philippines. Piracy is not unheard of around here and only two months ago a couple of European tourists were kidnapped on Tawi-Tawi whilst taking wildlife photographs. These are certainly not places to travel to thoughtlessly, although peering at the soundlessly calm expanse around me when I awoke in the middle of the night, with only a small glow on the horizon indicating a mini flotilla of sardine boats, it was hard for me to equate the view in front of me with any sort of danger. And indeed there was none to be had as we arrived in Sandakan without a hitch (except for the 9-hour wait in Zamboanga as the 300 passengers cleared the customs inspection that was manned by only two officers - although there were about a dozen soldiers milling around doing little else than motioning the queue to shuffle along every now and again).

A suburban cul-de-sac in Sandakan that reminded me of middle-class suburban neighbourhoods in the UK.

Risk And The Perception Of Risk

Most visitors to the Philippines do not visit the southern island of Mindanao. But then again neither do Filipinos who live in Luzon and the Visayas. Not because they can't afford it (although it's true that many can't it is possible to get a cheap, budget airline ticket from Luzon to Mindanao for only $20 or less, well within the reach of the burgeoning Philippine middle-class), but because they are afraid to. Mindanao is home to various separatist rebel groups (such as the unfortunately-named MILF) and has seen numerous bombings, abductions and killings of foreigners and locals alike. For most Manileños it's a lawless, anarchic place with danger lurking around every corner, completely forgetting that the vast majority of people who live there are ordinary citizens just trying to get on with their lives (if it was so dangerous they would have probably left long ago themselves). I, however, despite the many warnings and looks of incredulity from other Filipinos, was determined to go there. Partly because I find that there is always a huge disconnect between risk and the perception of risk. Often when I mention that I have been to North Korea the first question people ask is "but isn't it dangerous?" to which I, in all honesty, reply that it is probably the safest country to visit as a tourist, even more so than Japan, South Korea or any European country (with the possible exception of Liechtenstein). The British Foreign and Commonwealth Office would rather err on the side of caution and advises against travel to Mindanao (see map below), but luckily I am travelling on a Czech passport and a brief perusal of their foreign office website I found no similar warning, so that makes it OK to visit then. My other reason for going to Mindanao is far more prosaic: the only scheduled international sea connections from the Philippines leave from the island. One south to Indonesia, the other west to Malaysian Borneo. I had lost in my attempt to enter the country overland, but I was damned if I was going to be beaten twice in succession.

The British FCO travel advisory for the Philippines. As you can see the vast majority of the country is considered safe. Only Mindanao is dangerous, especially the western part where you shouldn't go under any circumstances (only that's where my ferry leaves from).

Little Islands, Little Creatures, Little Hills

The small, teardrop-shaped island of Bohol lies a little off the eastern coast of Cebu. It's one of the main beach and diving destinations in the Visayas. But I wasn't there for the beaches. Instead it was a cute little creature that lured me over. The Philippine tarsier is one of the world's smallest primates and looks like Gizmo's long lost brother. Its big, owl-like eyes and general cuteness make it a favourite of the tourists who flock to come and have their pictures taken with the little fuzzballs. Unfortunately for the shy tarsiers captivity and constant petting stresses them out big time and very few kept for public display live for more than a year. Despite the desire to pet one I knew better and visited the official tarsier sanctuary that works to protect them and satisfied myself with a few zoom shots of a couple of tarsiers dozing in the trees. It's often the way with wildlife tourism that the act of visiting a site and interacting with the animals is detrimental to their well-being. It's usually better to curb the urge to pet and get too close and content yourself with a fleeting glimpse and the knowledge that the animals are there, alive, thriving and living the way that they were meant to.

The nocturnal tarsiers have suffered greatly due to habitat loss and the mistaken belief amongst local tribes that they were evil creatures that ate their crops (they prey solely on insects). Nowadays habitat loss is still a big threat as is the demand for tarsiers as pets or display animals.

Filipino Thoughts

The Philippines is divided into three main regions: the large islands of Luzon and Mindanao in the north and south respectively, and the cluster of islands in between that is known as the Visayas. It was to the Visayas that the first Europeans came. It is here that the Spaniards first converted the locals to Catholicism, here that they founded their first capital at Cebu (although at the time, in true Catholic fashion, they called it Villa del Santísimo Nombre de Jesús, until they realised that they were spending half their time writing the name on official documents). That the Visayas was the epicentre of Spanish colonialism in the Philippines is evident from the local place names: Toledo, Compostela, Sevilla, Santander, Cadiz and Valladolid all named after great medieval Spanish cities. However political and economic power has long since moved to Manila, with the local Manila language of Tagalog being imposed as the national one despite the fact that more people speak Cebuano and Visaya, a fact which still rankles amongst the locals.

The Baroque church of Miag-ao is the best example of the merging of Spanish and local architectural influences. The main relief shows Saint Christopher walking through a landscape of papaya trees and coconuts.

I Get Around

Spending a lot of time getting from place to place is a natural byproduct of travelling the way I do. Not only actually sitting (or standing) in some sort of vehicle, but also researching about how best to get around, where the bus leaves from, what time, whether I need to buy a ticket in advance, and so on. I have therefore become something of an expert on public transportation around the world. Although it isn't something that we often consider when thinking about a country's culture or traditions, mobility is an important aspect of our lives and impacts it more than we might think. Especially in poorer countries where people can't afford their owns means of transportation then it is their lifeline to employment, getting their goods to market, accessing basic public services or shopping for life's necessities. Sitting on a bus can therefore end up being a small study in anthropology rather than a dull commute between point A and point B.

An old-school, overloaded jeepney plying the mountain roads of northern Luzon.

Paradise Flawed

As I mentioned in my last post, in a country made up of tropical islands, Palawan is the place to go for your dose of tropical paradise. More specifically the northern part comprising the karstic Calamianes and Bacuit archipelagos centred around the towns of Coron and El Nido respectively. Here black, jagged, limestone islands, their sharp pinnacles rising through their jungle cladding. The landscape very similar to that of Halong Bay in Vietnam and the Krabi province of Thailand. And, quite justifiably, they attract just as many tourists, both foreign and domestic.

A view of El Nido beach and bay, with the nearby islands of the Bacuit archipelago in the distance. Viewed from atop the karst cliffs overlooking town.

Leaving Luzon

From Luzon (the main island of the Philippine archipelago) I took the boat to Coron, at the northern tip of the Palawan group of islands in the western Philippines. The island group ignores the prevailing directions of the rest of the archipelago (towards the southeast) and juts out at a right angle towards Borneo, like its own, personal sword of Damocles. Palwan is a region apart from the rest of the Philippines, with a small population and little development, and so getting there by boat is not straightforward. My guidebook mentions several companies that do the trip, but unfortunately it was published in 2006. Since then budget airlines have eaten into the market for ferry passengers and as I contacted the ferry companies one by one I discovered that their Coron services had long ago ceased to run. Luckily I found a single company that still plies the route twice a week. I rushed to buy myself a ticket and, with it safely in my pocket, proceeded to find things to do for the next few days as I waited for the departure.

A view from a boat. Whilst lazing on our ferry before it left Manila I had plenty of time to contemplate the city's uninspiring skyline (as well as the nearby slums).

Mountain Of Rubbish

The great advantage in travelling the way I do, with no fixed timetable, deadlines or impositions, is that I can change my itinerary on a whim and respond to new opportunities in a second as they present themselves. And so it happened whilst I was up here in the Cordillera region. During my stay in Sagada I was lucky enough to meet Russell, a Canadian artist who has been living in the area for the past two years. His speciality is transforming ordinary, everyday rubbish into art and usable objects; what is nowadays known as "upcycling". He works with local communities and people, mostly women, in small villages where he has been successful in designing small bags and purses made from discarded wrappers that the women weave in their spare time with a view to selling both abroad and locally to both increase the peoples' income and reduce waste. Thanks to him I drastically changed my plans in a way that allowed me to see and interact with local communities that would not have been possible as a simple tourist passing through.

Close up of the bags made by local women around Sagada using used wrappers. The one on the left is from Sprite labels and the right one from coffee sachets.