How do you visit a country that consists of over 7,000 islands? The answer is, take a lot of planes and boats. Usually little planes, landing in little airports, often right next to huge, smoking volcanoes. Because it’s worth taking all means of transportation possible to visit an archipelago smack in the middle of the Ring of Fire, a group of islands fought over bloodily during World War II, and one of the world’s most richly biodiverse lands, boasting a range of species that includes tarsiers, lemurs, dugongs, civet cats, whale sharks, orchids and more, and which teeters on the very edge of Asia, before the broad Pacific.


So why do tourists skip the Philippines when planning trips to Southeast Asian countries?


It could be the food, or the bureaucracy. Let’s start with the latter, which almost stymied my attempts at getting there. Rare for the neighbourhood, Indians need visas prior to arrival to visit. And for whatever reason, the visa officer at the Delhi embassy assumed my sole intention in life was to illegally immigrate to their wonderful nation, despite having just voluntarily returned to India after a five-year stint in Europe.


Or maybe it’s the food. It’s incredible how you could take some of the best natural ingredients in the world — fresh fish, spices, incredible fruits — and turn them into an inedible mess. I heard from a friend that it’s because of a Pinoy philosophy of food, which is, “If this thing, let’s call it kaong, is good, and that thing, let’s call it pinipig is also good, kaong + pinipig must be amazing!” (Before the Philippines Embassy responds in a huff, allow me to mention that we ate some amazing food too, and a new generation of Pinoy chefs is showing the world that their food can indeed be amazing.)


We hopped on to a plane to Palawan, an island that juts out of Borneo like it might be a part of it, tectonically speaking. Apparently no one goes to Palawan because it’s full of rainforests and snakes and more volcanoes, which personally, I find awesome. My idea of travel is getting away from all the tourists. The plane landed in Puerto Princesa, the island’s small, lazy capital, on its eastern coast. Fifty kilometres away, on the opposite coast, lay our destination — the town of Sabang.


Near this town (barely a village, really) there’s an incredible natural feature — a cave containing an underground river that winds its way some eight kilometres through it, draining directly into the ocean.


From the beach resort in Sabang — melodically punctuated by the sound of a regular, crashing wave — you can get there by noisy tuk-tuk, boat or a sweaty hour-long jungle hike. Any which way, it’s worth it. The South China Sea is a glorious blue, the island a lush, undisturbed canopy of green, filled with hornbills, parrots and macaques eating, playing and grooming on the beach, and for a while you feel like you’re the only people on this green-and-blue planet, and this is what it means to be alive. You lie back on the boat, under the stretched fabric of the awning, your toes pointed at the horizon, your destination. The boat’s engine takes a deeper note, slows down, and like out of a James Bond movie, that glorious John Barry’s Journey to… cue plays in your head, and the boatman steers into a hidden cove. Protected by rocks jutting into the sea is a small, hidden beach and a tiny trail to the park entrance.


The Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park is a Unesco-designated heritage site, and is classified as one of the ‘new seven wonders of nature’. Tourist-filled canoes slide into the wide maw of the river cave two at a time, and we stare up at wide ceilings, still-dripping stalactites and bizarre natural sculptures of limestone karst, lit dimly by our one spotlight and weak LED lamps. There are side openings and rooms yet to be explored, for the system extends deep into the island — the main, explored cave is twenty-four kilometres long.


The general public’s trip into the cave is limited only to a small initial section, and given the country’s Catholic fervour, every formation has a Biblical reference. The chambers are indeed grand, almost cathedral-like.


After the cave we mucked about on the beach, hopped over hermit crabs and found ourselves a long zipline stretching over the bay, which planted us almost back at our resort. We went to the airport, waited during the inevitable delay (every single flight we took in the Philippines was delayed), went through Manila (because all roads lead to Manila), and then headed to Donsol.

 

Donsol must be visited. It is a wide bay, home to the butanding. That’s what the locals call whale sharks, the world’s largest fish, a vulnerable species of unknown population. It’s a shark, the size of a schoolbus, which eats mostly plankton and, believe it or not, poses no threat to humans! In Donsol, you can swim with the sharks.


Before my editors roll their eyes and you dismiss me as another thrill-seeking lunatic, allow me to reiterate a few things: 1) Whale sharks are not aggressive and do not eat people. Being filter feeders, they barely even manage to eat tiny fish. 2) They swim just a few metres under the ocean surface, and you’re almost certain to see one, or four. 3) We had to fight off non-swimmer Korean mothers floating in the water, pulling along their non-swimming babies, both in life vests and flippers, to look at these amazing giants. So they’re totally tourist-friendly.


You can’t scuba with them, you can only snorkel, and must never touch them despite the temptation to do so. Four to eight people share a boat with a local trained guide, who ensures you follow the rules.


Our first day in the bay was oddly fruitless. We spent hours hunting for a distant dark spot in the sea, but saw nothing. Our guide too shook his head — it was rare to not see something during the season (November to May). We shook hands and said we’d return.


The next morning, we were back. Flip-flops on, snorkelling gear in hand, we took off again into the ocean. As we strained our eyes, out of the blue, our guide, an experienced local wearing black swimming shorts and a grey ‘Butanding Interaction Officer’ T-shirt stood up and pointed. Just then — thar she blew, again, and again, and again. (This is just a figure of speech. Whale sharks don’t blow anything, they’re not whales).


The boat’s engine raced and we sped towards a spot in the open ocean. A palpable excitement was in the air, and we all swung our legs off the boat, sat on the edge, put on our masks, fins and snorkel. The boat almost skidded to a halt, the BIO said “Go!” and we splashed into the sea.


Allow me to make a confession. I’m a terrible swimmer. I learnt to swim when I was sixteen, after a near-drowning experience. But the sea is salty and you float easily, the fins help you move along, and just then, just below your floating body, slides into view a monster. Of course, I mean monster figuratively. It’s a huge being, with glowing white spots and ridges of cartilage and muscle. It swims below you, peacefully, its mouth yawning lazily for plankton. Above, on the water, there’s chaos. Korean mothers and babies have arrived on a dozen other boats, flouting the rules (only three boats can ‘interact’ with one whale shark at a time). Slower, less able swimmers such as I get kicked and pummelled, but if you’re a strong swimmer, you might be able to keep up with the giant fish — barely.


The sea aims to please, and she does, again and again. After the shark leaves us behind, we get back on the boat. And then there’s another one in the distance. Today, we don’t see just one; we have a total of three sightings. My friends, more adept in the water, dive deep and swim alongside, metres underwater. Each individual animal can be identified. This one, he’s got a harpoon scar. This one, she had babies last year.


Donsol has another attraction. As the sun sets and the air cools, after the breathless, whale-shark chasing excitement of the day, you grab a motorcycle taxi and head to the mangroves. Just outside the town the locals have discovered another attraction. Fireflies! At night, all along the mangrove river, gazillions of fireflies settle on individual trees and light them up like it’s Christmas. There are no words to describe it, but I’ll try. We hopped on another rickety boat and slowly paddled our way through the pitch-black night. Some minutes later we are away from any signs of life or light, and suddenly, we noticed bright sparks flying off shadowy trees along the waterway. The boatman pointed and turned the canoe towards one. And we sat back and watched the show. A tree came aglow with green luminescence, covered in thousands of bright, moving dots of light, brighter than stars. It was a moving halo of light, a natural laser show that no human construct could replicate.


We took another plane. Our last and final destination in this Pacific wonderland was the pleasure planet of Boracay. The White Beach, literally, of this tiny island destination, shows up regularly on the covers of travel magazines, usually starring a bikini-clad beauty. We unfortunately showed up smack in the middle of some vacation or the other, and the place was packed with Asian tourists — pretty much the only ones who visit this nation, it seems. Boracay, for the Koreans, is sort of like our Goa. Somehow, we’d shown up on the one weekend of the year where the island was brimming at overcapacity. And even then, we had a section of the beach to ourselves, at Station 1 — the high-rollers’ corner, so to speak.


The beach is clean and white, the sea is wide and waist-shallow, there are places to go to, nightclubs to check out and various things to do, from taking sailboats to other tiny islands and snorkelling sites to lazing on the sand. And if you’re so inclined, just cross the narrow strip of land to the other side of the island to Bulabog Beach, and check out one of Asia’s top kite-boarding destinations. At night, the island turns to party central, with barefoot dancers bursting the seams of beachside clubs. There’s obviously no dress-code here.


Before I end this piece, I need to tell you what we didn’t manage to do, because we ran out of time. Paddling about in one of the world’s most accessible shipwreck diving sites, the graveyards of Japanese ships sunk during World War II, in Coron. Hanging around with those incredibly cute wide-eyed tarsiers in Bohol. Checking out an island inside a volcano inside an island inside a volcano, near Manila, and partying it up in Cebu.


Pinoys, I guess we’ll be back.


The information


Getting there

A recent Delhi-Manila search yielded flights on Thai Airways, Malaysian Airlines, Singapore Airlines, Cathay Pacific and others, starting at Rs 40,000.


Visas
Indian nationals require a visa to enter the Philippines. A single-entry temporary visitor’s visa costs Rs 2,080. For all information on visa application and requirements, log on to newdelhipe.com.

 

Currency
1 Philippine Peso (PHP)=Rs 1.33

 

Getting around
Flying is the most efficient way to get from place to place in the Philippines. Airlines include Cebu Pacific, one of the better ones, as well as Zest Air and Sea Air.

 

Where to stay

Manila Two popular hotels are The Bayleaf (from $80; thebayleaf.com.ph) and the centrally located, five-star Pan Pacific Manila (from $120; panpacific.com).

Sabang (Palawan) We stayed at the Daluyon Beach & Mountain Resort (from PHP 4,400; daluyonresort.com) but you can stay next door at the much larger Sheridan Beach Resort & Spa (from PHP 5,250; sheridanbeachresort.com).

Donsol We stayed at the Elysia Beach Resort (from PHP 3,150; elysia-donsol.com). It’s a small, beachfront place with cottages around a pool. The only other ‘hotel’ option is Giddy’s Place, a PADI dive centre (from PHP 600 per person; giddysplace.com).

Boracay Given the rush, it was a miracle we found any place to stay here at all. In general,

Boracay is divided into stations. Station 1, at the northern end of the island, is the best place to stay. Station 3 is for backpackers, or the bay in the back where the kite surfers are. We barely snagged something at the ‘Balay Apartelle’, the serviced-apartment section of Boracay Terraces (from approx. PHP 6,000; boracayterraces.com). Mr Holiday, which is right on the beach, is rather more affordable if somewhat spartan (from PHP 1,000; mrholidaysboracay.com). Other popular hotels here include Shangri La’s Boracay Resort & Spa (from $520; shangri-la.com) and Dave’s Straw Hat Inn (from $20; davesstrawhatinn.com).


What to see & do

Manila This is one of Asia’s great hulking metropolises. There’s a lot of stuff to see and do here, including visiting the remains of the Walled City (Intramuros), where over 1,00,000 Filipino civilians and 16,000 US and Japanese soldiers were killed during WWII’s Battle of Manila.

Intramuros also contains interesting sites such as the San Agustin church, a Unesco site. Chinatown (next to Intramuros) is also worth a look. Day trips from Manila include Corregidor, a fortified island in Manila Bay.

Palawan The Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park merits a visit for its unusual limestone karst landscape and an underground river that empties directly into the sea. The island province has many marine reserve parks and wildlife sanctuaries worth exploring. Coron Island offers excellent scuba diving and snorkelling.

Donsol The most popular tourist activity here is whale shark viewing. The night firefly tour is another must do. Due to its hilly terrain, Donsol has good biking and trekking routes too.

Boracay If you’re so inclined, you can also check out the world-famous Cocomangas bar (cocomangas.com), on Boracay main street. Successful participants of the ‘Still Standing After 15’ challenge honour their name and country with a plaque on the bar walls.








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