Man, is it beautiful!! I cannot even explain how pretty this beach is, or how nice and pleasantly warm it is. I mean, I HATE warm weather. I also am not a huge fan of the beach. But, being here is really nice. I feel like I am wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day. Pleasant, indeed.
Our travel to Boracay was a little rough. We almost missed our flight because of the SUPER LONG LINE AT CHECK-IN! After waiting in a line for about 20 minutes, we realized it was the wrong line. Then, we waited in another line for about 10 minutes, before realizing that it wasn't a line at all, but a large group of people standing in the WAY of the line. Then, we waited in the correct line for about 10 minutes, which did not move at all. Finally, our problems are solved! We saw a little computer terminal for internet bookings. Hooray! We did not have to wait in line after all!
The wait for the terminal was short, only about 10 minutes. I logged in, went through the complete check-in process, only to find out two things: 1st, if we checked in we would still have to wait in line to turn in our bags, and, 2nd, sigh ... We could not check in with this type of airplane. !$!!@$#!$
OK, no problem, we get back in line. I saw that the other side of the MASSIVE group of people was shorter, because people were not traveling over there. So, we rush over, and get in line behind a Dutch family. Only about 4 groups ahead of us. Score!
As we are waiting, an attendant opens up a new line right next to us. You can see the envy of the 400+ people waiting as we and the Dutch family slid over into the new line ... which wasn't a line at all. In fact, the employees were only making a shortcut for themselves, and did not close the gates after them. But, we (the Dutch family and us) did not know this for about 10 minutes.
Ok, so what are we up to now: 60 minutes, and nothing accomplished!
We (the Dutch family and us) get back into our old line, and wait. After about 30 minutes (and watching someone walk through a puddle of pee in line, probably left by a youngster because the parent did not want to leave the line. Considering the length of the line, the youngster was probably born there.), we made it almost to the front, when we heard an attendant calling last call for check-in of our plane! They had just opened up a dedicated line for our flight moments before, 10 lines to our left. The funny thing was, we did not have to wait in the line, but we went all the way to the front. We could have sat off to the side and waited for our last call. Oh, well, you learn.
Ok, fast forward past the uneventful, quick, and stunningly beautiful flight over the Philippine islands to an airport right across a channel from our island, called Caticlan/Boracay Airport. We have booked a transfer service which will pick us up at the airport, take us to a jetty, take us across the channel, and carry our bags to the hotel, which is about a 10 minute walk. The trip was mostly uneventful, except for the porter hefting my bags onto the roof (which I did not have a choice) and then demanding a tip. I did not have any small bills to give, so I gave a 100PHP note, which is much too much. Oh, well, no biggy.
The beach is beautiful, but I already said that. We take a truck with seats in the back into the are near Station 3. White Beach (Look here for more about Boracay) is broken up into three different zones. Station 1 is very quiet, and filled with high end hotels. Station 2 is mid-range to cheap hotels, and is the part-till-4am zone. Station 3 is the older, more basic, cheap and simple hotels, and it the most quiet of them all. We LOVED Station 3, and hated Station 2. Well, the truck drops us off as close as it can get, which is about a 5 minute walk to the beachfront (a sandy footpath), a 5 minute walk along the path, and then a 2 minute walk down a quiet alleyway. We crash, and then take pictures of the first sunset, and have a nice dinner.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
2 Hours and 2 Blocks
"Are you sure you will be alright going home by yourself?"
"Yes, I will be just fine," I reassured Jane. I rambled off the bus numbers that I could take to get home to ease her worry over me taking a bus for a few blocks down Changjiang Lu towards my apartment. Jane had additional errands to run, and I didn't want to tag along like a little, lost puppy. I had taken the bus before on my own, and this would be no problem. I was independent, I was capable!
We waved goodbye to each other and I strode confidently towards the bus stop. I briefly thought for a moment that I could take a cab, or I could walk home, but then dismissed these ideas in favor of the bus, which would only cost 1 yuan, and take a fraction of the time. After waiting a couple of minutes, a pleasantly uncrowded bus numbered 207 pulled up to the stop. For a moment, my memory of the acceptable bus route numbers was clouded. 21, 208...was 207 one of them? I briefly thought. However, the spaciousness of this bus over others that had rumbled by (buses are crowded more often than not) was persuasive. I climbed on to the bus, and took a standing position rather than plopping down into one of the empty seats because I would be traveling for less than 10 minutes. Better save those seats for those who need them.
The bus traveled two blocks down Changjiang, and then moved into the left turn lane. As it turned left onto a side street, I suddenly remembered that I had taken this bus before! Last time, my friends and I had jumped off as soon as we could after the left turn was taken, and we had walked home the rest of the way, laughing at ourselves. However, this time I was not alarmed. The bus that Jane and I had taken to go to the tailor shop started along Changjiang, then veered off down another parallel street, and shortly thereafter looped back to Changjiang. I looked back at the memory of my friends and I jumping ship...err...bus...and chuckled. Why, this bus route probably just does the same thing! I mused. And we didn't stay on the bus long enough to find out! With this thought in mind--along with the determination to become a capable traveler of the Yantai bus system--I stayed on the 207 bus, waiting for it to loop back to the main road.
But the bus was taking the wrong turns. Left turn, then forward, left turn, and forward even farther from Changjiang Lu. Okay, I thought. No need to worry. This bus probably just takes a bigger loop than the others. It should begin to curve back any moment now. I sent Zach a text message explaining that I had taken the wrong bus, and was taking the "scenic route" home. No need to worry...just was going to be later than I had predicted. I took a seat. However, the bus continued to take the "wrong turns." I found myself attempting telekinetic control of the bus at every intersection, trying to persuade it to go right. The bus was now well out of the wealthier part of town, and began passing by older, shambly homes, and dusty, high-rise apartment construction sites. Worry began rising in my chest. Yet disbelief that the bus route could extend for much further and that it would loop back very soon continued its presence in my mind.
Eventually, an adventurous spirit welled up. Well, be as it may, this is an opportunity to see the parts of Yantai that I would never have gone to see on my own! I courageously convinced my worry away. The bus passed by enormous factories--huge, impersonal rectangular prisms of industry. The bus rode past even more high-rise apartment buildings under construction, all clothed in the characteristic scaffolding of bamboo poles and green mesh. The bus ran by an entrance to one of Changyu Winery's facilities...was it a vineyard? Was it a production plant? The bus continued on its journey, and rolled up a grassy hill. As it crested the hill, I looked down at a very unfamiliar sight. Instead of the high-rise buildings, factories, construction sites, and endless pavement that had become a reality of my daily life, I saw a sprawling village of red brick, gray cement block, dust, and poverty. A few people waited alongside the road for the bus, the bus stops identified by single, rusty signs leaning off to the side like tired, old men.
I must say that by this time, the (naive?), adventurous spirit had drained from within me and was expelled along with the exhaust fumes of this bus that continued to rumble into the middle of nowhere for me, yet somewhere for those who lived and worked out here. I also must say that by the time I realized that I should get off the bus and take a taxi back to my district of Yantai, there were no more taxis in sight. By the time I realized I should get off the bus, cross the road, and wait for the 207 headed back into town, I decided that it would be safer for me to stay on the bus. Not that people of the villages the bus drove past looked "rough," but I am unmistakably western-looking, was wearing my very conspicuous, puffy, white jacket, and would have to wait beside one of those "bus stops" for who-knows how long. I decided that I would rather not take the chance.
I was filled with worry, but tried to not appear so. I had been texting Zach, updating him on my situation, and trying to reassure him that I was okay...just had a long bus ride home. My last bit of naive hope was drained when I saw the Raffles ship-building crane, looming in the near distance to my left instead of as a speck across the bay as usual; I was VERY far from my district, Kaifaqu.
After what seemed like an eternity of worry and unfamiliar nowhere-ness, the bus made its last stop. My attempt to appear invisible to the rest of the occupants of the bus must have failed, as the driver turned around and began to ask me some questions. I attempted to tell him with a mixture of my limited Mandarin, Chinglish, and gestures that I didn't know this bus was going so far, and I was headed back to Tianshan Lu in the Kaifaqu district. The driver continued to ask questions, so I called Jane (who was worried about me, and had been calling me periodically to make sure I was safe) to translate. She told me that he said the best he could do was to take me back to Changjiang Lu, and I could take a taxi. As the bus finally turned around and began heading back towards Kaifaqu, I felt an exhausted release of worry. Finally...heading back home. The bus was finally making the turns I wanted it to. As the bus neared my stop, the driver asked around for a piece of paper, and wrote an address down for me to show the taxi driver. Even though I knew how to tell the taxi driver where to go, I was touched by his care for my welfare. I took the paper, thanked him, and paid for my long bus ride. I only needed 3 more yuan for the fare, but only had two 1 yuan bills, a 10 yuan bill, and a couple of 100 yuan bills. I put in the 10 yuan note into the slot, realizing how ironic the situation was; I originally took the bus in order to pay 1 yuan instead of the 8 yuan cab fare!
Utterly exhausted, I stepped off the bus... two hours later and two blocks away from where I had originally gotten on the bus. 2 hours to go 2 blocks.
Every taxi I saw was occupied, so I walked the rest of the way home. This was probably the best thing for me, as I was able to "walk off" the flamatory combination of irritation and fatigue, talk to God about my bad attitude, reflect on this experience, and with God's strength and mercy, release my irritation into the refreshingly chilly night air.
I would end my post here, but I know that you all would like to know that I got home safely, which I did.
I was able to come home to Zach with "high spirits" (as he described them), and this story ends happily with a caring husband's hug, glass of wine, and freshly cooked steak dinner all waiting for me.
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