ALLY WAS HERE

San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua - “This Is...

whereisally — Sat, 02 Feb 2013 17:17:38 -0500

San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua - “This Is Nicaragua”.

The way I lived in Nica was the way I was meant to live.

The last time I felt this pure, this peaceful… I can’t say. I was me. Truly mindful of my surroundings and the goodness that I felt. I felt like I had been lifted to another level.

San Juan had everything I love about an oceanside backpacker destination. Rickety, bohemian beach hostels, delicious fresh food, friendly locals and a stunning, curvy coastline. But it had a lot more, too.

It was one of the most wild and rustic places I’ve been; a feast for the senses. The endless jungle was unkempt, dripping in exotic foliage and full of life. Howler monkeys pierced the silence with their eerie calls and the wind whipped through the trees at seemingly mach speeds. Low, rolling peaks grazed the clouds on the horizon. From our cliff top house, we could hear the waves surging into the sandy bottom bay. We spent hours just sitting on the deck and admiring the scenery.

But it was the surf that really, really got to me. This is what made SJDS so incredibly hard to leave. We are always able to seek out beauty in our travels. Beautiful destinations are not rare. Perfectly rideable sets of waves that roll into a nearly empty beach… this is a rarity.

Our motivation to surf on this trip was absolutely insatiable. Our whole group of six (some learners, some experienced) got to feel the amazing feeling that is catching a wave. Vaughan and I became particularly obsessed, chasing the feeling on a daily basis, until our skin was raw with board burn and our knees swollen and torn up. I was amazed at how far my body would allow me to go. After each session, I was ringing with the best kind of satisfying pain, along with a permanent smile stretched across my face. It was the surf that had me lifted, had me feeling oh so good and … feeling like myself again.

Everyone should chase this feeling. We all deserve it. Nicaragua has heaps of good vibes on offer and if you like beautiful scenery, endless ocean and real people, you should go.

Nica gave me the forward momentum I needed to get through the rest of the semester. And a light at the end of the tunnel called ‘Bali’ does not hurt either.

***

Tobacco Caye, Belize: Easy Livin’. I admit that I throw...

whereisally — Sun, 19 Aug 2012 20:54:58 -0400

Tobacco Caye, the tiniest island.

Our Place.

Tobacco Caye is for Lovers

Loving Paradise

the Tobacco Caye Bar

Dive Shop

Dive Shop

Doing what I do.

Common Eagle Ray

Tobacco Caye, Belize: Easy Livin’.

I admit that I throw around the word ‘paradise’ quite a bit on this blog. I’ve said before that I’ve found it. The thing is, paradise is a fluid term for me, ever changing as I discover different versions of it around the world. Traveling, for me, is a constant search for paradise, for beauty, for a place that gives you a certain feeling. Currently, Tobacco Caye is my paradise, the place that I allow my mind to wander to, just to feel like I am back there.

This tiny five acre mound of sand is nestled on top of the barrier reef, making it an absolute dream for any ocean lover. I have never felt so close to the sea before, as Tobacco Caye is not only surrounded, but consumed by it. You might only feel closer to the ocean if you were stranded on a lifeboat.

We stayed at Tobacco Caye Paradise, a set of five tiny white cabins on stilts, hovering above the water. From our verandah, we could see bright orange and red cushion sea stars, sting rays floating by and massive frigate birds fishing alongside pelicans. The giant swell from the Caribbean sea was crashing into the reef break just outside our cabin. All you smell is the salty air, all you hear is the surf breaking and you could not escape the views of the crystal clear turquoise water if you tried. Tobacco Caye is just that small. The surrounding reef was teeming with sea life and we were spoiled with the luxury of being able to snorkel right off of our porch. We got up close with massive eagle rays, tons of ‘cudas as well as some elusive scorpionfish and eels.

There is little to do on this island apart from napping on your hammock and snorkeling or scuba diving. You have to truly slow down your body and mind to the pace of the island. This is not as easy as it seems; life in Canada is fast and our minds work accordingly. However, Tobacco Caye is an island that naturally eases you in to a slower pace. There is nowhere you have to be. Nowhere to go but one thatched-roof bar. Nothing to do but hang out with your underwater friends. The only thing to do is let your concerns dissolve and get carried away by the sea breeze so that you can focus on the beauty around you. It’s something we talk about a lot, something people say that they always do, ‘living in the moment’. On Tobacco Caye, I got as close to the true meaning of this cliche as I ever have before.

I could not think of a better place to truly slow down.

***

Ringtail Village, Cayo District, Belize: Breaking a sweat in the...

whereisally — Thu, 09 Aug 2012 20:10:09 -0400

My Spelunker

Our B&B wasn't as creepy as it looks.

Blue Hole National Park

Jungle Bus

Mouth of the Cave

White Tablecloth Cave Dining

Dominating Waterfalls

A Mixture of Fear and Joy

Taking the Plunge

Ringtail Village, Cayo District, Belize: Breaking a sweat in the Belizean interior.

After slowing down to island pace in Caye Caulker, our trip took an intense turn as we headed into the interior for an adventure in the jungle.

We hopped on a water taxi and then a chicken bus (old Blue Bird school buses from the United States) to make our way into the Cayo District of Belize. It felt like we were entering a different country as the smell of sea air disappeared and the landscape slowly filled in with lush green foliage and giant limestone cliffs.

I was full of nervous anticipation that was mounting as we drove further and further from the coast. On the islands, I am in my element. I am me. In the jungle, I feel like I am on edge, constantly being challenged by enlarged insects and rocky landscapes. Furthermore, Vaughan had planned this segment of the trip and booked us in to an adventure tour with a local company who owned a massive plot of jungle. I knew little of this tour and what it entailed, except for that waterfalls and a cave were involved. I guess that would explain why I was feeling jittery.

About two hours inland, we came to our stop on the side of the Hummingbird Highway - Ringtail Village. There on the side of the road was our Bed and Breakfast, situated on Primita’s organic fruit farm. We were greeted by the owners, Manuella and Patrick, who own the B&B/farm property. Their welcome was warm and we felt right at home, despite finding ourselves in our most basic accommodations to date. Patrick directed us to the nearby Blue Hole national park which contains a fresh water swimming hole, reminding us to be back in time for dinner.

We hit the Hummingbird Highway by foot to check out the Blue Hole. This highway isn’t exactly pedestrian friendly. As transport trucks and buses whipped by us, we had to stand in knee-high jungle grass to avoid being squished like the bird-sized dragonflies cast on to the side of the road. Eventually, an expatriate local flagged us down and insisted we hop in to his truck for a ride to our destination. Though it was not a far walk, we were thankful.

Having been beaten down by the oppressive heat on the way there, the fresh water spring was like an oasis when we arrived. It was ice cold; diving in was the most incredible shock to the senses. An instant cleanse from a day of traveling in the Central American heat, we were free of salt and sweat. The spring itself was beautiful. A milky blue colour surrounded by columns of lush old growth jungle. We felt refreshed and ready for what awaited us the next day.

When we returned to Primita’s, we were invited up into the couple’s flat for a delicious home cooked meal by Manuella, the perfect fuel for a jungle adventure. We chatted with the family and soaked up all of Patrick’s stories and knowledge of fruits while sipping on fresh squeezed lime juice from their own trees. It was one of those special experiences while traveling; to be invited into the home of a local and after a little conversation, allow the designation of ‘stranger’ to dissolve. We returned to our bedroom where I had a sleepness night. There was a symphony of sounds coming from the jungle outside all night; insects, monkeys, Patrick’s dogs. And on top of that, I was anticipating the following day.

It turned out that our trek into the jungle was easily the most unique experience of my life.

We arrived at Caves Branch, the jungle lodge that hosted the adventure tours. Our tour guides, Chico and Pablo, introduced themselves and explained the Waterfall Expedition. Before we left, they urged me to change from my keens into heavy hiking boots, since the tour was too rugged for sandals. We headed towards the limestone cliff formations in an old short school bus and then hiked through the thick jungle to the mouth of a sinister looking cave, complete with fruit and insect eating bats sleeping inside. We made our way through the cave, a terrain of anything from boulders to knee deep water to uneven rockiness. It’s no wonder Vaughan calls me baby giraffe, I was knocking my head and twisting my ankles on a regular basis! A true fish out of water.

We came to a stop and it was announced that it was time to climb six waterfalls. We strapped on our lifejackets, strapped in to our climbing harnesses and proceeded to conquer a series of waterfalls, a serious task, as the water was rushing so quickly over the limestone riverbed. It was an exhilarating challenge, dragging yourself vertically while being pounded with gallons of fast-flowing water. As we stomped on to the top of the final waterfall, we realized that the only way downstream was to jump into the water below. We plunged in one by one into the inky black pools below each cascade. The last one was the most daunting. We rappelled down the first half of the falls and then stood on a small step. Water surged over our ankles; all we could see below was a sheer rock face and pitch black water, lit only by our head lamps. Chico leaned in and said, “it’s OK if you don’t want to jump, I’ll push you!” The only thing to do was go for it.

I screamed out in a mixture of joy and slight terror as I leaped in. The entire trip was so invigorating, so challenging, it was just pure fun. I was reminded that it is always a good idea to step outside of your comfort zone.

After another delicious meal and lovely conversation with Patrick and Manuella at Primita’s, I was absolutely wiped. Needless to say, I had no trouble sleeping that night.

***

Caye Caulker, Belize: Go Slow. I have been to a fair few...

whereisally — Sun, 05 Aug 2012 09:46:07 -0400

The Split

Sundowners

Sun Soaked

One of Maurice's Dogs

Wish Willy

Go Slow

The Island Charm

Nurse Shark

Sting Rays like to Cuddle Sometimes

Lazy Manatee

Caye Caulker, Belize: Go Slow.

I have been to a fair few islands. What I love most in an island is simple, rustic beauty; unkempt palm trees, coconuts strewn across the beach, hand-painted signs. Caye Caulker has this in spades.

The water is the prettiest I have ever seen. As we drove up in the water taxi I was in awe of it. Imagine all of the richest, most beautiful shades of blue, marbled across the surface of the ocean as far as you can see. The water is so clear and still that it resembles stained glass. To make it even more of a postcard, a pod of dolphins popped up around our boat to check us out, bobbing their smiley heads out of the water as if to welcome us to their humble abode.

I could see from the shore that this island ticked all of the boxes under ‘Paradise’. A nice breeze was rustling the palm fronds and the sand was white and it was underdeveloped, charming, beautiful. As our time on Caye Caulker progressed, it became more and more beautiful in my eyes. But it wasn’t necessarily because of how this island looks but rather, the people that inhabit it and the vibe that they radiate that makes this place so unique. As soon as we got off of the boat, locals were there to welcome us. ‘Welcome to paradise, mon,’ ‘Welcome to my beautiful home.’ These were not touts to get our attention and sell snorkeling or fishing trips. These were genuine gestures, the soul of the island. As we walked down the sandy strip to our little beach hut at Mara’s Place, a local man said ‘hey guys, just remember to go slow.’ This is the mantra of Caye Caulker. Our strides became smaller and just like that, we snapped into island time, enjoying every little thing around us.

I quickly became taken with the locals of Caye Caulker. There was one in particular, whose backyard we stumbled in to on our first night. We were attracted first by Maurice’s sign for his BBQ and drinks joint (which was really just his house), called Wish Willy’s. He advertised BZ$2 mixed drinks and after we placed an order with him, he disappeared into his kitchen and returned with two rum and cokes with fresh lime. We got to know the guy, showing up to his place to have a few, chat him up and play with his small pack of dogs.

Our days were spent getting to know the place. The island seemed to move as one each night. Everyone gathered for sunsets at the split, a small channel between the two parts of the island, to enjoy some beers in the sunken patio and watch the world turn. The crowd would dissipate to various BBQ restaurants for dinner and then congregate at I&I, a smokey little reggae bar with the best music pumping out of it. When that shut down, the crowd followed the beat, moving their bodies to the island’s ‘nightclub,’ called Oceanside. The expression on everyone’s face that night was one of pure freedom and fun, not a worry in the world, as if Caye Caulker was immune from being penetrated by any problems.

We did spend one amazing day out on the water, on a tour of some snorkeling spots with a local guide named Rene. He took us out to Hol Chan marine reserve, a coral garden, and a place called shark and ray alley. Our guide put in a huge effort to make sure we had a perfect day, even taking us to a manatee hang out at the start and the end of the day so we could get a glimpse of those lazy giants. For ocean enthusiasts, you can’t get a day much better than that one. We saw massive schools of jacks, two giant moray eels, dozens of nurse sharks and stingrays, huge tarpon and hundreds of beautifully colourful reef dwelling fishes. We were in awe.

On our last night I realized how quickly I had become attached to this island. As we sat with Maurice and some of his friends in a circle on the last night, exchanging stories about our respective realities, I knew I wanted to return. Now Vaughan always swears he won’t go to a place twice. That was his second time on Caye Caulker. I doubt it would be hard to convince him to go for a third.

***

Mayan Riviera (bonus post): Mexican cuisine, eating well on the...

whereisally — Sun, 05 Aug 2012 08:20:14 -0400

Tequila, Fresh Lime, Ice.

Taqueria in Playa

Vaughan & Tacos

Best Boat Lunch - Ceviche and Guac

2-4-1, Literally.

Dos Equis

Go Where the Locals Go

Mayan Riviera (bonus post): Mexican cuisine, eating well on the cheap.

I can’t write about my time in Mexico without mentioning how well and for how cheap we ate. We stayed in a resort that did not include food and was ridiculously expensive, not to mention that the food did not look like it was worth the exorbitant prices. In keeping with our mission of seeing Mexico outside the walls of the resort, we made a point to seek out restaurants in Playa del Carmen and our surrounding destinations that were overflowing with locals. We never went wrong.

The thing that really inspired me about Mexican food is the simplicity. Of course, everyone eats and prepares tacos, quesadillas and fajitas at home on a regular basis. But if you choose not to think about these dishes as quick weeknight meals to clear out the fridge and instead as something more, it changes everything. Every taqueria we entered treated Mexican food with a higher regard than we are used to, of course. The ingredients were fresh and so, so flavourful. Each meal came with everything you needed to make it perfect: salsa verde, pico de gallo, guacamole, corn tortillas…. best of all, we ate very cheap and very healthy, though the health aspect may have been offset by a few beers or margaritas.

One night after dinner in Playa, we stumbled upon a Mexican restaurant serving two-for-one margaritas and thought we would stop in for one. I ordered mango and Vaughan ordered strawberry. When the waiter returned with four massive frozen drinks, I could not believe they were all for us! I guess two-for-one was more literal than we thought. Mexicans really know how to treat their guests right.

Mexican night at our place will never be the same, now that we know how it’s done.

***

Mayan Riviera (part II): Diving in & making friends.written...

whereisally — Sat, 04 Aug 2012 23:53:00 -0400

Hey Dude!

Munchin'

Little Beauty

Akumal Bay

Local in Akumal

Cenote

Cenote Snorkel

Whale Shark

Dive Mask Lines :)

Mayan Riviera (part II): Diving in & making friends.
written July 23 2012

My favourite day in Mexico was a day we spent hanging with hawksbill sea turtles in Akumal, a small town with a big sandy bay in between Playa and Tulum.

People pay big bucks to get transported from their resorts on guided tours to get a glimpse of these beautiful creatures. We did it independently.

We got to most of our destinations in Mexico the same way the locals get around, the colectivo. These little buses whip up and down the highway 307 between Tulum and Cancun 24 hours a day, getting you where you need to go for mere dollars. To catch it, you stand on the side of the busy highway and flag them down. Our resort security guards looked at us like we were crazy as we strode through the gates with all of our gear for the day and parked our gringo butts on the side of a state highway. We got the hang of it pretty quick and could not believe how cheap it was. To get to Akumal, we waited for about 2 minutes until a colectivo picked us up and for about CAD$4, we arrived at the bay that we knew was teeming with turtles.

Was it ever. We made our way amongst the sea grass and were lucky enough to observe dozens of these turtles as they munched on their lunch. It is always humbling when a creature from a totally different, watery world allows you to come so close. They were tentative at first, but it is one of the greatest feelings to watch as they decide that you are not a threat and continue to chow down on sea grass. It reminds me to respect the ocean and to always keep in mind that I am a mere visitor, no matter how much I like to think of myself as part fish.

Our time with the turtles was punctuated with beers and fish tacos in a locally renowned beach bar, the Fish Market. We downed the tacos with the freshest guac and pico de gallo I have had to date and took it all in. The rustic establishment had a proper Mexican vibe, complete with lone old men sipping white Tequila and mariachi music filling the whole space. We felt miles away from our ivory tower resort and totally safe and happy, wrapped in a warm Mexican embrace and not even slightly worried for ourselves. Real Mexico, we discovered, is not how it is portrayed in the news. It is friendly.. Beautiful.. Delicious. A really special destination.

We ended our day by getting refreshed in a fresh water cenote, an underground cave spring. They are all over the Riviera and a popular way to escape the oppressive heat of the region. The cenote, called Dos Ojos (two eyes), had a cool and creepy feel to it. The water was bright blue and crystal clear and the sound of dripping was the only thing to kill the silence besides the flutter of bat’s wings. As we peaked under water, we could see only a few small (and friendly) fish and then the pure black abyss where the spring drops off into a cave. Yet another awe inspiring piece of natural Mexico.

Our watery pursuits did not end with turtles and cave swims. It is safe to say that we are truly insatiable when it comes to discovering marine life.

An hour north of Cancun and two hours by boat ride into the open ocean, majestic, docile and hungry whale sharks congregate to feast on plankton that surf in with the warm current. Though we had swam with the whale sharks once before in the Philippines, we could not resist the urge to hop in again and be made to feel tiny and insignificant by the ocean’s largest fish. The magic was not lost on me and the whole experience was even better, thanks to crystal clear water and a sun-soaked day. My incredible fascination with sharks was fully satisfied that day, which was wrapped up by enjoying some shrimp ceviche with ice cold Sols while wading in off of a white-sand island. There are some days in your life that you can just never hope to top.

A day of diving off of beautiful Cozumel rounded out our underwater experience in the Mexican Caribbean. Though we weren’t completely satiated, luckily two weeks in Belize awaited.

***

Mayan Riviera (part I): Time travel, from ancient Mayans to...

whereisally — Sat, 04 Aug 2012 23:40:06 -0400

Ek Balam from Above

Queen Ally

Road Tripping

Steeper than they look, those ruins

Church, Valladolid

Cerveza, Lime, Salt

Tequila Boutique, Valladolid

Mayan Riviera (part I): Time travel, from ancient Mayans to Conquistadors in a day.
written July 23, 2012

After one week in the Mayan Riviera city of Playa Del Carmen, all of my preconceived notions of what Mexico is as a destination have completely dissolved.

We were led there because the flights are cheap and we purchased a ridiculously inexpensive Groupon deal for a five star resort. Though not our usual style, how could we say no to a little luxury? We did not think that we would get so in to Mexico.

We thought it would just be another stamp in our passport, a jumping off point to Belize. A quick trip to a close international neighbour. We thought we would be at risk as travelers. Fish out of water, wandering the streets instead of confined to our resort. Stared at, maybe whispered about. Lost. Harassed. Maybe even scammed (though we did catch a gas attendant snaking our money). The reality is that Mexico taught me to toss any prejudgement about an unexplored country to the wind.

I did not expect to be so taken with the local culture and cuisine or so in awe of the natural beauty of the region. Considering we only used our luxury resort for sleeping, it is safe to say that Mexico caught me off guard and totally sucked me in. We put a backpacker twist on resort style traveling and got the full-on Yucatan experience, starting with Mexico’s first civilizations.

‘Bienvenidos, you guys are the first ones here!’ … That is what we were going for on our day trip to Ek Balam, an ancient Mayan temple site. This place is on the periphery compared to nearby mega cities like Chichen Itza and Tulum (which we also visited). A beautiful and nearly deserted archaeological site was our reward for an early morning and three hour drive in our rental car. The temple and surrounding structures have been carved out of the overgrowth and exposed in all of their glory. Archaeologists were working to excavate intricate carvings in the walls as we looked on. We labouriously climbed the tallest pyramid and looked out over the lush green jungle at the surrounding ancient structures. We felt like the King and Queen.

As the hoards of tourists began to flock, we took off down the highway to Valladolid, a charming 16th century colonial town where a friendly local made us fajitas and served us cold Sol with salt and limes. This is when it really started to get to me. All it took was a little trip through history from ancient to colonial and then modern times. Mexico is so rich in culture, flavour and fun… There is so much on offer for independent travelers like us. So much to do beyond the behemoth resorts and overpriced organized tours. I craved more of the real thing, the authenticity that lies on the outskirts of the tourist infrastructure… and we spent the rest of the week seeking it out.

***

To be continued…

Roatán, Honduras - Into the Blue I have been struggling to write...

whereisally — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 01:30:22 -0500

Me and the Blue

West End Vibes

Hermit Crab

"Life Saver"

Rawr, Lionfish

Warmth

Diving is for Lovers

Roatán, Honduras - Into the Blue

I have been struggling to write this post. Ten days is a relatively short trip in my experience. So much of it was spent below the surface of the water, completing an advanced course in scuba diving that I have found it difficult to come up with an interesting story from my time on Roatán. But I knew that our time underwater was punctuated with some really good land dwelling.

Then it hit me. Three weeks later.

I was practicing yoga, the one hour per day that I reserve for myself to think about absolutely nothing except that moment. I found my thoughts consistently coming back to that little island off the Caribbean coast of Central America. I have not been able to stop thinking about Roatán. It is not the most beautiful place I have been, but my preoccupation comes from the fact that in just ten days, I felt really connected to our little west-end corner of the island. You might say that I fell in love with the personality of the island; it’s hard not to.

It started on New Year’s eve. By this time, I had long forgotten that Continental (temporarily) lost our baggage and I was ready to say goodbye to 2011. It all started at a sprawling beach party in front of a live reggae band. The Salva Vida flowed. Hips swung. Everyone was beaming. As the spectacular midnight fireworks went off, I realized I wasn’t just happy to be ‘elsewhere’ … I was happy to be in Roatán. The four of us made our way down the beach, only to fall further in to the thick of things. Our travels took us to a local’s dive bar on the beach that seemed to literally be shaking along with the bass line and the bodies. In we went, swept up into a never-ending congo line and swallowed up into the rhythm and the dancing, only to be spat out an hour later, gasping for air. This pattern continued all the way down the shoreline. As our attempt to dance in the sand after a few Salvas grew tougher and tougher, we slowly …. very slowly, made our way back to our beach house.

When I woke up in 2012, I was thirsty. Yes, I was in dire need of water…. but I knew my time on the island was limited and wanted to soak up more of what the previous night had offered me. In between the fabulous snorkeling and diving, we spent our days exploring our side of the island. Our place was sandwiched between West Bay; think hundreds of beach chairs and oiled up Europeans, and West End; a rustic, bohemian little town occupied mainly by the locals. We frequently made the walk to West End to take it all in.

The understated charm of West End was endless. Though it’s nothing but one strip of beach road, it was packed with those island vibes that I can’t get enough of; hand-painted wooden signs, lazy smiles, reggae flowing though every. single. establishment. We tapped into the hybrid of Afro-Caribbean-Latin roots by consuming everything from delicious beachside cart tacos to spicysweet jerk chicken. We enjoyed sundowner beers with that beautiful ocean background noise. We walked aimlessly down the beach, greeted by the locals. I could spend so many days reliving that…

One night, the four of us lounged on our rooftop patio, watching the cans of Salva Vida accumulate and gazing at the incredible display of stars. You could hear the ocean, we were that close. I thought about ‘Salva Vida’… the name of the national beer, which means ‘Life Saver’ in Spanish. Of course a beer can’t save your life, neither can traveling, really. But it can do a lot of good; refocus, reconnect, rebuild. I didn’t know how badly I needed to do these things until I was introduced to the island of Roatán.

They say how you ring in the new year is how you’ll spend the next 365 days… and I’ll happily spend it thinking about those nights.

Roatán, you really got to me.

Honkers is Bonkers.Hong Kong, from literally the minute I...

whereisally — Mon, 23 May 2011 01:14:36 -0400

Man Mo Temple

Namaste

Canadian Girls

This is HK.

Tough Elderly Women.

Night Lights

Antique Market

Honkers is Bonkers.

Hong Kong, from literally the minute I entered the air space to the minute I left, was crazy. Flying in was a surreal experience; the clouds were thick and grey and though we knew we were descending, nobody knew how close we were to the ground. Then, the airplane emerged from under the frothy sky and …. there it was. Looking out my window, I got a brief glimpse of the city state and before I knew it, the landing gear was connecting with the tarmac. The fleeting image of infinite cloud-grazing buildings, massive green humps of mountains and a sprawling waterway was enough to heighten my anticipation … what to expect at street level, I didn’t really know. People … neon lights … food stalls … I always have an image of a place like this before I go in to its depths.

This is a city that stole one of my best friend’s hearts and thus stole her away from me, so I had to go confront it to see what was keeping her there. After ten months apart I knew we’d be going all-out and I was expecting the full-on Honkers experience. I got what I hoped for. This girl navigated me through the belly of the beast that is the Hong Kong night life; almost nothing but champagne was consumed, our high heels treaded the cobblestone streets and the only work out I got was from dancing. We did it all, from the Dragon-i patio’s kicked-back relaxation to Volar’s cave-like after hours experience. I think I did alright, for a girl who lives in sleepy Western Australia and likes to have a beer on the beach….

The night-life is representative of the spirit of Hong Kong in a lot of ways. It’s vibrant, fun, in-your-face, intense … it’s out there. I am saying this with all sincerity, Hong Kong is seriously the city that does not sleep. Who has time to rest in a place like this? There is dim-sum to be eaten, markets to troll and deliciously lavish dinners to enjoy. With only four full days, Brit made sure we packed it all in and there was no room for any rough morning excuses, though I did try. Any queasy feelings I had were soon cured when I looked out the window at the city that was awaiting and decided that I could sleep when I got back to Perth.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been so intrigued by a place just based on what I saw daily happening on the streets. East really does meet West here. Explore an endless market in Mong Kok where you can buy a fake Marc Jacobs purse or, if you want the real thing, there is a high-end mall across the street. Indulge in all-you-can-eat dim-sum on a breezy patio and wash it down at a hawker stall with fresh fruit juice for one Australian dollar. But it’s the people that show you how the two worlds really collide here - Aussies speaking Cantonese to their peers in a business meeting, tons of multiracial couples, Cantonese subtitles for Hollywood movies, pizza shops situated next to Chinese restaurants. In Hong Kong, I got the best of both.

Yes, it was crazy. I never stopped. I probably got one full night’s sleep, spread thin over five nights. Hong Kong is full-on and I can see why Brit just can’t get enough of it. Nobody can, it’s totally, shamelessly excessive … her friends kept telling me, you’re not staying long enough, don’t leave on Friday, you’ll miss the weekend! For me, though, I didn’t feel the need to extend. A combination of bright-eyed anticipation, a lot of Uni stress to (literally) shake off and the most kick-ass tour guide I could imagine … I confronted this city with all I had. And I have to say, after getting to know it a little, I’m willing to let it keep my best friend.

Guess I’ll just have to visit again….

Yours from Jetstar flight 3K111,

A

Margaret River - Wine, Waves & a Wicked Van I think Margaret...

whereisally — Tue, 03 May 2011 06:03:00 -0400

That Coastline...

Hay Shed Hill Winery

Through the Grapevine

Duckstein - amazing Hefeweizen

Feeling Small

Table with a View please....

Wicked Van

The View

Swell

Chardonnay at the Jetty

Margaret River - Wine, Waves & a Wicked Van

I think Margaret River is the reason I came to Australia… though I didn’t know that until we road tripped down there and spent five days in the region. I’m not sure if it was the drop from the local vines, watching the five metre swell crash against the giant rocky coastal cliffs or the wildlife that hooked me…. maybe it was everything. What I’m trying to say, is that the south-west corner of this continent embodies everything I expected to get out of my Australian experience, and it had endless amounts of it all.

What’s grown and produced in Margaret River really ended up defining our trip. We took a chilled-out wine tour to sample the vino that comes from the region’s famous grapes and as we learned about each winery’s story and got informed on the wine-making process, I could tell that the local vintner’s passion was infecting me. It was hard to resist… I mean, with wine that delicious! The region is still pretty small-scale in terms of export, so we’re talking about people who simply make wine for the love of it. You could really taste that love, and I definitely brought some of it home, bottled.

Not neglecting our love for beer, our camper van took us to visit the local brewers, where we felt a little more in our element. Most interesting was the Bush Shack Brewery, makers of some quirky brews, such as Strawberry Blonde, Chilli Ale and Chocolate Beer. Our tastebuds were reeling. Margaret River tastes good.

Our trusty tin-can of a Wicked Van helped us peruse the coastal road from our campground base to indulge in everything else that the region had to offer, from blissfully silent caves to soft white beaches. But the most unforgettable for me was, simply, the scenery. The best things in life really aren’t things…

We parked our van almost anywhere to enjoy them. Cooking lunch on a beach and watching the waves pound the coast… Perching ourselves on a cliffside rock with a sundowner to listen to the ocean and watch the day wrap up. The south-west coastline is a sight for sore eyes, and it really doesn’t get much more beautiful than this. Even driving offered up some gorgeous sights; sprawling countryside paralleled by infinite coastline… One hundred vineyards, thousands of vine blocks… Kangaroos bounding away through the fields. So stunning, I could go on forever. It went on forever.

The entire trip came full circle on the last night, spent enjoying a couple of bottles of cleanskin Chardonnay from a local winery. These grapes didn’t turn out as perfect as they should, so it’s sold without a label for cheap at the cellar door. The sun disappeared over Busselton Jetty (the longest in the southern hemisphere at 2km) and soon the wine did too. We drank it out of plastic mugs for extra classiness and moved indoors to the van for a relaxing night of hearty camp-made pasta, cards, and more Chard. MMMMmmmmmm.

Yours loving the Margaret River aftertaste,

Home Is… Since leaving my home in Canada on July 14, I...

whereisally — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 10:13:00 -0400

Our Beach

Sculptures by the Sea Exhibit

Surf Life Saving

A Local

Little Fisherman

Dinner

Home Is…

Since leaving my home in Canada on July 14, I have been in a constant state between home and away… a journey where I’ve lost myself and found myself, barely staying in one place. Since leaving my certainties and predispositions back home that term has grown pretty loose. What is a home? Is it a place? A feeling? In between the grime of a South East Asian hostel and my parent’s place back in Ontario, I’ve adopted many places that I’ve called home - a place of refuge, a place with a bed, with a pool, with wifi, with a bucket shower….. some have ticked all the boxes, and some have ticked one or two.

These places I’ve called home are a home, but not just because of what’s in them. It’s what I do in them. These spaces serve a massive moral purpose for the traveling I’ve done. They’re where I lay down my head after a long day, kept up by the buzzing in my head, going over and over and over…. everything I’ve seen. Things that have flipped my world upside down and changed me. A place where we crack open a local brew and try to make sense of a backwards land we’ve found ourselves in. Sure, some are barely makeshift when it comes to homes, and some are absolute paradise. But they’re a base where I can process things… sleep off a long day in the air… and where I’m safe with my partner in crime.

After 7 weeks on our last trip to South East Asia, where I was more mentally and physically challenged than I have ever been, these places were the key to my sanity. But…. I was craving stability. A more conventional home. We re-entered Australia and it felt good to be back… back in a place that wasn’t making me question everything, so often. A paradise in the first world, a place that is just easy. My mind and body wanted it. And after one more week in transition mode, we got what we were after, our little slice of the Australian dream.

It wasn’t that simple, though… you can’t expect it to be. We had to work to find our next home on the other side, of the other side of the world. A week in the hottest possible hostel, in the midst of the hottest ever Perth summer, we perused the suburbs for that place. And we found it in Cottesloe… Perth’s pristine town by a sprawling, curvy blonde beach and the seemingly endless Indian Ocean. The place we live… it’s really got that homey feeling - it’s a breezy, bright refuge from the relentless WA sun. We walk to the beach, to the grocery shops… I walk to work at the pub where I pour beers for the locals who know my name… we live here. We cook. We clean. Study. Work. It’s home. And of course I still reflect on where I’ve been when I’m up at night.

Home used to just be one place for me, but that has changed. Traveling has made me more adaptive. Anywhere can be home if it has at least a little comfort. It’s here or there, beautiful or grungy. Home is where I escape and reflect, where I hang out and kill time…. and it’s wherever I’m with you.

Yours from home on Australia’s Sunset Coast,

Photos of Cottesloe above - and some of a really cool art exhibition called Sculptures by the Sea. (You can take that literally) Enjoy!

The Philippines - Worth it? I’m a rookie traveler, however...

whereisally — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 04:29:46 -0500

Pinatubo Crater

Fridays in Boracay

We gave them Canada pins!

Guimaras Island

Sugar Beach

Casaroro Falls

Diving Bliss..or nitrogen narcosis.

The Philippines - Worth it?

I’m a rookie traveler, however even though I’ve only been doing this for 8 months, I’ve mostly felt in my element. I’ve been fantasizing about seeing the world for my entire life, captivated by marine life and long stretches of beach that I’ve seen on TV. What I’m doing over here… It feels right. I’ve always looked at traveling as a pursuit of beautiful sights, though the Philippines has opened my eyes beyond that superficial notion. I have learned some lessons… Even grown a thicker skin.

Yes, this is a stunning nation of 7100 islands that has a lot to offer independent travelers like us. But it has come at a price that we paid through more than a little frustration and irritation, as well as momentary losses of sanity and maybe even temper. We’ve experienced culture shock and seen and dealt with how life works in this part of the world.

Every time we reach a new beach, have a new exciting scuba encounter or take in a gorgeous sunset… We know it’s worth it. We laugh about the insane bus ride or the shady port authorities. We say it’ll be a good story later. But then we go through it again and again and again. Now that the trip is behind us, I can fully reflect in retrospect on what happened in-between swinging on hammocks and backrolling off of dive boats. And here it is…

Bus rides back home are pleasant. The greyhounds are rarely crowded, they run silently, they drive on smooth roads, they have comfy seats. The worst thing that can happen is that someone sits beside you once all the window seats fill up. I am telling you now that you take every aspect of this easy ride for granted.

Let me tell you how buses work in the Philippines. You step onto a sweltering hot bus, crowded, without aircon. You know that your destination is only 100 km away, but frequent stops, old buses and winding roads make this a four hour ride. You brace yourself and grasp your sanity as you bump along relentlessly due to lack of shocks and brakes, unable to read and barely resisting getting sick out the window. The bus takes breaks at a few towns, where 15 vendors rush the bus windows selling strange snacks like the national delicacy called balot - raw chicken eggs containing a half-developed fetus. As the bus fills up, you get squished further in, knees scraping against the seat in front, strangers touching you and, somehow, once you think the bus is full, more pile on and now someone is essentially sitting on your lap. Your personal space is non-existent and your headspace is filled with the sounds of mp3 player karaoke and the rooster that someone brought ON TO THE BUS. The best you can do is think happy thoughts. In an archipelago nation, buses and boats across the relatively small islands and straits are just the way you get around. And they are always completely rattling. A necessary evil, nonetheless. Traveling was never easy, not once, no matter which mode we used.

Speaking of those roosters that frequently boarded our buses… Seeing how people relate to and treat animals is a stark contrast to how we think and act in our world. As somebody who believes we need to take only what we need from the natural world and treat animals with enormous respect, witnessing how that works here is sometimes appalling. Even though I can’t stand roosters that wake me up at 5:00am, I don’t want to see them placed in plastic bags for boat transport and as a result of wavy waters, drowning on the way, or shot with steroids and tied by the foot in sprawling cock farms and especially, facing off against one another with razors attached to their foot in a cock fight that runs to the death. Stray dogs and cats roam the streets, starving, diseased and mangy. They are scared when you bend over to feed or pat them. They whimper from hunger. A stray dog is just completely foreign to us. Our best friends are treated like dirt, being sold from tiny cages as puppies on the street and living lives of neglect. It’s hard to look at them half of the time. We saw precious marine ecosystems rampant with garbage, destroyed from overexposure and stressed out from careless divemasters who poke, prod and provoke the creatures. It got to me on a pretty deep level. However, many times we saw relieving exceptions… Many dogs with collars and shiny fur, cats that lovingly licked your nose and protected underwater areas with an overwhelming amount of dive industry staff committed to preserving them. Will that mentality ever reach the whole of a third world country? It’s frustrating for me to think that it probably won’t.

These two points just scrape the surface of the backwards mentality that we experienced in southeast Asia, and in our minds, the Philippines had it the worst. I could go on about locals trying to rip us off and all-night karaoke sessions in hotel lobbies, but I don’t want to be too harsh, especially because I have a lot of love for the Philippines and Filipino people in general. But before you rule out stepping foot in this country, hear me out…

There is a flip side of the coin. The Philippines is not only beautiful, it has incredible unique experiences on offer for any independent traveler, friendly locals, and on top of that… It is cheap.

The landscape is breathtaking. A string of islands, from volcanic to mountainous, lush greenery and white beaches, you can’t look out on the horizon without seeing the neighbouring silhouette of land jutting out from the sea. Watching the sun disappear behind a volcano or rise up from a set of rocky peaks is a sight that doesn’t get old. You can’t buy these things, they can only be sought out. And the Philippines has a seemingly infinite amount of postcard-perfect paradises.

To say the diving was amazing is a bit of an understatement. It’s the type of stuff you watch on Discovery, things that, as a new diver, I thought I would have to wait forever to see. Diving at Sipalay and Apo Island, I was astounded that no coral was bleached or broken. It was absolutely pristine. Life was thriving. The underwater scene in the Phils set the bar for my future diving adventures. We saw things in the water that I can’t possibly have dreamed up a year ago. Pygmy seahorse, reef shark, thousands of colourful fish… And whale sharks. Unbelievable.

All these moments that we had made any previous troubles melt away instantly. Swimming in the crater at Mount Pinatubo made us forget about how disgusting Tarlac City had been. Watching the sun go down from the highest point on Guimaras Island, the terrible city that we left from, Iloilo, seemed miles away. Being out on the dive boat at Gato Island in Malapascua, it was like the fiasco with our destructive dive master never happened. Everything we went through, every frustration… Was so worth it.

I recommend this place. The Philippines is definitely in the shadow of neighbouring hot spots like Thailand, but it has a lot going for it that you can’t find elsewhere. If you want to fall asleep in a beachside nipa hut to the sound of the waves, for $20 a night, you can do it there. If you like cheap, cold beer and watching a gorgeous sunset from the shoreline, that will cost you $0.75. You can hang out with the worlds smallest primate, the tarsier, for just $1. Swimming with the whale sharks cost $12 each day. Wading under a beautiful 30m tall waterfall? $0.50. The experiences are thrilling, cheap, unique… I would do it all again in a second. So if you head over here, don’t skip this place. It will blow your mind.

Just make sure you have your wits about you!

Yours missing island life already,

A

PS: Some favourite photos from the Philippines above.

A Taste of Singapore. We booked a flight home to Perth via...

whereisally — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 04:09:05 -0500

Flying Fox

Giant Tortoise

Cottontop Tamarin

Jaguar at Night Safari

Marina

Clarke Quay

China Town during Chinese New Year

A Taste of Singapore.

We booked a flight home to Perth via Singapore, and decided to give ourselves a few days on the island to explore the city. I’ve always wanted to see what Singapore was all about, and we thoroughly took in the sights, smells and tastes during our time there.

Day 1 was dedicated to the zoo and the night safari, both situated in the middle of the city, carved out of the temperate rainforest that Singapore’s green areas are made up of. The zoo is super open-concept and lush… The animals are not behind wire fences but rather low electrical wiring and each exhibit is in a clearing surrounded by old growth trees and tropical greenery. During the day we hit every corner of the zoo, my favourites being the white tigers, flying foxes, lemurs, giant tortoises, a Pygmy hippo and the free-roaming orang utans that can be seen swinging and playing in the trees above. Being my first adult-life zoo experience, I was pretty blown away by how close you could get and how beautiful the surrounding environment looked. I felt like a little kid.

The night safari is unique to Singapore, basically a zoo that is full of nocturnal animals that are usually inactive during the daytime. The tram took us around the trails as the animals observed us from their moonlit enclosures. They were all up and roaming - the menacing striped hyenas, brooding jaguars and leopards, Asian elephants, tiny elusive mousedeer, a regal Malayan tiger and adorable giant flying squirrels. It was so cool, we were both wondering why Singapore has the only night safari. Come on, Toronto…

The next day we attacked the city by foot, roaming around and seeing what there was to offer. Being wary of cities, and extremely partial to beach life, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Was Singapore just another concrete jungle? I couldn’t help thinking, even early on in our arrival, that it was something more. From the stunning marina to the popular nightspot of Clarke Quay and the many markets and cultural towns inbetween, this city was not only incredibly modern and easy on the eyes, it was approachable, friendly and of course, impeccably clean. Nobody stared us down, touted us, or giggled in a foreign language as we passed. Several people in the street or on the train seemed genuinely interested in our origins and what brought us to their city. Maybe I judged too quickly, but it’s safe to say that I really loved Singapore.

It seemed that every facet of Asia was represented in this place. As we people watched, faces from all over the continent walked by us - Persians, Indians, Chinese…. and this definitely reflected in the choices of food on offer. All our meals were ethnic choices, whether we ate butter chicken and garlic naan off of a banana leaf or dumpling soup from the Chinese hawker food court, it was all so delicious. We drank fresh juices from strawberry to kedong dong (still unsure what that is) to dragon fruit and about 5-10 Singapore dollars got us pretty far. You could plan an entire visit to this city based on eating! There are that many choices.

As our last night came to an end and we walked around Clarke Quay, buzzed on Singapore Slings and Japanese beer, I thought to myself that this is a livable city. Maybe a place to come back and teach. Just a thought, for now…

Yours from “home” in a Fremantle hostel,

A

Donsol - Swimming with the butanding. I’ve grown up...

whereisally — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 22:05:00 -0500

Woah.

Dorsal Fin

Tail Fin

Eye & Gills

On the Boat :)

Donsol Loves their Butanding :)

Donsol - Swimming with the butanding.

I’ve grown up absolutely obsessed with the ocean and what lies beneath. Some of my earliest memories are of watching shark week with my dad, fascinated by their incredible instincts, strength and beauty. During a trip to a water park with my family when I was about 10, I skipped out on water slides and wave pools to snorkel with juvenile hammerheads in a tank, day in, day out. I’m sure my mom was worried at this stage… Is she going to grow up and want to swim with bigger and bigger sharks? And the answer was yes.

Since then I have done tons of snorkeling, even swimming with gentle nurse sharks in the Bahamas and spotting a large (aggressive) bull shark on the same trip. I fulfilled a longtime dream in becoming a scuba diver, and have been lucky enough to spy some bamboo sharks and reef sharks. The more I get a glimpse of my favourite animal, the more I want to see the most rare, most beautiful species that the ocean has to offer.

And I just swam with the biggest fish in the world …

… But ironically, one of the most docile creatures in the sea. The plankton-munching, giant-mouthed, 20 metre long whale shark. Don’t worry ma, that humongous smile may be filled with teeth, but they are way too tiny for harm.

These elusive and shy creatures congregate near a tiny old fishing village called Donsol, in the Sorsogon province of the Philippines. Swimming with the butanding (the whale shark’s local name) was the number one purpose of our trip, and we saved it for last so that we could be closer to peak season.

The experience was, possibly, the coolest thing I have ever done. It was an adrenaline rush, but also humbling. I mean… to enter the habitat of this massive shark, swim alongside it, truly appreciating it’s size and feeling your heartbeat quicken as it swims towards you in the murky blue water… You have to experience this yourself to really know what I’m talking about.

You head out in a boat with 5 others, a guide, a spotter and a boatman. The spotter sits on the mast of the boat and as soon as he spots a dark shadow or a dorsal fin, we’re speeding towards the shark and next thing you know, you’re hopping in the water. The guide points below, you look underneath the water. Woah. There it is, in all it’s 12 metre long, white spotted, MASSIVE glory. We swam along with about 7 different whale sharks, having the opportunity to jump in 15 times to get that same feeling, that rush that only the worlds biggest fish can deliver. Unforgettable.

At $15 a day to go out spotting whale sharks, we went three different times. Each time we jumped in and looked down at these beasts, the novelty did not wear off. My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widened and and I was giddy with excitement! We chased this unique feeling all week long and each time, surfaced with the same smiles on our faces. Pure bliss…

This is something you have to do. Find out where whale sharks congregate and have this experience for yourself. It’s unlike anything else in the world.

Now that I’ve seen the worlds biggest, I’ll always be waiting for that chance to hop in the water with the worlds most feared. Shark caging in South Africa with great whites, that’s next on the list of shark encounters…

Sorry mom!

Yours, dreaming of whale sharks,

A

PS: I know the photos are blurry, thanks to the plankton-saturated water, so the whale sharks definitely aren’t done justice. Plus, one doesn’t even fit in the frame so we mostly got part photos. Guess you’ll have to just see them yourself!

When we go snorkeling, one of our favourite creatures to see are...

whereisally — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 02:41:37 -0500

When we go snorkeling, one of our favourite creatures to see are anemone fish… better known as nemos. They are so cute, coming out of their poisonous anemone fortresses to defend their honour and their coral home as you approach them. Here’s a video clip of some clown anemones from Malapascua so you can see what I mean…

Malapascua Island - The many sides of the underwater scene....

whereisally — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 02:07:55 -0500

Malapascua

Island Kiddos

Postcard

Making Friends

Nemo

Sunrise At Monad

Surface Interval

Malapascua Island - The many sides of the underwater scene.

Heading to Malapascua, our next destination, was not planned. Initially, we skimmed it in the Lonely Planet and both agreed it was too far out of the way. However, I always wished we were heading there because of the spectacular macro dive sites that enjoy frequent visits from manta rays and the elusive thresher shark, a beautiful fish that is unmistakable because of it’s elongated tail fin that stretches as long as the shark’s body. Nevertheless, weather and a change of heart led us to this island, and my hopes were up to catch a glimpse of a thresher at the world’s only site at which they regularly congregate.

Malapascua is a pretty island, super low-key with empty white beaches and cool places to enjoy a sundowner and hang out. We definitely did that, a lot. However the diving scene is huge and that was the main reason we took a 5 hour bus ride all the way up… We got underwater, that’s for sure. But there was good, bad… And ugly. Very ugly.

How about I start with the ugly? We started out diving with the dive shop on site at our resort, and they were absolutely useless. After coaxing them gently to take us out diving, we finally got a little (or a lot) more demanding and got the ball rolling. Bad weather confined us to the island-fringing reefs, but we were alright with it. After delays, gear-fitting blunders and plenty of miscommunication, they took us out on their glorified canoe and as I backrolled in to the water, I hoped that the frustrations would slowly melt away. No dice.

This dive shop’s uselessness turned to complete destructiveness when we got down to the reef. They broke every rule in the book of scuba diving, adding stress to an already strained environment and angering us to the point of reporting their actions to PADI, the worldwide scuba diving agency. The guide poked and prodded the sealife - touching a feeding lionfish with his metal rod, scaring off a relaxing scorpionfish with the same tool and even picking up a nudibranch to try and get us to hold it. He left a path of destruction in his wake, slicing off the tops of hard corals with his fins as he obliviously swam on. Though the dives were just OK and we saw some cool things, we were both outraged and after 2 dives, couldn’t support them anymore. We went elsewhere to spend our money.

We found Evolution. A slick, modern dive shop run by an English and Irishman - switched-on guys who cared about the island, were passionate about diving and genuinely wanted to take us to the sites we wanted to see. We planned a day of dives, starting with Monad Shoal, the platform dive 22m under where divers the world over submerge themselves to wait for a coveted thresher appearance.

Unfortunately, Monad ended up turning out as the “bad.” After meeting at Evolution at 5:00 in the morning, watching the sunrise on the first clear day since our arrival and reaching the site, our hopes dissolved a little. It seems every other dive shop turned out since it was previously off-limits due to a storm. These creatures are shy. I was worried. We descended onto the sunken island, took a knee, and waited with more than 100 other divers, to no avail. No thresher sighting for us… And after the way it was that morning, we decided against trying to see them again. The decision felt wrong, and my regret stung even worse when we ran into fellow divers who informed us that they saw a thresher the next morning. Ouch! I still haven’t shaken that off.

Let’s end on the “good” note, which should actually be referred to as great! Our next two dives with Evolution took us to Gato Island. The diving was so awesome that it nearly made up for the disgust we felt at the first sites and the sadness I felt after missing the threshers. The underwater world at Gato was awe-inspiring. We peeked inside massive caves in the sides of the rocky walls, seeing all sorts of colorful soft corals and tropical fish whose vibrancy was a stark contrast to the volcanic submerged cliff-sides. We swam in-between massive boulders and swam up onto sun-soaked platforms filled with anemones and mushroom corals. We had some wicked sightings… Two baby calamari squid, a few sea snakes, a white-eyed moray. We even spied some tiny shrimp and a squat lobster. But most notably, we found a white-tipped reef shark at 3 metres long a Pygmy seahorse in it’s fan coral home at just 6 millimetres long. Everything felt worth the wait after that, and I surfaced with the biggest smile on my face, looked at Vaughan and just said…. “that was awesome.”

Malapascua was a whirlwind of diving. Each dive makes me more passionate about my newfound watery sport. I saw someone who appalled me and threatened to destroy the world I want to keep discovering. I chased my lifelong fascination with sharks, missing the striking thresher and getting close to a gorgeous white-tip. We saw a seahorse that was smaller than my pinky fingernail. Sure, there were hard parts. But we left happy. And I know that scuba diving will lead me to chase after more and more stunning macrofauna all over the world. Which is why we’re on our way to Donsol to swim with the planet’s biggest fish… The whale shark.

Yours looking for a huge toothless smile,

A

Bohol - Tarsier Spotting It rained, and rained…. and...

whereisally — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 01:50:41 -0500

Wet Fur

Check out those hands!

Bohol - Tarsier Spotting

It rained, and rained…. and rained some more during our short stay on the island of Bohol.

The short break in our rainy day blues came when we rented a motorbike and cruised through the storm to the Tarsier Research and Development Centre, a place that provides a large, outdoor sanctuary for 10 of the world’s smallest primate to promote conservation and breeding. We saw three of these gremlin-like creatures taking refuge from the rain under massive palm leaves, two of them directly at eye-level. The photos say it all. These freaky yoda-inspiring little guys may be the size of my fist, but they have the largest eye-to-body ratio in the animal kingdom.

Definitely worth weathering the storm for.

Yours with a new favourite primate,

Dumaguete & Apo Island - plus, how an hour long boat ride...

whereisally — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 20:14:40 -0500

Apo Island

Dive Boat

Puppy Friend on Apo

Relaxing on the Bow

Twin Lakes

Casaroro Falls

Wow.

Taking it In...

Dumaguete & Apo Island - plus, how an hour long boat ride can turn into a 9 hour Amazing Race

We were sad to leave Sugar Beach. It’s one of those places that I’ll just never forget. However, it was time to use our new found momentum to try out a new place. After hearing that our next home base, Dumaguete, had an excellent pizza place and a nearby world-class diving scene at Apo Island, we had high hopes. We got to Dumaguete, the nicest city we’ve seen, and posted up at the waterfront restaurant called Hayahay with our bus buddy from Vermont for pizza and beers. We planned out our next couple days in the area and it started to shape up nicely.

Our first day was spent diving Apo Island, an erupted volcano that protrudes from the ocean just a 20 minute boat ride from the Negros Oriental coastline. The diving was everything that I expected, and then some. It was almost other-worldly…. I was awe-inspired as we scaled underwater volcanic cliffs teeming with hard corals and exotic fish, explored the coral gardens and massive pillar structures that were growing out of the sandy bottom and found some crazy-looking creatures such as a frog fish, a few scorpionfish, a leaf-fish and some massive snappers. We even hung out with a hawksbill turtle as he chowed down on coral for lunch! Three dives later, we were spent, satisfied and completely water-logged. Our dive boat made the wavy trip back and we sat on the bow, rocking with the ocean and laughing hysterically as we were soaked by the spray. Perfect day.

The next day we woke up, rented a motor bike and planned to hit some cool spots that weren’t far from Dumaguete. The first was Twin Lakes National Park… Off the main track, we drove 13km of winding and sometimes treacherous road through incredibly lush rainforest and stunning mountain views. The drive itself added to the eerie feeling of isolation. We passed lone shacks as friendly locals waved us on and laughed at the goats and pigs that were grazing just on the side of the road. Yeah, we were really out there. We ended up at a gorgeous lake at 1000m of elevation. It was perfectly quiet, save 2 swimmers and a couple fisherman, and it was a pretty cool sight.

However, we saved the best for last on this day. Neither of us really knew what to expect from Casaroro falls. I know I definitely didn’t think I’d be so completely blown away by the beauty of this place. We arrived and paid the 10 peso entrance fee, signed the guestbook and saw that the only visitors of the day were two other Canadians who had came and went. Casaroro was ours to enjoy. We hiked down 335 steps and the sound of roaring water became louder an louder. The concrete path ended and we could hear the falls around the corner. We stepped through the stream, stone by stone, and there it was. A 30m column of water, thundering down into a refreshingly cold pool with nothing but sheer force. We waded in, took in this incredible natural sight and picked up to leave, without seeing a single other soul. Amazing.

Of course, all the beautiful places we visit in the Philippines must be punctuated by unnerving transportation methods. It’s almost like the price we must pay to spend time in such a gorgeous third world country. Our trip from Dumaguete to the neighbouring island of Bohol was no exception. The next day, we went to hop the 1 hour ferry to the land of the tarsiers, however it was cancelled due to bad weather. Oh well, one more night in the city won’t hurt…

Cut to the next morning. We head back down to the jetty to catch our 7:30am ferry. It’s cancelled again. Why are we not surprised? We exhausted everything we wanted to do in Dumaguete, so we decided to go the long way. And here begins the story of how an easy hour long ferry turned into a 9 hour transport-hopping nightmare…

A guy with a van herds us into his vehicle like sheep and says another ferry is leaving to Cebu, another close island, in 20 minutes. Hurry, hurry! Alright. We get to the new jetty and hop on a rickety boat, toss and turn through 10 foot swell (my breakfast didn’t stay down… Thanks for capturing that on film Vaughan), and end up in Cebu. Now we needed to get to Argao to hop another ferry to Bohol. This should be easy! We catch a bus, walk down to the port and are faced with more bad news. This boat is not leaving. Alright, plan… C. One more 2 hour bus ride to Cebu to try our luck. We did it! We run onto the “fast” ferry and I once again lose my lunch as it rocks back and forth the entire way to Bohol. We arrive in the islands capital and our discerning taste for cheap and clean hotels takes us to 6 different spots before settling on the one that I’m writing this from.

What. A. Day. I think we’d be good candidates for Amazing Race with all this practise! I’d need to get some gravol though….

Yours looking for tarsiers,

A

Sugar Beach - Paradise, Perfected. Dream up your idea of...

whereisally — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 07:44:08 -0500

Sunset Watching

Beer in Hand

Sulu Bar

Dive Boat

Ocean Dock

Too Gorgeous

Sunset Swims

Sugar Beach - Paradise, Perfected.

Dream up your idea of paradise. Where are you? What surrounds you? Who surrounds you? How do you spend your days? Everyone has their own personal image of paradise, a vision to escape to during a cold Canadian winter, during a rough exam time or just when there’s anywhere you’d rather be. For some it’s a place to unwind, for others it’s somewhere they can get an adrenaline rush…. For me, paradise has both. And we just left from there.

Sugar Beach, Sipalay in the province of Negros Occidental, Philippines. It ticked all the boxes … The perfect place to kick back, drink cold beer, watch the sun set, dig your toes into the brown sugar sand and listen to the waves from your open air nipa hut as you fall asleep…. We really, really loved this place. Sulu Sunset resort is sure to go down as memorable.

We took a bangka out to the beach (it is really isolated and this is one of two ways to get there) where we were greeted by the German owner and his troop of Filipina workers who handed us welcome drinks and announced that the special of the night - BBQ chicken and rice, was almost ready. After the day we had (see previous post), we felt completely at home there. Our days on the beach were spent pretty simply. We ate all our meals at Sulu as the kitchen pumped out delicious meals from authentic schnitzel and spaetzle to delicious adobo. We wasted away afternoons swinging on a hammock with a good book, going for dips at sunset and playing pool. Evenings consisted of good beers and good conversation. Yeah, we were in paradise.

But being restless as we are, we couldn’t relax for too long and it was time to seek some thrills. We got set up with the local dive shop and planned four underwater safaris around the sugar beach area. The diving here was so phenomenal, I was fully reminded of why I love scuba so much. Being underwater, feeling the rush as i watched my air bubbles float 20m above my head to the surface, surrounded by lush gardens of unspoiled coral and every coloured and shaped fish you could imagine…. It blew my mind. We had never been in water so clear, seen coral so colorful and alive and swam through so many schools of fish. No bleached, broken coral was evident, nor was a depletion of fish populations an issue. Pure diver’s heaven. After hanging out with an overly social cuttlefish, watching a sea turtle swimming away and finding more than just a few nemos, paradise was complete.

It made me wonder how long it takes for tourism and/or lack of protection to take its toll on a reef until it loses it’s beauty. How often will we be lucky enough to experience diving that incredible? It’s safe to say were spoiled now…

I’m writing this on my iPod touch as usual during another bumpy, hot bus ride that is becoming quite custom for us. As we head to our next destination, Dumaguete, we can only hope that Sugar Beach has set the tone for the rest of our trip and that it has finally started going our way. As sad as it was to leave paradise, I know there’s always a new one waiting on the next island.

I think it’s safe to say that I love the Philippines.

Yours back on track,

A

Iloilo to Guimaras: Lessons in Unplanned Travel There’s...

whereisally — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 07:27:37 -0500

Valle Verde Swimming Pool

Sunset & View

Scooterin' pre-Rain

Hilarious Jetty and "Ferries"

Iloilo to Guimaras: Lessons in Unplanned Travel

There’s something so liberating about landing in a brand new country, especially one like the Philippines that has so much to offer, and having no set plans. That’s what we’ve been doing… Totally winging it, letting the trip fall in to place as we go. However, we’ve learned that this method of traveling can also be extremely infuriating, exhausting and even frightening. Our experience on Guimaras island hits all of those points…

From Boracay, we made our way down to southern Panay to a city called Iloilo, which is home to the port that connects to the neighboring provincial island of Guimaras. We grabbed a pretty nice room and had a fun night at a cool, laid-back Mexican restaurant on the river, tucked away from the city noise and dusty roads. A jug of mango margarita and some San Miguels washed down our quesadillas just in time before karaoke started, and we headed back to our $35 “executive suite” for an uninterrupted, rooster-free sleep.

The next day is a good example of why winging it and not pre-booking works great - you have the freedom to go where you want, whenever you want. We spent first part of the morning walking around Iloilo, only to discover that we hated it. Seriously, that Mexican place is the only reason to go there. The city was …. Filthy. Backwards. Almost scary. We found ourselves walking down all the wrong streets, passing through markets and stalls filled with appalling goods (caged puppies to stinky jackfruit) and all the while being grilled by the eyes of the locals. When a sad looking Filipina stopped me on the street to tell me I looked pretty, only to proceed to beg me for money, I knew it was time to split.

We heard of an island just 15 minutes by boat from Iloilo called Guimaras. Our research conjured up images of a rural paradise in the mountains, a place where we would be on the front edge of tourism. We had to check out and get on a boat. We left our hotel just in time and ended up on the next bangka to the neighbouring island. It felt nice to leave behind that upside down, urban dwelling of Iloilo.

This is where exhausting and infuriating come in. We read up on a place called Villa Igang which seemed to be our kind of thing. We took a 45 minute tricycle ride to this secluded resort, only to be… The opposite of blown away. Nope, we can’t stay here. Our tricycle was gone. Oh well, let’s hike it out. 2km later in the blistering heat, backpacks and all, we found a hot and crowded jeepney to take us to our next choice, Valle Verde mountain resort. We bounced and sweated it out until the jeepney stopped at the dirt road to our hopeful haven. Vaughan was so flustered that he hopped out the jeepney window instead of crawling by the other passengers. Another 15 minute hike and we were there at Valle Verde. This place was pretty awesome, and staying there became the defining experience of Guimaras Island for us.

Set up on the highest point of the island, the view is stunning from the Valle Verde lounge area. The sun sets right where you want it to, creating a perfect dinner-time picture as you look out at the ocean from way up there. The adorable owners cooked us delicious dinners of chicken curry and chop suey, and our nights were spent chilling out over some tanduay & cokes and looking for frogs among the lush garden and swimming pool around which the nipa huts were set up. Such a cool place to be, though the rain continued to follow us and even ruined our day of island exploring on a motorbike. Someone please teach me a sun dance, I’m that desperate for some rays!

Our departure from Guimaras is where the frightening aspect of our trip comes in. After two nights at Valle Verde, the plan was to head to Sipalay on the next island of Negros. Getting there looked so easy on paper: 45 minutes by boat, 4 hours by bus and another 15 minute boat ride to our resort on isolated sugar beach. Let me tell you, that’s not how it happened. Here we go, with the play-by-play of that day…

-1.5 hour tricycle ride from Valle Verde to the boat station.
-2 hour wait (weather complications). Just enough time to contemplate the massive waves, rickety jetty and sketchy boat, mass crowd of people with their things (from chickens to motorbikes) and how that equation could possibly equal us making it to the other side).
-1 hour boat ride consisting of me simultaneously holding in my breakfast and white knuckling the edge of the boat, ready to pounce off at any minute as we got battered by the 10-15 foot swell.
-20 minute tricycle ride with two others… On the same tricycle.
-5 hour bus ride.
-15 minute boat ride.

Oh. My. God. That’s not how it’s described in the Lonely Planet.

However…. We made it. And I feel like we’ve really arrived in paradise, for real this time. More on Sugar Beach later…

Yours from a nipa hut hammock,

A