For ages I’ve been trying to get Stef on a moped/motor bike as it’s no doubt a great way to explore a place independently. Unfortunately, Stef has no desire whatsoever in entertaining this idea; even though I’ve offered to chauffeur him around personally. Yet, he soon changed his mind when we found ourselves lost on the way to Tongo point from Panagsama in the boiling hot midday heat. Silly-billys. Probably our own fault for being too tight to pay for a trike! Anyway, lucky for us we came across a friend on his bike, making his way to the cock fight by Linda’s place for fiesta. We gladly hoped on the back, me in the middle using Stef’s feet as a rest (he insisted that I wasn’t squishing his toes to death). Since then, we’ve had to take many threesome bike rides in and out of town. I think it’s safe to say that Stef has now conquered his fear of bikes (whether willing or not!). Later I will explain how a bike or a trike is paramount for travel after dark in this area…
Alfon has offered to ferry us about whenever he’s free; very kind of him indeed. Incidentally, on our first day here he takes us on the back of his bike (not to mention his five gallon water bottle that he needs to refill in town) to show us the local market and help us get the right price for stuff…
Moal Boal market is a maze of shady little cubby holes, half starved cats and grubby kids with hands out. Its chaos will ruffle the soundest of minds; as soon as we enter, we’re already sweating. Alfon seems immune to the markets charms and hurries us along like cattle-
“You want eggplant?” he says, waving the thing about.
He gets us half a kilo at a good price.
We soon realize that the small cubbyhole stores dotted about the markets labyrinths aren’t exactly retail as we know it. Pretty much every store will sell everything and anything; there are no rules here, no specializations. And what with every store being only about 5.5 feet tall, it makes for a rather interesting retail experience. If Stef’s feeling particularly flexible, he might venture into Eve’s store (best store for imported produce), standing like a neglected crane in a zoo full of cheesy puffs and tampons. There are basket loads of nuts, crisps and sweets hanging from the already squat ceiling; in an attempt to keep the cockroaches away (which is like keeping a dog from pissing up a lamppost). Incidentally, whilst I was browsing through some packet soups I came across what I can only describe as the biggest, ugliest cockroach I have ever seen in my life- it was the size of a mouse, legs as long as needles, a body like copper- absolutely gross. I almost died.
Right, back to Alfon’s great market expedition with two clueless foreigners. Poor guy. We now have in our possession kilo loads of potatoes, tomatoes, mangos, okra, onions, bananas, squash, you name it. It’s shamefully cheap and we can barely carry the load. Alfon proves invaluable when it comes to pricing this stuff; walking around with him lets everyone know we’re not just tourists and should be offered the local prices.
We take a trike back home, feeling better now we’ll have a stocked fridge.
