Yes, so as you can tell we really have been watching Patrick Mcgoohan’s face a little too much- really not a sensible choice of entertainment to watch on a remote island village.
Oh well, “They won’t get it” and all that.
Anyway, we’re still lapping up the epic views of El Nido and generally chilling out with our pals Rob and Mary- which means we’ve been involved in some pretty marathon card sessions, most of which have taken place in these rather unique nests above the shore at the not so uniquely named Alternative Café.
Well, feeling like we’ve already done our bit in the name of originality, all there is to do is shuffle and see what’s on the menu.
I gladly order some humous and pitta which, when it comes out is more like cement and pitta.
That aside, we get stuck into some cards, half watching a man down in the sea who hasn’t apparently moved for at least an hour. We guess he’s something of an inert water baby.
Not feeling as lazy as the others, I decide to take a swim back to our new digs, maybe just to quell the curiosity around the inert water baby (we moved to Rico’s- a nice beach front cabin with a balcony for 100 pesos less than the box down the road!).
I instantly regret this decision when I’m confronted by two very hormonal Filipino boys- one even has his Filipino girlfriend hanging onto him like a limp fish. Needless to say, she’s not as affable as her cheery boyfriend. I curse myself for not swimming fast enough away to hear the expected-
“Hey, I wanna swim with you!”
Oh God.
I put on my very formal, very English accent, as if I were talking to a student.
This doesn’t seem to put off my suitor, who seems to be swimming closer and closer- rather annoyingly, like the tide when you’re trying desperately to keep your feet dry.
How awkward.
Nothing seems to wipe the huge Cheshire like smile on this boy’s face.
I ask him a series of mundane questions in the hope that he’ll go away, but all I get is a very gleeful
“Yes, yes.”
As if yes is the answer to everything.
I soon begin suspect if this boy knows any English at all.
Then, like gold, I seem to hit a nerve when I ask him how old he is.
He pauses, looking suspiciously sheepish (or maybe he’s just counting in his head in English).
“Eighteen,” he grins.
Bullshit.
“Aw, you’re a baby!”
Perfect- a sure way to get rid of him.
I look back longingly at the nests and notice that Stef and co are still enjoying a sensible, adult game of cards.
If only my homous hadn’t tasted like cement, if only I’d have felt lazy, if only I wasn’t stuck in the ocean with a strange “yes” boy!
Thankfully “yes” boy notices me looking back at the nests.
He gives me a quizzical look.
Now’s my chance!
“Oh yes, there’s my BOYFRIEND and friends,”
I say pointing vigorously towards them just to make sure he gets it and that I haven’t just conjured up these people.
My goodness, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a boy swim off so fast.
There goes my chance of a Filipino toy boy I guess…
I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to be alone in the water. The whole fiasco was more draining than a few lengths of actual swimming.
Later on we bump into Nippun and Jonathan, our mates from Melaka. We’ve already eaten by the time we see them, but join them for some drinks regardless.
In a nutshell, we all somehow manage to embroil ourselves in a rather petty dispute with the rather passive aggressive (I think German or Bulgarian) owner of a restaurant on the beach called “Euarasia” (or something like that).
Jonathan had politely pointed out to the rather sensitive owner that his happy hour sign implied that pizza, as well as drinks were buy one get one free.
The fat (and I suspect possibly drunk) white haired chef seem to take this little correction as some kind of personal affront and guffawed rather menacingly before turning on his heel in a very obvious huff.
Wow.
We almost felt guilty for having such a good grasp of English grammar. So guilty in fact that Nipun and Jonathan order some food from the despot (or maybe they’re just very hungry), much to my protestations about his rude manner.
Still, I think they feel the whole thing was lost in translation, so Jonathan amiably makes an attempt to clear things up with the hot headed chef.
I don’t think this works either and going by Nipun’s face, I think she’s rather worried just how her Spag Bol is going to come out.
Needless to say, it’s disgusting.
Sadly, the story doesn’t end here, as later Nipun is violently sick and pretty sure it’s the “poisoned” Spag Bol at fault.
Eurasia is definitely off our menus!
Funny enough, we all seem to go through a bit of “sickness” in El Nido, with everyone, including myself getting a bit “dicky.”
Anyway, over the next few days we familiarise ourselves with the quaint little village, sorting out the good from the bad to the downright sickly in terms of eateries.
Unfortunately we end up leaving Rico’s after a gang of Americans decide to have a shindig in the room next door without inviting us (they may as well invited us as we heard the whole thing). We should have learnt our lesson by now that “wooden” hostels don’t make great places to sleep, unless you like the sensation of an earthquake every time someone visits the loo.
We find an even cheaper alternative- brand new place with AC called InnGo- only it’s not on the beach, but seeing as the beach is quite literally a stones through away, we really don’t mind.
The owner is very pleasant and the boys that run the place are very willing to please. It’s a refreshing attitude from the last two places we’ve stayed at, where people seen positively affronted when faced with any polite requests.
They also have the most adorable puppy, aptly named Happy.
Eventually we lose Rob and Mary, only to gain David, who we met in Cebu and his new acquaintance, Dominic.
Rob and Mary debated whether to get the night ferry to Coron (another breathtaking set of islands 8 hours away), but decided against it, what with time and expense, etc. Instead, they decide to go on to Puerto Galera.
It’s Christmas in a few days, and we all feel a little odd, departing company in flip flops, shorts and little else. Not a wooly hat in sight!
In fact, it hardly feels like Christmas at all.
Nipun and Jonathan also leave the island, heading (with some trepidation for their purse strings) to Tokyo, Japan. We make a plan to meet back in Blighty upon our return (to the real world).
