Christmas in Calatagan, Batangas

This year for something different, we decided to stay in the Philippines over the Christmas break and treat ourselves to a beach resort holiday. We were keen to avoid having to fly anywhere and searched for a hotel we could reach by car. We chose Calatagan, Batangas - partly because the hotel cottages were right on the water, and partly because Google told me it was only 132 kilometres from Manila. The lady at the car hire agency estimated it was a two hour trip. And thus informed, we were all set for a quick journey.

Of course, we were deluded and should have seen the sky opening up and slamming down its contents hard as we left home as the portentous sign it was. The amount of rainfall far exceeded Typhoon Ruby efforts in Manila last December and as we drove through Tagaytay, grey indistinct clouds obscured the famous view of Taal lake. We believed the rain was causing the delay in our progress, but in actual fact, the inclement conditions were probably not to blame.

From 2002 until 2004 we lived in Batangas city where the Engineer was involved with a port development project (see map bottom right), and while we remembered previous visits to this popular summer resort town, it now looks completely unfamiliar, with its many, many more restaurants and many, many more blocks of apartment buildings lining the mere ribbon of a main road that threads itself between the town and the lake. There are no footpaths and the charm of the previously provincial town is somewhat veiled by it having all the trappings of a crowded urban centre, complete with SM department store and Jollibee fast food restaurants.

As an aside, the murky depths of Taal lake are rather interesting as it was previously connected to the sea when a volcanic eruption in the 18th century blocked its only outlet and submerged several towns in the process. It also is one of the few places in the world where freshwater sea snakes can be found. I remember reading a book lent to me by a friend years ago that detailed the evolution of strange fish with legs, but since I cannot recall the name of the book, see here instead for a whiff of a treasure-hunting adventure in this academic's account of his quest to rediscover the location of the sunken towns.

Fortunately, by the time we arrived at our destination the weather had turned and it remained fine hereinafter. The splendid view of the sun setting over the water from our cottage later in the afternoon helped us to switch over to holiday mode pronto.

We had brought our beloved bicycles with us and on Christmas Day, we ventured forth to explore our surroundings. It really was a remote area and we encountered very few other people along the road as we headed further south. This very official-looking sign below piqued my interest. I love a good lighthouse and we have visited several lovely structures in the past, which were built by the Spanish in the nineteenth century.

 

I was very disappointed when we made it to the gate and found a "Keep Out" sign and barbed wire (see photo to the right). I poked my camera through the holes in the fence to sneak a few photos (I also looked for a larger gap that I could fit through but without success). The red brick, wrought iron, and the climbing pink bougainvilleas are so pretty, and there was bound to be a fabulous view over the ocean on the other side. Plus it seems like this is a working light-house whereas the other three lighthouses we have seen have all been all retirees. But it was not to be...

As Murphy's law would dictate, the trek in had come at some cost. A tree branch with a sharp, spiny thorn had heartlessly pierced my back tire. Usually when I cycle here, I keep a sharp lookout for nails from construction sites and I had never considered that a plant could be so savage. And the muddy track was rather intense which made carrying the bike out a less physically-demanding task. I thought it was only me that was down and out for the count, but the Engineer's bike had also suffered a similar fate.

While sugar cane is sticky enough, it was not going to be enough to rescue us....

But although it looks dire here, we were not that far from help. We walked for about a kilometre asking along the way for a vulcanising shop. As I write, I wonder if my sister-in-law remembers the Engineer explaining this to her when she visited the Philippines :-)

One man was quite helpful saying there was a place further along but was stumped for an answer when we asked him what the colour of the building was. We realised why when we found the small building a little later. It was of the concrete-block description, and neither a building really, nor a colour.

The important thing was that they had equipment to repair tyres for motorbikes. It is quite probable that this was the first time they had repaired bicycle tyres. Most of the traffic on the road we had encountered had been of the motorcycle and car variety. We waited while the younger people (there were about 6 and two babies at least) went and fetched an older man, who seemed to be the only one with the requisite knowledge. It was quite fascinating to see the low-tech repurposed heavy shallow object having something put inside and set alight and then placed over a flattened San Miguel beer can to heat the rubber. The down side of finding a shop with a motorbike speciality was that their attachment to pump air into the tyre was not compatible with our tyres. I took a bumpy tricyle ride back to the hotel to collect our bike pump (usually it is too big to carry with us, and yes, I will be looking for a small portable pump next trip to the land of many gadgets).

About an hour later, we were right as rain. The cost of the tricycle trip to get the pump was more than the charge for the repair for two bikes. We added a little more and wished them all a "Merry Christmas".

Post script: I recounted the puncture repair saga to my dad who knew exactly what I was talking about when I mentioned about beer cans and heavy objects being put on fire. And he even sympathised with me regarding the pump attachment. He told me how when he was young how they always had to carry around a puncture repair kit in their cars with a clamp similar in shape to what I had just described, and how they needed so many different pump attachments all the time because the one they had was never the right one. And then we moved forward in time and he remembered all the punctures he repaired on our bicycles when we were kids in Merredin, and yes dear brother, you were the star performer in this story!