When you are confined to a bathroom for a prolonged period you get to a do a lot mulling. Without getting too introspective, things could have been worse. I now had a valid excuse not to take part in Jakarta’s biggest festival where one of the talentless One Direction members was headlining. I thought I had it bad being tethered to the toilet, but having to endure that dribble would have seen me looking for the nearest toaster and running a bath. My biggest realisation, I needed to book a trip to one of the 7,000 islands in the Philippines in addition to my time in Manila – staying in the one spot for too long can turn you into curdled milk. A week elsewhere would bring with it endless possibilities – dip my toes into the crystal blue waters at some remote island, maybe meet a group of European backpackers who have a thing for Australian accents or inadvertently become an unwilling participant in a black market organ transaction? Endless possibilities could go one of two ways…
I fondly recall seeing a video about Cebu, a southern island which had a reputation of being a food hub, the kind of place where crispy pork is within arms reach no matter your whereabouts and it rains coconut water. Filipino friends back home always smiled when Cebu was bought up in conversation. This was the catalyst for me to start looking for internal flights and a place to stay. The endless choice of flights made it easier and minutes later it was set in stone – the plan being to catch a flight soon after my flight from Jakarta touches down, a four hour window giving me sufficient time in transit to work my way through the airport infrastructure. The things you can accomplish while on the toilet these days… ain’t technology grand?
My carefully crafted stratagem was threatened from the dawn when Philippine Airlines were ninety minutes late departing Jakarta. Though not ideal I had factored in some redundancy for their incompetence, meaning there was still enough time to complete tasks though it was getting as tight as my shorts. Had committed the process to memory; land in Manila, immigration, collect baggage, clear customs, check-in for Cebu flight, security screening and board flight SJ565. On landing we were told that the connecting flight had changed to not only a different gate but a different terminal. After corralling a taxi to get me to the new location, which was more difficult than it should have been due to a wi-fi signal dropping out when leaving the airport, I was greeted by an endless snake of bodies and bags queued up outside the airport. Apparently this is due to a Filipino requirement of a security check prior to entry into the airport (my previous trip to Manila was all on a single ticket with the same airline so I was able to bypass that rigmarole.) The clock was ticking and it was now that I started thinking about a non-existent Plan B.
Nothing draws the attention of airport security more than being the only one sweating profusely in a group exceeding a hundred. Hypothetically if I had bags of cocaine strapped to my forehead with my hair was on fire I would have received less scrutiny. After security caught a glimpse of the departure time on my ticket and my previous flight number from Jakarta, he gave me a shrug and said “Luck,” in English and then something else to a nearby staff member who escorted to the check in counter to drop off my bag. He must have mistook the salty liquid dripping down my face as tears. The outcome was an expedited visit through check-in and without this leg-up my luggage would not have made it onto the plane. Now for another visit to security…
An upside of rushing around for the previous few hours was there was no need to wait around at the gate. I only had two and a half minutes to fill in prior to boarding commencing. Pacific Cebu must be the only airline that has casual as a dresscode for staff. Jeans and polo as a corporate uniform is the kind of culture I can get behind. Let’s hope their attitude towards air safety isn’t as lax?
* * *
The taxi ride to the hotel was spent gaining intel on the best places to eat around town. A welcome change from the predictable small talk about family and marital status. My driver spoke great English and was full of suggestions but implored me to start with the most popular fast food restaurant in the Philippines, Jollibee. They wouldn’t be hard to find because I counted ten franchises from the front seat on the way to the hotel. A homegrown success story, Jollibee dwarfs McDonalds and other multinational transplants here with a mix of (relatively) cheap food which caters to the local palate, rather than shoehorning some American food down their throats.
The ordering process should be renamed the “ordeal” process. The seemingly infinite combinations of specials, bonuses, meal deals and promotional bundles make it nearly impossible to buy three random things without getting a slew of follow up questions. After requesting a couple of items the staff began reciting from a script with such speed I could only make out the words “Jollie Spaghetti”. For the uninitiated customer as I was, each question felt you needed the help of a pro bono lawyer. Moments later I was presented with a tray filled with the outcome of a real life game of Chinese Whispers.
The Jollie Spaghetti had an overly sweet tomato sauce, unmelted cheese and a few pieces of sausage on some plain pasta. The pasta sauce resembles what you whip up at home in a drunken haze when the only thing left in the pantry is a squeeze bottle of Big Red tomato sauce. The other items I must have represented in my order, or were connected to some value deal – a tuna pie and an ube and cheese pie (ube is a purple sweet potato that is in ubiquitous in these parts.) My requested pineapple juice and pandan sundae made it through the ordering process unscathed. Mid meal, another tray is delivered to the table unannounced with two Jolly Spaghettis and two cola floats? Before you ask, I don’t know what transpired but the outcome was clear – my lifetime limit of Jollibee was reached halfway through the second plate.
* * *
Dinner was at the renowned House of Lechon. A mere mention of it to hotel staff in conversation resulted in rapid nods of approval. Specialising in lechon (suckling pig) it is more than a one trick pony with many other local classics also getting a start on an extensive menu. As the lechon is ordered by weight I showed restraint with the smallest available portion 1/8th kg which comes with their famous crispy skin. This allow me to add a couple of extras – sisnig (a fryup of pork jowl, belly, ears and chicken liver), garlic rice and some scallops in cheese sauce.
The food would have come out earlier if it wasn’t for the staff who are obligated to serenade anybody who is celebrating a birthday. The “hip-hip-hooray” portion, which is a uniquely Australian thing, was replaced with everybody in the building enthusiastically clapping and cheering (except for the guy in the photo looking at the volleyball game on his phone.) I don’t even know this stranger and I am supposed to react like I saw the movie “Parasite” for the first time? If he was conceived a day early, I wouldn’t be so hungry?
After one mouthful of the pork and crispy skin I broke out into spontaneous celebration, people nearby confused on whose birthday it was? The sisnig was warm, spicy, sweet, chewy and full of porky goodness. Has anything that is topped with a runny egg ever tasted bad? My only criticism was the nugatory addition of the small lime, any juice inside was replaced with wall-to-wall seeds. I spent more time trying to locate them in a sea of sizzling pork offal than it took to eat the dish. It also took three weeks for burns on the underside of my forearms to heal after coming off second best against the scorching skillet, a souvenir of my time in Cebu. The scallops were sweet and cheesy but leaned toward the miniature end of the serving size spectrum. Any smaller and they would have had to add a microscope and tweezers to the cutlery.
After getting my pork fix there was little choice but to get dessert and another beer. Much like Jakarta’s gado gado, the beloved dessert halo halo is another favourite of stutterers. As with many Asian desserts it is based around crushed ice with wacky non-related ingredients. Pretend you are preparing to move house and you need to clean out the fridge. Beans, corn, leche flan (crème caramel), sweetened noodles, jellies and ice cream (ube of course) are piled onto each other with no rhyme or reason and topped with cornflakes and stabbed with a tuile. Maybe it was the cooling refreshment of the ice and icecream, but I was glad I had it. Without being a linguistics expert, I’d hazard a guess that halo halo translates to English as “kitchen sink”?
The beer, Red Horse, is aptly named. After two of those and you feel like a Clydesdale has kicked you in the face. For $35AUD including the taxi it was a budget friendly way to raise your cholesterol levels. With no taxis around and wi-fi unavailable I decided the return trip would be by foot. Though only 2km we did finish with a blown shoe and a shirt drenched in sweat that acted as a second skin.
* * *
The mall located across the road from my hotel had a large grocery stall underneath. For such a mundane activity, it is one that always brings a sense of excitement when overseas. It’s fascinating to see the cultural differences reflected on the shelves. This grocery store had everything you could ever ask for including a huge fresh fruit department, seafood section and a selection of every can and boxes that can legally be made for sale. As a counterpoint to this world-class inventory management were cash registers that pre-dated the internet. The result, a half an hour wait to pay for bottled water and a handful of chocolate bars. Two good ideas – there were different lanes for different customers (the elderly, sick, people with kids etc) but a “guy with only chocolate bars and water” was too niche. Also they prided themselves on giving customers the correct change. Whilst a worthy aspiration it just meant that every transaction ended with the daily production of a tin mine in your pocket. Another handful of change in the same pocket would have left me walking around in circles. Though my gait changed over the week, the change came in handy at the bakeries.
Next time… the end of my time at Cebu
* * *
House of Lechon https://www.instagram.com/houseoflechon
One Central Hotel https://onecentralhotel.com/
Jolliebee https://www.jollibee.com.ph/
