At night, I fall into a kind of religious delusion. First I feel a tingling all over my body, then itching, then burning. I switch on the light. Stigmata on my arms and legs? Wow! The higher power is signalling to me. It says: “Move on!”. In this case, it’s a whole colony of ants that have been ordered to take over my bed by biting me numerous times.
Around one o’clock, I analyse the implications of the sign while smoking – and then demand a new room. What I get is a new bed sheet, two broom wipers across the room and the advice to move to the other bed. Philippine ants are quite localised. Apparently correct. The other bed remains mine until the morning.
I don’t know what to do. Negros? It’s still raining cats and dogs, nothing interests me in the north except Mount Canlaon. I read the Lonely Planet, neighbouring island of Panay. Nothing interests me here either. I check the wind and room availability in Boracay. Wind is there, room gone. Eventually I head for the harbour and take the Weenan Express over to Panay.
Not even two weeks after Typhoon Washi, which is believed to have claimed over 2,000 lives, another severe storm is already hanging over Mindanao. In the strait between Negros and Panay, the waves are three metres high. Shortly after the ferry departs, bags of spit are distributed. Not for nothing. If you’re bored of rollercoasters, you should definitely take a speedferry ride in the Philippines in weather like this. These things can do everything that roller coasters can do. But without the TÜV safety seal. One ferry has allegedly already completed a loop. Half. However, no one was able to report it.
The wind is now chopping at well over 30 knots. The sea spray is lashing high over the windows. Most of the time it looks more like a submarine anyway. Mighty breakers crash onto the hull of the 40 km/h ferry. Heavy vibrations make me tremble. The ship rolls extremely, often the horizon is no longer visible in the large windows above. A great trip, entertainingly interspersed with new signs of high power, this time in the form of the subtitles of an apparently deaf-mute blind Indian to Mr Bean: “Me way I isn’t extremely obvious, think well.”.
Although Iloilo is the second filthy city in a row, I’m glad to be back on land. I check into the central Ung Bun Hotel and walk to the harbour. It’s finally stopped raining. The captain of a bangka says that today, due to the extreme conditions, only 75% of the usual number of passengers will be accepted on each boat to the neighbouring island of Guimaras. A Philippine means of transport with 75% of the official maximum occupancy? This is roughly equivalent to the statement made by an inhabitant of Pompeii in 79 AD who was already half submerged in lava: “It’s getting a bit warm”. In other words: I’m saving Guimaras.
With its 500,000 inhabitants, Iloilo is the largest city in Panay. There are some old houses from the period between 1900 and 1930, lots of beautiful art deco, if you can recognise it under the dirt of 90 years of neglect. Deep in the bowels of a large shoe shop, the power goes out. In the dark, a shop assistant asks me my shoe size. My answer apparently startles him. I never see him again.
The wind continues to pick up. There isn’t a single clean sandy beach within a radius of at least 20 kilometres. Kitesurfing is not an option. Even in Iloilo there are signs everywhere: “Observe cleanliness”. Yes, sometimes they really do try. Nevertheless, this request seems about as bizarre to me as if the Jehovah’s Witnesses were to invite me to go whale-watching in the Sahara.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.