We tour Coron Island with the Bangka. Coron is just a huge rock from the outside, but there are hidden entrances to places that are fighting hard to be the understudy for “The Beach”. The first stop is a lake that can be reached via a short climb between the rocks. Asians splash around with life jackets. Visibility in the Mondsee is easily 20 metres.
Uli joins us from her last dive. Lunch on a small beach directly under the rock face. Snorkelling at Twin Peaks Reef, thousands of fish in good visibility in the midday sun. Twin Lagoon, a hidden entrance from the sea, then dive through a tunnel into the second lagoon. Layers of water shimmer on top of each other, the rock faces rise 300 metres vertically. (more…)
A kiteboard Wants The Sea
Dear Kiteboard, I know that times are tough. I’m dragging you to the end of the world. A nice end, but one where you have less to do than anywhere else. Even at Lake Garda, the topography makes kiting less stupid than here. I really didn’t know about the only 4% over 4 Beaufort wind statistics. But I’ll do everything I can to look after you.
I actually wanted to relax. Uli wanted to study for his diving licence. But you whinge in the room like an infant with thin poo. So I rented another bike, a little scooter today. Despite the miserable wind forecast, we rode 70 kilometres on the worst tracks through the jungle to make you laugh. (more…)
Wreck Diving West Of Coron
The Coron archipelago is perfect for playing hide and seek. Especially for ships. The Americans and Japanese already realised this during the Second World War. Nowhere else in the world are there so many shipwrecks in so little space. Even if the Americans today can only be accused of associative behaviour towards the outside and inside: here they gave billions of fish massive asylum.
We head west for 1.5 hours with Coral Bay Divers. In a narrow passage between two islands lies the first Japanese gunboat. At a depth of 12 metres, the ship emerges from the deep blue. A short lap around the outside, then it’s time to go in. You actually need an Advanced Open Water Diver for this. But as nobody asks for my PADI licence anyway, it doesn’t matter. (more…)
Island Hopping South Of Coron
The day starts far too early again. Montezuma’s fist is playing pinochle with my intestines. Today we are going on a tour to the islands of Malcapuya, Banana Island and Bolog Island, 25 kilometres south of Coron. The ten-metre bangka takes 1.5 hours to get there. Only one young Phlippine couple is travelling with us.
The remnants of the night wind now give us a metre swell. Enough to throw the spray in fountains over the entire deck. Everything gets wet. We are travelling in the relative protection of the islands of the archipelago. Perhaps it’s just as well that we don’t get a bangka 160 kilometres to El Nido after all. The internet is full of horror stories about two-and-a-half metre waves, lost luggage, 30-hour trips and accidents. (more…)
Busuanga Buffalo Biking
Uli is doing her diving course. Meanwhile, I get myself a nice Yamaha DT for little money – and 100% insurance-free. The deposit is my driving licence. There are no police checks. The bike consists of handlebars, motor and two tyres. No lights, no fuel gauge, no speedometer, few brakes, no kick starter. Starting is only possible by pushing. Let’s have some fun!
The tarmac ends just ten kilometres after Coron City. What remains is a dirt track. Perfect for this bike. The difference between light and shade on the road is extreme due to the high sun. I miss a few deep potholes. Bridges are usually just a few wooden planks, if there are any. At one point I cross a small river. (more…)
Arrival On Coron
At last! That’s how it should be! The sun rises just before we enter the harbour in Coron. “The rainy season lasted much longer this year,” says a local resident. Until a few days ago, it rained non-stop for weeks. The result: murderous humidity at 30 degrees at seven in the morning. We almost fall over before we take a trike to the coconut resort.
The Kokonuss Resort is fine: small nipa huts in a tropical garden. Indian statues and fountains, flowers, palm trees, Nepalese flags. Wonderful. The bamboo hut is simple and cheap, but a bit mouldy. You get wet in the water. Banana pancake, shower and finally spread out our clothes. We stay here for a few days. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet. (more…)
Of Crusaders And Permanent Campers
I find two types of “travellers” extremely distasteful. One is the cruise traveller, the other is the long-term camper. Both take the meaning and purpose of travelling ad absurdum. The cruisers think that just because their bums are moving, they are travelling. A conspicuous number suffer a heart attack when they actually follow a short procession to some completely overcrowded tourist attraction.
The others are the permanent campers. What is the point of a home that was built for travelling but is only ever in one place? Travellers are free at heart, permanent campers only have free choice in prejudice. Why do permanent campers like lace curtains and garden gnomes behind hunter’s fences, but not hollow bricks? (more…)
Defiance Blog
Today is a defiance blog day. Departure at seven o’clock in Banaue. 350 kilometres through the rain down the mountains to Manila. After a while, the road even has a central reservation again. We make the journey in eight hours. Another 1.5 hours through Manila at rush hour. Roundabout in five “lanes”. The right-hand lane continues to circle, while the left-hand lane shoots outwards.
I miss a junction, we end up on the Skyway and are 10 kilometres away from the rental car station in no time at all. Open up, off to the hostel. In, spread out my water gear, out. There’s a small shopping centre around the corner. Small, that is, just under 500 shops. It goes by the name of Robinsons Plaza. Fitting. Search for the exit for half an hour. (more…)
Ifugao-Slacklining In Banaue
Before breakfast, we take a short hike to the hanging coffins of Sagada. The Ifugao bury their people hanging in rock faces or in one of the many caves. At breakfast we meet two nice backpackers from Holland and Italy. They had already admired my park skills yesterday. So now they think I’m a safe driver. We give them a lift to Banaue.
It continues to rain cats and dogs. The road leads over a rough dirt track 500 metres down into the valley. The axle seems to survive. It clears up briefly and the first rice terraces appear between clouds of mist. Then the road is completely closed due to a landslide. An excavator shovels a few tonnes onto a truck, then we carry on. (more…)
Cloud Rally To Sagada
Today’s route does not require a sat nav. Creep 20 kilometres out of Baguio in a traffic jam. Follow the serpentines for 100 kilometres straight on to Sagada. In fact, there is not a single tarmac descent or straight road on the entire route. The “highway” leads up into the clouds to over 2200 metres. The temperature drops to 12 degrees.
It’s pouring with rain. In the clouds, visibility is sometimes only 50 metres. In combination with the sudden appearance of a few hundred metres lowered road halves due to landslides, it is quite entertaining. The excitement is great when the road has completely slipped away and the diversion 50 metres higher up is an unsurfaced gravel track with a clear view down the steep face. (more…)
100 Islands National Park & Baguio
Funnily enough, everything that Lonely Planet recommends is completely overcrowded and twice as expensive. The 100 Islands National Park tops that. The cabins on the outermost island now cost four times as much as they did two years ago. So bye-bye Robinson, hello day trip. At 17 euros for a few hours on a private boat trip to some of the more than one hundred islands, it’s okay.
The islands are coral reefs raised from the seabed, completely overgrown with greenery and gnawed away by the sea at all edges. Some look like turtles, but most look like fossilised hippie mushrooms. I take my kite gear with me on the little bangka. Unfortunately, there’s no wind. But the trip is still great. (more…)
Chicken Or Fucking?
We set off at six in the morning. By then I’ve already spent three hours trying in vain to use my mobile phone as a laptop modem. Globe blocks the mobile phone as soon as it is connected to the laptop. Nothing frustrates web designers more than not having a connection. The omen of a daily motto knocks at the door.
We drive to the Marcos’ old summer house nearby. It’s still closed – and really completely covered in clouds. We roll back down into the volcanic crater of Lake Taal. No road in the whole of Talisay leads to the shore for a nice breakfast. We eat in the car. Stop at a shopping centre. Half an hour later it opens and two nice employees waste an hour and a half in vain trying to connect my mobile phone with a new Smart Simcard to the internet. (more…)
11 Million Reasons
There are 11 million reasons to hate Manila right off the bat. Manila is big, humid, loud, dirty and worse than the fuckers in Pattaya. We arrive at the hostel in the middle of the night. The quality of the karaoke show next door is almost semi-professional, the volume much louder. Four hours of sleep later, I’m flowing through the morning streets, discreetly jetlagged.
After three minutes, the first whore wants a cigarette. Then a massage. I’m not in the mood for a massage today. And her offer is too low. I decline and leave her looking a bit stupid. I want a SIM card and to get out of Manila. Quick breakfast at the hostel, out again and pick up the hire car. The taxi driver needs 15 minutes for the 5 kilometres as the crow flies, I need more than 1.5 hours back. (more…)
Fear Of Dragons
Some things just don’t go together. Or do you know a junkie with a phobia of syringes? Not me. I’m a kiter. As of today, I’m afraid of kites. Stupid thing. My first contact with China. I’m very intimidated.
The check-in at China Air in Frankfurt takes less than five minutes. A 30kg kite bag actually comes free of charge. At Condor, 1kg more costs 40 euros. The seat on the plane is gigantic. At over 1.93 metres, I don’t bump into the backrest of the person in front of me. On German airlines, if the person in front of me moves backwards, the only thing that usually helps is yodelling. Tai Chi exercises for dinner. (more…)
Dear Continentale Life Insurance
We have now been together for 10 years. During this time, I have made monthly contributions of €35.79 towards your welfare. Within 10 years, over € 4700 came together. In the end, there was still €3600 left. I am disappointed. I thought our relationship would last forever and we would both be good for each other. But unfortunately that was a fallacy. You only ever took, I gave.
Of course, nobody knows where stock market prices are going. Anyone can make a mistake. I’ve also speculated myself. But burning through a whopping 25 per cent over a period of 10 years with a few lows and many long highs is clearly a mature achievement, for which I pay you my respect. (more…)
The Philippines Kite Odyssey
It’s been a tough year. A lot of work, a lot of ups and downs, a lot has happened. The trees have lost their leaves, the fog is rolling through Regensburg and my web designer hands are chronic lollipop finger ice cubes. The last month has been a marathon of work with a dozen or so new websites completed and just as many hours of work every day. Time to travel.
I’ve been travelling a lot this year. Fuerteventura, Egypt, Morocco, Denmark and Rhodes. But none of it was really travelling. The difference between travelling and a holiday can be defined by one thing in particular: The feeling of really being in a place, in other words: the length of the trip. Making the trip yourself and accepting low-pressure areas as part of the journey. (more…)
Kitespots Wismar
Wismar is not famous as a good kitespot, but it has a lot to offer: firstly, at least half a dozen good kitespots within a radius of 40 kilometres. Secondly, a beautiful old town with a lot of history and, thanks to its small university, some nightlife away from the Musikantenstadel. Thirdly, good food and a large selection of affordable accommodation from €15 per night – ask at the tourist information centre on the main square.
The kite spots around Wismar all have one thing in common: the sea is very shallow. In some cases, you should stand 300 metres out for every jump – crash landings in 20 cm of water are no fun. At some kitespots, the local authorities charge outrageous fees for parking and beach use – but there are plenty of free kitespots. (more…)
Thank you, care emergency!
The care crisis in Germany is really starting to piss me off. Until a few months ago, I didn’t really care. But now I have a nurse as a friend. Unfortunately, one who became one because she really cares. The effects are gradually becoming quite drastic, even for me as a web designer who loves to work at night.
The care crisis in Germany didn’t come as a surprise. It’s more like a 200-metre tsunami in slow motion. Everyone suddenly mutates into surfing meerkats, standing in amazement on the coast and waxing their dusty surfboards. As if they had never seen a wave before. As if you could still ride this one with the correct style. 200 metres to the left of the nearest nuclear power plant. (more…)
Lindos By Night / Hellas, Quo Vadis?
Even on my first visit to Lindos, I noticed the countless pubs in old captains’ houses. But we didn’t have time for a night shift. This time we didn’t have time for sightseeing, we only came here for the nightlife. Check in at the hotel, down to the old town and into the night!
How did the crisis in Greece actually start? Not even the Greeks could explain it to me. Over-engineering, over-bureaucratisation and a good measure of wastefulness were certainly involved. But how the hell can you drive an entire country so hard against the wall in such a short space of time? (more…)
Kitesurfing Rhodes: Fanes & Prasonisi
Kitesurfing on Rhodes only gets really good in July. For us this year, it was absolutely fantastic at the beginning of June. I was out on four out of seven days. It would have been possible to do two more if I hadn’t had a nasty flu that meant I was constantly switching between kitesurfing and air conditioning in the car.
On the first day, the wind greeted me with a cosy ten knots in Fanes. Luckily the 19 is there, that’s enough. Fanes is a good kitesurfing spot on Rhodes: not far from Rhodes town, usually quite empty (maximum 20 kitesurfers), and the excellent little Hotel Delfini right on the beach. (more…)
Salam Morocco!
Morocco has changed a lot since my last visit 15 years ago. It’s even younger now. In some places and at certain times, you can hear Bollywood techno just as loud as the “Allah u akbar” from the tops of the minarets. Worlds are merging. Last time, all the women were veiled. Not any more, especially the young ones, some of whom are almost dressed up like Turkish women in Cologne on a Saturday night.
Legs of mutton hang in the sun. A thousand sacks of spices shine on the roadside. Housewives bargain for the best price for Nana mint. Beggars sit outside the entrance to the mosque. Essaouira is like a time machine. Incredibly old, new, smelly and fragrant, narrow and spacious. Medieval marketplace in the here and now. (more…)
At last! Kitesurfing In Essaouira
After nine days of waiting, the wind finally arrives in Essaouira. I’ve never waited so long for wind anywhere. It comes in strong. A cosy 12 in the morning, 15 to 24 knots in the afternoon, gusts well over that. Everything I’ve read is right: The wind is really stubborn. Not as bad as Bavarian lakes, but quite uncomfortable.
The dromedaries stand on the beach. Every now and then a student’s kite bangs into them. Training should actually be forbidden here. The waves are quite heavy, only one metre today, but there are plenty of them. The wind fluctuates slightly by 400% every five seconds. In conditions like these, kitesurfing schools only provide lasting experiences of the third kind. As soon as most of the body drag takes place in the air, there is little safety. (more…)
Dades Gorges
Tough day, another long journey. First stop: Agdz. A large group of young Moroccans are demonstrating loudly against food taxation. Now that the poor Americans have had enough of speculating in precious metals, gold and uranium, they are ruining the lives of the poorest of the poor with their greed. I hope it will strike back one day.
There is a waterfall on the way to Ouarzazate. I quickly find the sign for the Cacades de Tizguin, the track is rough gravel through volcanic rock. Then it goes through large holes and coarser gravel. A few deep washovers, narrow hairpin bends descending at 30% into a narrow valley. At the bottom, for the first time in a long time, I am ready to admit to myself that perhaps that was too much. (more…)
Sandstorm In The Sahara
Motorhead don’t play directly after Marianne and Michael. Nor does the last green before the Sahara turn directly into pure sand dunes. After the green comes the stony desert. The first islands of sand spread out in it. The last rivers run out into nothingness. Two more mountain ridges, then all I can see in the distance are shimmering sand dunes. 52 days to Timbuktu.
For the Touareg, even this is part of the Sahara. Large kasbahs bear witness to ancient caravan history. The temperature rises to just under 40 degrees. That’s quite low, explains a tar round in the shade of a kasbah. It soon gets up to 55 degrees here. A car passes by every half hour, almost exclusively jeeps, hardly any tourists. (more…)
The Touareg
Five days of permanent calm is more than a kitesurfer has to endure. I hire a car and set off before dawn. The road to Marrakech leads from hazy Mad Max via Tuscany without cypresses to the green granary in front of the high Atlas. Because of the bomb attack in Marrakech, the police checkpoints are as dense as in the Golden Triangle – only the armoury is a little more discreet.
After only an hour’s drive, a policeman shoots me down with a laser pistol. 20km/h too fast. My German driving licence saves me from punishment, as it did in the USA. Apparently we have worldwide freedom from fools when it comes to speeding. A little later, the police follow me with blue lights, and this time my stomach gets queasy. They overtake. For free. (more…)
The Author
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.