A little travel guide to the Philippines. I love travelling, and I have to. Because if you don’t love travelling for its own sake, you really have a problem in the Philippines.
Judging by their questions in the Philippines forums, many German visitors in particular seem to have no idea what travelling here is like. Impossible schedules meet unrealisable wishes. Time for some realism. (more…)
The ferry to Tablas arrives in Odiongan just an hour and a half late after sunset. A trike takes us to the Hiland Resort. We are the only guests in a gigantic beach front AC room right on the kite spot.
At Kitesurf-Mindoro, you don’t notice anything about Philippine prices. Boracay is always almost twice as expensive as the rest of the Philippines. Here on Tablas we are the only pale faces apart from a few kiting expats. We are far away from tourism and right in the centre of the real Philippines. The prices here are also real. Food now costs almost as much as at home – even though the exchange rate has shifted significantly in our favour in recent months. Travelling cheaply used to be good here. (more…)
Boracay is almost unrecognisable after the lockdown and radical renovation. There were queues of up to two hours in the harbour for registration and boat tickets. Once we arrived on Boracay, we were happy to wait another half an hour in the taxi queue and then spend up to another hour in a traffic jam for the five kilometres to the Bulabog. Today we need just 45 minutes from Caticlan harbour to our accommodation instead of three and a half hours. Boracay is finally free.
At Bulabog we run straight into many friends from Mindoro. It’s still a bit windy. Sebastian goes out for his first ride straight after checking in at Niu Ohana. I take my Edge to the Freestyle Academy for repairs. Thank you very much for the quick and inexpensive replacement of my strut valve! As the kite won’t be ready until the next morning, we immediately head out into a stormy night. (more…)
For the last 25 years, my life has been kitesurfing and travelling. I spent between three and seven months travelling every year. Now I’m a father and I’m scared. Do the two go together, or does one always come up short? I am infinitely grateful for the licence to travel solo for a month.
After a good 36 hours on the road via Mecca and Manila, I get off the small propeller plane in San Jose, Mindoro early in the morning. At the bus station, two half-people stand in my way. One half is Russian, the other Ukrainian. Together they talk incessantly and more than two whole people. (more…)
As a passionate kitesurfer, I have been travelling off the beaten track for over 20 years. Of the almost 100 countries I have visited, none fascinated me more than the Philippines. On three trips over a total of seven months, I appreciated reliable winds, the most varied spot conditions, the friendliest and most sincere people in the world, magical islands as well as varied nature, good food – and the right amount of adventure. For Germans, however, the Philippines often takes some getting used to. Travelling in the Philippines is different. It is more unpredictable. You have to be flexible. I read a lot of questions from German kiters: what, where or how to get from A to B? The necessary information is often hard to find. Kitesurf travel guide Philippines – Kitesafari 10/2/23 to 12/3/23
4800km road trip across Oman, from Salalah, along the coast, into the Wahabi Sands desert, from there into the mountains and via Sur, following the coast again to Muscat. In summer, up to 50°C inland.
We took three and a half weeks for this journey. We travelled through the sand in a rented Mitsubishi Pajero to beautiful white kite beaches with turquoise blue water, drove through impressive wadis and took in the breathtaking mountain scenery.
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The festival, which takes place near the small Danish town of Roskilde, is one of the biggest festivals in Europe with at least 130,000 visitors plus 25,000 helpers. Good friends and regular visitors said it was a must-see. So after two years of hibernation, I travelled directly from the InMusic Festival in Zagreb, a good 1,400 km away, which is quite small with 20,000 visitors.
I’m really over-celebrated and really tired. I also don’t like big crowds. And the line-up of the 50th Roskilde Festival is the worst for many years. After a week of partying, three things are clear to me. Firstly, with 180 bands and eight stages, everyone will find their gold. Secondly, not all that glitters is gold. Thirdly, digging for gold is usually a very dirty business. (more…)
In the last of my five weeks in Sicily, the Scirocco churns over Lo Stagnone for a few more days. The heaviest day drops back down to 12 degrees and peaks of up to 45 knots. Hardly anyone is outside, and even the friends and locals who ride this ultra-strong storm with the smallest kites don’t break their best marks.
I take a break and don’t go out again until a day later. The Scirocco continues to blast along at a slightly less rough 20 to 35 knots. I no longer fulfil my “Don Dodeci” mission, but I am satisfied with the 9.4m height I have achieved. The last few days my knee finally gives out. I can’t even edge without screaming – let alone jump off or even land. (more…)
As big fans of “The Godfather”, Corleone was naturally at the top of our list as the home town of practically all of Sicily’s big mafia bosses. According to four different sat navs in the car, it takes an hour and a half to get there. None of them is right. The country roads turn into dirt tracks several times.
The first two routes are completely closed. We ignore the third complete closure. After a few kilometres with potholes until just before Australia, the road quickly drops 40 cm across its entire width. We get over it, but definitely not back. After two and a half hours we arrive in Corleone. (more…)
The Mysteries of Trapani are one of the most important Christian festivals in Sicily. In a 24-hour procession, hundreds of believers carry twenty statues of saints weighing up to a tonne through the old town of Trapani on Good Friday at 2.00 pm. They are accompanied by numerous large brass bands.
We arrive in Trapani’s old town centre in time for the start and are immediately blown away by the sound. The first band seems to be playing the Godfather’s theme music. A slow Jesus rave in a minor key begins with marches around 70 BPM. Despite the cool weather, the porters are sweating from the very first minute. The mysteries of Trapani are the essence of the Catholic faith, which is celebrated even more powerfully in Sicily than in Bavaria. (more…)
The Zingaro National Park is located at the north-western tip of Sicily between Castellamare del Golfo and San Vito lo Capo. It can be reached within an hour by car from Lo Stagnone, regardless of whether you choose the northern or southern entrance. We drive to the entrance via narrow winding roads and the south. The entrance fee is five euros.
In the 1980s, the largest environmental protection movement in Sicily to date was formed here. The government wanted to build a road from Castellamare del Golfo to San Vito lo Capo. The entrance to the national park is the only completed tunnel in the project. The conservationists won. (more…)
My friend Tom and my wife are visiting me in Sicily. The first day together offers a good, powerful Scirocco and a bright, cool sunny day on the beach. I’m out kiting for almost three hours in total. Tom has unfortunately forgotten a lot in the four years since his beginner’s kite course in Egypt.
During his course, I realise for the first time what a hell of a sporting achievement the kite instructors here are. Running after the student for 100 metres dozens of times in soft mud up to 30 cm deep is extremely exhausting and frustrates Tom too. (more…)
My friend Wilko is visiting me from Berlin for a good week. For most of the week, the Scirocco blasted along at 18 to over 30 knots. On one day, it even reached a top speed of 46 knots. Definitely too much for our smallest kites. On the other days, we test all the spots in the northern lagoon of Lo Stagnone. On the few windless days, we toured western Sicily.
We start the first session at Wind, Water & Wine. The spot is run by the lovely Austrian Lena. It’s easy to set up on the grass. As with most other spots, there is no infrastructure. The only bars are in front of the kitesurfing resort – and all of them are still closed. You pay five euros a day at Lena. Carry your kite to the water’s edge, launch and head out onto the water. There are no dangers here apart from a few cacti on the narrow beach and a clearly visible rock in the water. (more…)
I was absolutely certain: corona is a mental illness and it mainly affects those who don’t have it. I was wrong. Just two weeks after testing free from my corona infection, I’m still finding it hard to breathe. I set off on my first big trip in two years and fly to Sicily for the first time with Ryan Air. The checkout is a true masterpiece of superfluous “offers”.
The taxi driver charges me €50 for an eleven kilometre journey from the airport to my first accommodation. The hostel manager confirms that the price is the same everywhere. Nothing mafia. Just Putin. The driver said it was because of the petrol prices. They are currently about 40 cents lower than in Germany. (more…)
I’ve had my eye on this forecast for a while. you rarely get 24 knots at 24°C in October on Lake Neusiedl. But the first disco after a year and a half break due to the coronavirus the night before, plus four and a half hours travelling to and from the lake and kiting are too much for one person alone.
Luckily, some friends spontaneously decide to drive over. One place is still free. After the disco, I quickly pack the kites at half past three. We set off an hour later. I sleep through the whole journey in the cosy camper. (more…)
I love travelling and people who think differently. They are my home. I respect discussion and even though I may often offend people with my sometimes extreme opinions, I always make an effort to either respect and understand other opinions – or to change them in objective discussions. The latter often also applies to my own.
Corona has finally sealed the demise of any meaningful culture of debate. The brilliant Israeli polymath Yuval Harari predicted back in 2016 in his deeply disturbing book “Homo Deus” that the internet would destroy democracies and ultimately humanity. Unfortunately, I can only agree with him today. (more…)
As the last island on our journey across the Dodecanese, Samos inspires us from the very first moment. The catamaran arrives in the old capital Pythagorio in the evening in heavy seas. By the time we check into the very fine Belvedere Hotel 600 metres behind the harbour, we are soaking wet. We walk through old narrow alleyways to the castle, to the ruins of an early Christian basilica and again to a good Greek garden restaurant.
Early the next morning we walk to the oldest and longest tunnel in the world, bored from two sides. Within a good 10 years around 540 BC, Euclides managed to join the two tunnels with a horizontal deviation of just two metres over a good kilometre using trigonometry alone. There were more problems vertically: Euclides had miscalculated the gradient for the aqueduct. The slaves were therefore also allowed to dig a trench up to eight metres deep into the limestone at the southern end. (more…)
Our last stop is in the north of Samos in Kedros. I suspected that kitesurfing would be possible here. But in the absence of any reports on the WWW, nothing was certain. I’m delighted when I spot the first kites down on the beach from the terrace of the Kedros Hotel as soon as I arrive.
The Kedros Hotel is a bit outdated, but super clean and the two hosts, Grandpa Ioannis and his wife Ijlal, are absolute gems. Nowhere were we happier. Our trip across five islands of the Dodecanese ends with top service, the best breakfast and fantastic sunsets with funny stories from the well-travelled owners on the terrace. The rooms have panoramic balconies with views of Kedros Beach, 150 metres away, and quiet air conditioning. The best way to book is to call Ioannis directly, he speaks good English: 30 6934 1327 22. (more…)
Lipsi is the smallest island on our tour. Settled since the Bronze Age, for centuries Lipsi served solely as a goat pasture for the monastery on the larger neighbouring island of Patmos. Today, Lipsi has just 700 inhabitants and is the only place in a wide area that serves water in glass bottles to its 8,000 overnight guests every year.
The village is committed to ecotourism. Plastic sun loungers and jet skis are therefore banned. Lipsi is the only island in the Dodecanese to practise waste separation. Our green dot has been around for over 30 years – and for just as long we have tolerated the fact that 60% ends up in waste incineration for “thermal recycling”. On Lipsi, all the wonderfully separated waste seems to end up in a single, poorly secured landfill site – with a fantastic view of the Aegean Sea. (more…)
In just 25 minutes, the Dodecanisos catamaran takes us across to Leros at a speed of 60 kilometres per hour. The island is completely different to Kalymnos: quite green, varied and confusing. With its many bays, no island in the world has ever managed to confuse me so often. Only shortly before departure do we realise from which harbour we are heading.
The Paradisso Studios on Vromolitos beach deserve their name. A Garden of Eden full of fruit to eat is guarded by rather snappy geese. They don’t mind stealing – but they do mind being approached. We hire a fine 125cc Symphony scooter with plenty of steam and immediately swing up to the medieval castle on one of the highest mountains above the old marina of Leros. (more…)
Early the next morning, we jump on the spaceship to the moon. On the upper deck, the Meltemi blows in our faces at a good 40 knots. The moon doesn’t seem to have a slipstream. But there are much cheaper means of transport. You can hire a small old car on the moon for a quarter of the price of Kos, starting at €30 per day. Let’s treat ourselves.
Our accommodation is located at the end of a road that winds into the steep slopes of Melitsahas on a small private beach with a view of the barely inhabited neighbouring island of Telendos and the sunset. Perfect – only the high cliffs on both sides stop me from kiting. We set off. Oleander bushes and wild thyme grow next to the steep mountain roads. Otherwise, Kalymnos really is like the moon: abundantly bare and rocky. For climbers, the moon is pure paradise. Dozens of them hang in every halfway shady shell limestone wall. (more…)
Kos is beautiful but offers less greenery than Corfu, for example, and significantly less variety and historical buildings than Rhodes, for example. As car hire prices have risen in recent weeks to at least €125 a day for a small car, we switch to a 50cc scooter. We tour to the western end of Kos, climbing steep hills in the blazing sun and gazing out at the endless blue. We stay away from the few tourist hotspots that are approached every day by an armada of large buses.
At sunset, we drive to the highest mountain village of Zia. It’s all hustle and bustle here, but that’s to be expected given the panorama. The moon rises over the mountains. Clouds sweep over the ridge. After a hard climb, we roll back down to Tigaki, which is much warmer despite the difference in altitude of only 300 metres. (more…)
Behind us all lies a year and a half of pandemic restrictions. I also have a year of digital promotion behind me with web design jobs until I drop. We want to be free again and enjoy life. The day before we leave for our honeymoon, the German government declares our holiday destination Greece a risk area. Of course I’m pleased that, as fully vaccinated travellers, we don’t have to go into quarantine on either the outward or return journey. But Delta is giggling expectantly in the background. Tests are not even mandatory.
Shortly before Munich Airport, my car’s oil warning light comes on for the first time in 13 years. During the last oil change, I must have given the engine oil more freedom in the form of a half-closed top-up cap. It was obsessively steaming and waving at me from the oil pan with a shiny black colour. I immediately impose a hard lockdown and wonder how pandemics can promote the ability to interpret oracles. (more…)
The only thing I knew about Rostock was the Sonnenblumenhaus. A good quarter of a century later, I knew little about it either. Or maybe never? So I wanted to see Rostock. The greeting in the middle of the KTV district, which is more colourful than Berlin, is “Welcome to the commune!”. A little surprised, I grin invisibly to myself.
Rostock is hard to grasp. Full of contradictions, colourful and still cruel in many areas. Cars drive on the left. That’s how you express your attitude. By parking in the centre of intersections you express your social vein. Every traffic light on main roads is red if you drive correctly. The speed cameras are at close intervals and the parking attendants love foreign licence plates. In the morning everything jams into the centre – in the evening outwards. Fortunately, kiters have the opposite rhythm. (more…)
Actually, the report should have been called “Warnemünde”. But after practically every spot on the Baltic Sea has only been available for a high parking fee in recent years, Warnemünde really takes the cake. Within an hour of searching for a car park in the furthest corners, I really can’t find anything under €20 for a longer kite session. In high season, you pay €3 per hour up to one kilometre from the beach. There are cheaper car parks. From October. They’re all full now.
I head west along the coast in search of cheaper kite spots. There are several kite spots here, e.g. Nienhagen, Heilgendamm and Kühlungsborn. Each one is hopelessly overcrowded. Parking costs at least €5. Despite the good wind, I don’t see a single kite in the sky. (more…)
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.