Jolly Me

Back when the seeds were being sown in K’gari, Australia

I’m sitting in Jollibee in Robinson’s Mall. Jollibee is a kind of Philippine version of McDonald’s and serves up Chicken Joy, Yum Burgers, Jolly Spaghetti, Jolly Hotdogs, and their speciality, Fiesta Noodles. But despite all the fun, I think everyone here is only here because they’re waiting for the shops to open. And I’m waiting for the Bureau of Immigration to open. All I Want for Christmas Is You is being piped through the speakers and it must be close to 30 degrees outside. It’s really difficult to accept that Christmas is around the corner as I’ve had none of my usual cues. Then a song like this pops up and clouts me.

I took a ride in a Jeepney to get here today. Partly because they’re very cheap but mostly because public transport is a good way to get a feeling for the inside of a place. Jeepneys were originally surplus military jeeps and, with an open rear door and a bench seat along each side, I guess they were the perfect vehicle for ferrying people around town. These days, it’s not just jeeps, but vans and trucks of all shapes and sizes that become Jeepneys. And this morning, I climbed aboard an old, beaten-up Toyota van that looked like it had been cobbled together in much the same way as some of the tricycles. The back and the sides had been cut permanently open and the low roof and narrow body meant crouching right down and crawling through knee-to-knee legs to get inside to a seat. I was reminded of the feet in India. Although knees are much nicer. Each ride costs only ten pesos (about 15p) which is passed from passenger to passenger until it reaches the driver. Then it’s all bumping and beeping and following whichever route is painted on the side the Jeepney. The driver picked up people wherever they happened to be standing, as far as I could tell. They just had to flag him down. And when they wanted to get off, they simply gave him a shout and he’d stop. It was really very efficient.

Despite my early start, I was already third in line by the time I got to the immigration office. Perhaps because when the mall opened, I joined my fellow Jollibee patrons in standing for the national anthem. And can only suppose that the two aliens ahead of me didn’t. Then I was told I needed another photocopy of my passport and was sent back out into the mall to get it done. The internet cafe was closed and the photocopier in the bookshop was broken but I accepted the challenge as part of the price. And, once again through the kindness of strangers, I found a print shop outside the mall and just down the road. Four pesos later, I was back in line. Bumped down to eighth for my troubles.

But it wasn’t so bad. I sat next to Dave from Derby who has lived in Puerto for four years. We chatted about all sorts of everything and used the term, Blighty. And then, for 3,000 pesos (about £45) and no questions at all, my visa is good for another 29 days. I could stay here until the 11th of January if I wanted to. I won’t, but it’s really quite nice knowing I can.

I’ve just arrived in Dumaguete, Negros. The islands I’m visiting are getting smaller and I have the feeling I’m heading further into the wilds and into sea. The airport here is tiny, but then so was the aeroplane. I sat next to Charlie, an occupational therapist and a long-time diving instructor who was also travelling alone. Since the beginning of this trip, I have been constantly blown away by the people I meet. It’s as if they are being hand-picked and put into place especially for me. Charlie works in palliative care and says she’s been taking gap years, or more usually months, for most of her life. She told me she dives to remember who she is. I beamed when she said it because that’s exactly the feeling I had when the seeds of this trip were sown in Australia last year. I couldn’t know then that diving would do it, but I must have had an inkling. Because I had felt it when I was camping on the beach. And when I was watching breaching humpback whales and manta rays from a cliff edge. And when I was snorkelling around tiny coastal islands. And when I was watching the surf at sunrise. I had felt it.

I’m here in Dumaguete for only a night. Tomorrow morning I take a boat over to an even smaller island. To Siquijor. I’m excited.

With huge love and gratitude to Mr & Mrs G