12 days of Christmas

Warmup: Jump rope - got several right footed single skips. even managed to get three consecutive! It may sound like a terribly minor achievement, but it's actually pretty major. I have not ever had any success trying to jump exclusively on my right foot, and having enough balance to stay only on my right foot and make it over the rope three times is an exceptional achievement.

WOD:
On the first day of Christmas CrossFit gave to us.....

1 - Muscle-up - subbed 4 band assisted ring dips
2 - HSPU - subbed piked push-ups
3 - Dead-hang pull-ups - green band assisted (mostly) dead-hangs
4 - Jumping squats
5 - Burpees
6 - Push-ups
7 - Toes to bar - subbed knees to elbows
8 - Forward rolls
9 - Double Unders
10 - KB Snatch 1.5pd / 1pd - used 8kg
11 - Box jumps
12 - Virtual snow shoveling 45# plate/25# plate (24"barrier)

Comments:

This went pretty well for a workout I didn't really think i wanted to do.

Actually the most exciting part was pre-WOD when i decided to see whether I could do box jumps, and I managed to jump - without any assistance - to a stack of bumper plates. First I tried 2 of the fuzzy 45# plates - about 10" maybe? - and it was no problem, I put a smooth 45# plate on top of that - maybe another 4" - and tried it, and it was still totally manageable, so I put a 25# plate on top of that (another 3") and, while it was a bit intimidating, I found I could do that, too. I nearly took a nasty backwards spill when I tried to show Daniel my new achievement; I got distracted by someone else. But I got it on my second attempt. I was actually bummed not to get to the box jumps in the WOD. That's a first, for sure.

Since the 3 pull-ups were supposed to be dead-hang, i tried to keep my band assisted pull-ups as kip free as I could - and for the first several rounds, they were fairly static - as the rounds went on, as I started getting tired i started kipping a bit more.

I have to say that I find it very gratifying that I am still making improvements in some areas despite the fact that my diet has been absolute crap this month, and I've only been making it to a handful of workouts a week.

Diet wise, I've pretty much written off the month of December. There are just too many wonderful things out there this time of year, and I am enjoying my freedom to eat whatever terrible food i want, but I definitely feel and see the effects of not eating clean, so I am also looking forward to getting 'back on the wagon' in January.

800m x 4

WOD:

Run 800m every eighth minute for 32 minutes.

5:18; 5:24; 5:19; 4:56


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Push jerks

Wod:
Push jerk

3-3-3-3-3

50-55-55(f rep 3)-55-60(f rep 3)

I find the 'proper' pre-jerk rack position to be awkward and exhausting. I can get it for rep 1, but resetting to it after rep 1 just drains all my energy. Definitely something to work on.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Mary

"Mary"

As Many Rounds As Possible in 20 minutes:

5 Handstand Push-Ups - subbed piked pushups
10 Pistols (5 each leg) - sat down to a stack of weights - stack had to be 1 35# taller for right leg
15 pull-up - band assisted


4rounds + all pistols (i think)

4:53; 5:20; 3:34; 6:13;

Think the last time was 1 full round plus a second through the pistols ...
Really liked the 'sitting down to a stack of weights' modification for pistols - it seems like a good way to keep the proper form, and work your way down to zero assistance.

Sorta Cindy 12-12-09

Warmup: row 2000m, - 9:2? - not my fastest, but was trying to keep it a warmup, not a max effort.

WOD:
AMRAP in 20 minutes

5 push-up
5 pull-up
5 push-up
15 squats

Results:

Round	Time	Elapsed
1	1:18	1:18
2	1:46	3:04
3	1:46	4:50
4	1:55	6:45
5	2:24	9:09
6	2:28	11:37
7	2:18	13:55
8	2:04	15:59
9	2:01	18:00
10	2:00	20:00

Comments:
The squats were really my limiting factor here. It was nice to break up the pushups, but since everything else was 5 reps, 15 squats felt like a lot, and since my squats are terrible, and I was trying for the best ROM I could manage, they just took a long time. In the last round I had 45 seconds to get through 15 squats, and I still barely managed to eke out the last squat before time was called.

12-11-09

Warmup
1 mile: 10:52

2 left handed pushups - using knees

Several 5 or 6? Clapping pushups with an actual clap - can't really catch myself after, yet, so they're not really consecutive

WOD
Clean and jerk 3-3-3-3-3

50-55x1-50-55-55


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

12-10-09

Deadlift - 135-145-150 (-12# apparently using a 33# woman's bar. DAMN)

Press 50-55f

Back squat 65-75-80 frep3


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

12-6-09

WOD:
Run 400m/Row 500m
50 Double Unders (subbed 4xsingle skip)
12 Push Press/Jerk 155# (subbed 55# and then 50# after rep #5 rd 2)

Round	400m	Jump Rope	Push Press	Elapsed
1	2:18	3:50	4:38	10:46
2	2:48	5:37	10:45	29:59
3	2:52	3:51	3:55	40:34

Comments:
This WOD was horrible.  I thought the 4 x skips were going to be an easy sub.  I got a side stitch. The 55# PP were ridiculously hard.  Round 2 was so long because I decided to go looking for my own bar after rep #5 (i was sharing with 2 other girls) and of course by the time i got back, they were both done.   But for all its horribleness, at least I can say that I finished it.  Coming back from vacation SUCKS.

12-4-09

Decsending ladder 10-9-8-...-2-1

1P kb swings
Situps
Air squats

1:35, 1:34, 1:40, 1:24, 1:19, 1:13, 1:40 (4&3), 0:37, 0:24

11:29


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Philippines Day 10: Wet, wet, wet

It is now most of the way through Tuesday, and it has rained all day. It is a warm and (mostly) gentle rain, so it hasn’t put too much of a damper on the experience, but it did cause us to postpone our scuba lesson until tomorrow when, hopefully, it will clear up. We did go snorkeling on the eastern side of the island, where the rain did not make much difference in the experience. It was as advertised: the quantity and variety of fish on this side dwarfed that of the other, though the coral was generally not as impressive. Everyone agreed that the highlight of the session was the large octopus that Marcus found hiding under a ledge (he has very sharp eyes), but also very cool were the breadbox-sized clams lying open-mouthed on the sea bed, and the HUGE school of hundreds of big fish sweeping slowly along the coral, tails a-flutter as they fed on something we could not see. There were also smaller schools of small turquoise fish that mingled with orange ones, and bright bright iridescent blue ones hanging out near the octopus. Parrot fish were abundant, as were other, opalescent fish that reminded me of giant mood rings. Several lavender starfish, fully two feet from tip to tip, sprawled on the bottom amid some nasty-looking but beautiful sea urchins.

Rebecca came this time, and had a far more positive experience than she’s ever had before. In the past, she’s felt somewhat freaked out by all the fish, and the sense that there was something lurking in the water that she couldn’t see. Whether it was due to the clarity of the water or her own increased bravery, however, she didn’t have that problem this time. She didn’t much like the minor jellyfish stings, though (none of us did), and has been suffering today from a bit of traveller’s rumbletummy, so she didn’t stay out too long. Jai got out a little bit later, lips faintly bluish from chill (the guy has about 5% bodyfat). I hung in as long as I could, reluctant to give up the amazing things there were to see all around us, but also having a difficult time between the nasty saltwater taste in my throat and cramping feet and calves unaccustomed to so much swimming and tired from yesterday. I would swim back to shore occasionally to stand on solid ground, empty my mask and just spend a few minutes resting and breathing normally before plunging back in for another look around. Levi and Marcus were indefatigable, diving down to the floor to point out particular things they had spotted. I tried diving myself a few times, and was surprised at the sudden pressure in my ears. I was never able to fully clear my snorkel when I came back up, though, so would usually spend a while afterwards dumping seawater out of the mask and snorkel, which was tiring.

Rebecca came back an hour or so later to tell us it was time for lunch, which tasted sooo good after all that nasty seawater. Now we are all resting in our separate rooms, staring somewhat morosely out at the storm (which has gotten very blustery). Ben checked the satellite map, and the storm is supposed to have already passed us and is heading southeast away from the islands, so it should clear up by tomorrow if not later today. There has been some discussion of returning to the western side for a little more snorkeling, but between the storm and the lateness of the hour (it’s already 4:30), I doubt it will happen. It’s a shame, as we would all love to get in some quality time in the sun – hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Addendum: we wound up going snorkeling again, after all. It was a learning experience: don’t bother snorkeling after a storm. We went quite late in the afternoon, with only an hour or so of light left. The water was dark, murky, and almost totally devoid of life. We swam from the stairs on the northwestern corner of the island down to the house where Levi and I went yesterday, a distance of about a mile, then got out and walked back. By that time, it had gotten so dark that one of the island’s security guys had come after us with a flashlight. A nice little bit of exercise, but the prettiest thing we saw was the fragment of sunset through the clouds before it started raining again.

Dinner was a bit more subdued than last night – I think people are trying not to let the weather get them down. Ben played his new favorite game: mock the Koreans. The other group on the island with us is a group of Korean couples that he says are on a marriage tour – something he says they like to do, that costs exorbitant amounts of money. They are young, rambunctious, don’t speak any English (except for their guide, who is the only one of them to interact with the staff whatsoever), and are prone to odd behavior (like wearing life vests in the shallow pool). Ben just HATES them, and relishes in opportunities to point out rude or (by our standards) classless things they do. I know mocking tourists is a favorite pastime of natives – we did it in Winthrop, and occasionally in San Francisco- but maybe since I’m a tourist here myself I’m less inclined to be critical and just chalk their behavior up to that of excited young newlyweds. I didn’t like the cigarettes they were smoking at lunch, however. (By and large, smoking here is only a little bit more common than it is in the Bay Area, and they generally have the same policies against smoking in restaurants and public areas that it hasn’t been a problem at all. You usually have to walk through a haze of smokers at the tables outside the entrance to the mall, but it’s a tiny nuisance and it’s smoke-free inside.) The resort has promised to seat us further apart in the future, and since it’s an open-air pavilion and we usually don’t eat at the same time anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem again.

Philippines Day 9: Off to Sumilon

If there is a benefit to jet-lag, it is that – in certain situations – it makes getting up insanely early a lot easier. 3:30AM found us up and about with only a little bitching and moaning, finishing up our packing, microwaving coffee and adobo pandesals I’d purchased for us the night before (Turns out Seattle’s Best, on the second floor, makes much better coffee and pastries than Starbucks. They do not, however, have real cream to put in it.) The trip to the airport was a replay of our trip to Palawan, though our party had more than doubled in size. With us for this leg of the journey are Ben, his best man Ray, Alison, Levi and Jai (Raine’s son from a previous marriage. He’s 21 but looks 16, rail thin with a huge smile and monstrous appetite for plain white rice.) We were surprised to hear that Raine wasn’t coming, but apparently the plan was always to get us out of town and out of her hair so she could focus on the wedding.

The short flight to Dumaguette island was followed by a 10-minute drive to the beach, where we hopped on a relatively large banca that took us to Sumilon. Sumilon is the name of both the island and the resort that is its only resident. It is small (you can walk all the way around the island in less than an hour) but extraordinarily beautiful, with two large white beaches and surrounded by clear, azure waters and coral reefs. There are only 14 rooms in the whole resort, in plush cottages with big sliding French doors that open out onto the beach. The common area is up a little hill overlooking the two beaches, with a large open-air pavilion that houses a few dining tables, the front desk and a large Christmas tree constructed of wire and big, brown tropical leaves. Nearby is an “infinity pool” that looks out over the sea and is ringed with smaller hot-tubs, a series of smaller pavilions with beds where they have seaside massages. Orange, yellow and red bouganvillea arches on trellises over the stone stairs leading down to the larger beach and its lagoon. It is, without doubt, the closest I have ever been to the typical tropical island paradise. Sometimes I find myself humming the theme to “Gilligan’s Island.” It is also astonishingly cheap, considering how luxurious it is (there are probably mid-rate hotels in Fresno that charge more, and don’t include three meals a day and snorkeling).

Rebecca was suffering from congested ears and a general icky feeling, and others wanted to rest, so Levi and I grabbed a pair of snorkels and headed off to see what we could find. One of the local staff recommended the waters off the western short, so we started following the path around the island. We wound up going about 1/3^rd of the way around the island before we found a spot where we could clamber down some rocks to get in the water, but oh, what we found when we got there!

I have only been snorkeling once, and it was a disappointing experience. My mask leaked a lot due either to my beard or its shoddy manufacture, and the location (off the Denali coast in Kauai) left much to be desired. This was entirely different. The water was only a few feet deep, but the coral was vibrant and extremely diverse: some shaped like huge leaves, some like brains, some like spiky branches, and all different colors. Tons of fish, too, of course. We saw blue and white angel fish the size of dinner plates, and large clown fish peeking out at us from their gently waving anemones. Other fish of all shapes and sizes, such variety as to defy description. We didn’t have fins for our feet, so we didn’t get very far, but we were really impressed with what we saw. Levi had a nasty run-in with a severed jellyfish tentacle, so we decided to pack it in and head back, as this was only ever supposed to be a scouting mission. Talking later to another staff member, he told us that side of the island had bigger fish, but the other (eastern) side had a larger quantity and variety, so we resolved to check that out the next day.

By that time it was starting to get late, so we convened up by the pavilion for cocktail hour. The mosquitoes were out, which was a bummer, but also out were the bats, which were amazing. None of us had ever seen bats so large – they seemed as big as eagles, flapping overhead in the waning light. Fruity island drinks were the popular option, but I’ve never really been a fan, so I went with a simple scotch. They lit candles on the tables as it grew dark, and we watched the lights from nearby boats dance across the water as we ate our dinner.

Philippines Day 8: Winding up for the Wedding

Our last day in Manila before departing for Sumilon was primarily a family affair. We had contemplated checking out the Binondo and Quiapo districts (Manila’s Chinatown) early in the morning, but Ben told us there wouldn’t be anything happening there on a Sunday morning, except in the churches and they would be packed. So we just waited until 11 when Ben, Raine and his daughter Alison and her fiancé Levi (who had just flown in the night before) picked us up and took us to lunch at (where else?) a mall.

I had to admit, the Greenbelt mall (so called because they had a small area with trees and plants surrounded by six separate, huge malls) had ours beat by a mile. The thing was HUGE – six malls of four floors each – and very fancy. We had a really tasty lunch at an upscale restaurant that served classed Filipino cuisine, and Ben and Raine made sure we covered all the bases in terms of getting all the traditional dishes. I’ve been trying to eat native dishes wherever we go, but the quality has been really hit-or-miss. This was the best so far – tilapia braised in a honey marinade, super-garlicky pork adobo, a fish stew, sweet and spicy calamari, shrimp and vegetables in a coconut curry, and a deep-fried pork that was a bit intimidating (I normally avoid red meat, but made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t turn anything down while I’m here. Including balut (fertilized duck egg, a local delicacy), which I’m hoping nobody offers me.

After lunch, we wandered around the mall so that Alison could find some shoes to match her bridesmaid’s dress. Half of one floor was devoted entirely to luxury watchmakers. Gigantic photos of sour-faced, half-naked, anorexic women in weird makeup and weirder clothing glowered down at us from the high-fashion shop windows. Air-conditioning blasted us with frigid air while big doors stood open to the outside. I was in heaven.

Alison finally found a pair of shoes she liked (and could afford), and Rebecca and Dana got some, too. By this time Alison and Levi were feeling the effects of the jet-lag, so we went back to the hotel where they could take a small nap before we headed off to the rehearsal dinner.

While they slept, Ben and I went across the street to get some coffee. I like Ben, but I find him an interesting character. He likes to take up a lot of space, both physically (he’s as tall as I am) and psychically. He speaks to friends and fellow Americans with a boisterous southern geniality that makes him easy to like, but adds a tone of sharp command when speaking to waiters and staff that shocks my liberal Bay Area sensibilities.

After a brief rest, we were off to the wedding rehearsal dinner. I was excited, as this would be my only chance to experience Filipino home life. The dinner was hosted by a cousin of Raine’s (she seems to have an endless supply of cousins) in a very affluent suburb of Manila. From the street, the neighborhood didn’t seem too different from an American one, but it was very different inside. From the Audi TT and Acura parked in the driveway, it was clear we were in a home with a lot of money, but architecturally speaking it was surprisingly bland. The rooms were a simple series of boxes, each with a different linoleum or concrete or tile-patterned floor. We were introduced to a dizzying array of friends and relatives, all of whose names we promptly forgot. Unfailingly friendly and polite, they nonetheless didn’t know quite what to do with us, so sat us at a table off to the side with glasses of super-sweet orange soda.

The dinner, which I had been looking forward to with great curiosity, was something of a letdown. There was a LOT of food, and I took a little bit of everything, but none of it was particularly good. Particularly noteworthy was the mystery meat (probably pork) casserole in a sauce that tasted of cream of mushroom soup and instant coffee. The chocolate cake, however, was excellent. During dinner, we all watched the last quarter of a college basketball game between the two big rival schools in Manila.

The rehearsal itself was a casual, rushed affair, orchestrated by a stylish gay man with poofy bleached hair, granny glasses and zippers on the backs of his pantlegs (it would appear the predisposition of gay men towards wedding planning is an international phenomenon). The script for the wedding was in thick purple folders for everyone to review, and they’ve got all the bells and whistles planned. Unity candle, unity bouquet, unity wine ceremonies combined with three or four readings, a song from Phantom of the Opera and the vows themselves, the ceremony is scheduled to take an hour, but I have my doubts. It’s a very nontraditional ceremony for the Philippines, which is fully 90% Catholic. Raine seemed to be annoyed that people were not taking the rehearsal very seriously. She has clearly put a great deal of effort into planning this thing (the script is extraordinarily detailed), and Ben tells us she badly wants it all to be perfect. When the day itself comes, I really hope they’re both able to let all the expectations go and just enjoy themselves, so they don’t get caught up in a cycle of disappointment over all the things that will inevitably go wrong.

By the time the rehearsal was over, it was getting late. Alison and Levi were barely coherent, and we had to get back to the hotel and get ready to leave at 4:30 the next morning. We said our goodbyes to the nameless smiling faces of the party and went back to the hotel with Mel at the wheel, careening wildly through the streets with horn blazing in the face of drivers who refuse to turn on their headlights at night for fear of wearing out the bulb.

Philippines Day 6 & 7: In which I bitch, a bit

Our last day in Palawan dawned cloudy, in more ways than one. The inclement weather outside matched the mood inside, as indecision reigned over how to spend our last few hours on the island. We had slept in, for once, and we had to be at the airport in time for a 5:30 flight, so we didn’t have a whole lot of time. But what to do?

I thought it would be interesting to visit Honda Bay, even though we’d sort of decided against it due to all the boat-riding it entailed and our seasick-prone crew of adventurers. But, I argued, we wouldn’t be doing the full tour of the bay, we’d just get a boat and go to one island, just to hang out a bit and see what it was like, then we could turn around and come back. This is ultimately just what we did.

With the late start and the early departure, we only got a little under two hours on Snake Island, the island our helpful desk staff recommended to us. That turned out to be just fine, however, as the weather turned against us and got quite stormy, rendering the island not a whole lot of fun anyway. But we had time to go for a little stroll down a beautiful beach right on the reef of the bay, and to wade into warm, clear blue water and look from above at the large, beautiful fish that came to nibble on our toes. Rebecca even came with me with a bit of bread and bravely stood in front of dozens of swarming fish, with very little freaking out on her part. She’s even looking forward to the scuba lessons at the resort – as am I.

It wasn’t much, but it was a pleasant little excursion that finally got us a taste of what Palawan – and the Philippines – are famous for, and a nice little preview (hopefully) of things to come on Sumillon.

The rest of the day was taken up with the trip back to Manila, getting back to the hotel and checked in and fed at, of course, the mall.

This is going to be the portion of the blog wherein I do a bit of venting. You see, I don’t like malls, and I haven’t liked them since I was a teenager (when such predilections were compulsory). And it has irked me, throughout our stay, how much of our visit seems to orbit malls. We live across the street from what is probably the most upscale mall in the country. We’ll be going to yet a different one tomorrow. All Ben can talk about is which mall is better for what purpose. But I don’t WANT to spend all my time in bastions of western consumerism! I want to experience Filipino life and culture!

I had a minor epiphany today: malls ARE Filipino life and culture. They are far more, to them, than convenient places to shop. They are a center for socializing, for seeing and being seen, for getting out of the oppressive heat, grime and chaos that surrounds them all the time into a cool, clean, tidy little bit of paradise. Many of them have other attractions as well. Ours boasts a large outdoor pavilion tent that can house travelling fairs, dances, etc. Another one has a large-scale, 15-minute firework display every Saturday evening (we watched it from our hotel room). It’s like Vegas. Which I also hate. And as much as I feel trapped in this hotel, and in Makati in general, many Filipinos would consider this prime vacation real estate.

Which doesn’t really make me feel any better, but I do appreciate the insight. One of the reasons I liked Palawan so much, despite the noise and smell and ugliness, was its lack of pretension. Here the people-watching mainly consists of watching the Manilan glitterati strut around, and there really isn’t a discernable difference between American and Filipino hipsters. It’s all very silly.

Thus far, our efforts to escape have been largely stymied. Tomorrow we had planned on taking a daytrip to Ta’al, a nearby volcanic lake, but we’ve had to give that up in deference to Ben’s plans to take us to Green-something mall so we can see their great pearl market. We keep dropping hints to imply the sort of things we’d LIKE to be doing, but these are brushed aside with, “oh, I wouldn’t go there – it’s dirty and there are a lot of pickpockets” or, “that would be a great thing to do the next time you visit.” Combine this with the situation that Ben and his fiancée Rain are – in many ways – hosting us here and the fact that we have to look out for Dana and Marc, and our choices are limited. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

We got away for a very little bit this afternoon, taking a taxi to the American Cemetery. Not something that ever would have occurred to me to do, but Greg (our guide from Intramuros) recommended it strongly at least twice.

It is a beautiful place. I think, perhaps, that Greg likes it so much is the same reason that Filipinos cherish their malls: it is extraordinarily clean, spacious, and organized – all the things that Manila is decidedly not. It is quite large (13,600 Americans and Filipinos killed during WWII are buried there)¸with grave markers laid out in broad curves that follow the hill contours. At its center is a large, circular memorial with dozens of large marble walls with the names of the dead inscribed thereon. The real breath-taking moment came when we walked into one of the map rooms. GIANT, intricately laid-out handmade mosaics grace the walls, depicting in map format the history of WWII in the Pacific – battles, ships, islands and explanatory text all lovingly rendered in tiny shards of colored stone and glass. We learned a lot from these big maps that we hadn’t known before.

Philippines Day 5: Exploring Puerto Princesa

Today was considerably lower-key, though still pretty busy. To start things off, we took a half-day tour of the city of Puerto Princesa. We didn't really know what the tour would contain, but figured at the very least it would give us a better sense of where we were and what there was to see here.

It was a good tour, covering several of the also-rans in the guidebooks' list of things to do. First we went to the Crocodile Sanctuary, which is basically a small, rural zoo with a rather intense focus on crocodiles. I was never really clear on WHY these guys breed hundreds and hundreds of crocs, but there you have it. We saw the hatchery, and the adult pools, and a series of small enclosures in the forest with bearcats, civets, cockatoos, etc. I am never a fan of zoos, particularly under-funded ones, but this one was pretty good for such a small town, and their focus was clearly on conservation and rescue rather than capture and display.

From there, we went to a different sort of zoo: the Iwahig penal colony. Several decades old, Iwahig is a model of unconventional incarceration. Covering many acres of land, inmates live and work together on cultivating rice fields, building houses, and working on various crafts and knick-knacks for sale. They wear color-coded shirts (orange for minimum, blue for medium and orange for high-security) but all work together. Many of them live in houses that they've built for their families, and their children attend the same school as the guards' kids. It's all very forward-looking, despite having been around for decades, and they boast the lowest recidivism rate in the Philippines. It's a beautiful piece of country, though we only got out of the car to visit the gift shop. Mostly carved wooden knick-knacks and souvenirs, though I did score a handkerchief printed with a hilarious design of a smiling inmate with a ball and chain.

From there we stopped briefly at the highest hill in Puerto Princesa, atop which sits the local Congressman's ranch, which he allows the public to visit while he's in Manila. It commands an impressive view of the city and Honda Bay, though today was rather hazy from what appeared to be a lot of burning in the valley.

We took a short break at a nearby bakery, where Rebecca, Marc and I bought a whole bag of goodies to sample (for $3). Here's what we discovered: Ube is a purple root vegetable commonly used in sweets here. The ube ice cream I had was pretty good, though Marcus declared it tasted like old socks. Today's ube cookie was less good. The mocha munchies that Marc got were like little cupcakes with coffee and chocolate icing, but were not very good. The dried banana chips are excellent and very addictive. Pandesals are like dinner rolls stuffed with various meats, and are generally OK but vary widely in quality from one place to the next. The empanadas were good, as was the cheese bread. The "crinkles" were basically little chocolate cookies coated in powdered sugar: good, but nothing you couldn't get in the States. The real discovery was the pianonos, a roll of sweet, doughnut-like bread rolled into a long tube (like a churro) with a bit of dulce de leche, then dusted with sugar. They are extremely tasty.

Onward to the next stop, a weavers' collective. In support of a local orphanage and to support out-of-work teens, this collective takes native grasses, dyes them and weaves them on looms into a wide variety of crafts which it then sells in local markets. Many, many beautiful things like placemats, table runners, blinds, wall hangings, and other ornaments festoon the little shop by the weavers, but the real highlight had to be the purses and handbags. Really, really pretty stuff. We did get one gift there, but it's hard to buy that kind of thing for other people. Rebecca's probably going to take Dana back there tomorrow (she didn't come with us on the tour), as we were certain she would want one of the bags.

That was it for stops, but the tour took us the long way home by way of the bay road and the port, so we could see more of the city. We swung by a wide assembly area by the bay where they are in the process of assembling an enormous Christmas tree (Christmas in the Philippines is huge. Someone (Greg?) told us that they pride themselves on having the longest Christmas season in the country.) Saw the local cathedral and its surrounding cluster of schools, and caught a glimpse of the big open-air market in the heart of town.

Once back the hotel, we rested a little and then went with Dana to a local coffeeshop for lunch. Good, strong coffee with genuine milk in it was a real treat - I've been living off the rather uninspired stuff in the hotel cafe - but I struggled to find any tuna at all in my meager tuna sandwich. The pandesals I ordered as a follow-up were much better. From there we went back to the market, in search of various small items that we needed.

The market was a trip. Taking up most of a city block, it's a labyrinth of booths crammed together with very narrow walkways and very low ceilings. At its heart is the seafood section, where fish and shellfish of all types, fresh and dried, created a distinctive aroma that drove Rebecca straight back to the Hello Kitty wallet vendor. One whole section of the market was devoted to rice, with large piles of it separated out by some completely unfathomable logic (it all looked like white rice to me). Another to vegetables, one to fruit, clothes, toys, random crap, etc. This place was for locals, and Rebecca (with her blond hair) and I (with my height) stood out like sore thumbs. Curious eyes and hesitant smiles followed us wherever we went. I had decided that I would like to find some dried mango (side note: the mango here is amazingly good - vastly superior to the mango we get in the States. Apparently they can't export it, due to some conspiracy of international fruit bureaucracy, if you believe local legend), but I was unsuccessful in my search, unable to decipher the stream of Tagalog that met my query of a random woman who spoke enough English to hail us as we passed. Oh well: a project for the remainder of the trip. We were successful in our other chores: postcards for Dana, and undershirts for me and Marc for the wedding.

We got back to the hotel in time to do a little housekeeping, caption and upload the pictures from the last couple days, and just chill out until dinner. We opted not to revisit Ka Lui, instead taking Dana across the street to a place whose name forever escapes me. Something like "Kettlebush." We feasted on a wide variety of (mostly) delicious dishes. I struck out with one local delicacy that Ben had advertised: green mango served with a fermented fish paste. Two horrible tastes that taste horrible together. Well, not horrible, exactly, but strong. Green mango is very very sour, and fermented fish paste is very very... fermented fish paste. Everything else was great, though, and (like everything here) shockingly cheap.

Puerto Princesa is a BIG city measured in space (the largest in the Philippines), but the population is only 250,000 or so, and the vast majority of commercial life happens on an axis of two roads: Rizal Avenue, which runs west from the port, and the North Highway which runs lengthwise along the island. Our hotel is practically on the intersection of these two roads, about a mile and a half from the port. I can't call it a pretty city by any stretch: it is a noisy, smelly jumble of haphazard buildings separated by arteries of nonstop traffic. Still, walking back to the hotel from the restaurant, I felt a powerful fondness for this place. The people are so friendly, the culture at once so foreign and so familiar, the attitude so honest and the weather so nice...I really like it. Manila is a big city, and Rockwell is an upscale enclave in that city that leaves me feeling shut out and isolated in a bubble of all the things about the West that really bug me. Palawan is a stark contrast, a place that is proud of its unique identity and surrounded by tremendous natural beauty. It's (very) rough-hewn, but it is genuine with a big heart, and I can't help but fall for that. I was concerned when we first got here that it might be TOO rough, but my fears proved unfounded. I'll be sad to leave tomorrow.

Philippines Day 4: Puerto Princesa & The Underground River

Whew! What an exhausting day.

Perhaps I should set this up a little. A couple months ago, while we were still in the planning stages of this trip, Rebecca handed me a guide book with a plea to do some research and find something for us to do with our week of exploration in the Philippines. Conscious that we would be with Dana and Marc, I discarded those things that seemed too strenuous, but I still was hoping to find something that would get us exploring the out-of-doors, since we already had the city and beach resort bases covered. On Lonely Planet's list of Top-10 Can't Miss Things to Do, I saw the tours of the longest Underground River in the world, on the registry of World Heritage sites and shortlisted for the New Seven Wonders of the World. "Perfect!" I exclaimed to myself, "All we have to do is sit in a boat. Nothing strenuous about that." Perhaps you can guess where this is going.

We started out bright and early, with the tour van picking us up from the hotel at 7:30 to take us to the river. None of the guidebooks that I saw really spent any effort discussing the trip TO the river from Puerto Princesa. Here's the short version: it's hell in a minivan. The trip is supposed to take a couple hours, on extremely bumpy and swervy roads that are unpaved for long stretches. It took us an hour and a half. The driver was a maniac, going at maniacal speeds around maniacal turns on maniacal roads. It was harrowing. And very uncomfortable.

Arriving at Sabang beach, a beautiful bay of resort-quality beach surrounded by green mountains, we quickly boarded a small banca (boat with outriggers to the side) to cross the bay to the mouth of the underground river. Considering how green around the gills many of us were feeling from the car ride, the boat ride seemed like a lot to undertake, but it really wasn't that bad and only about 15 minutes long.

Arriving at the mouth of the river-cave, we donned life vests and hard hats and piled into small, paddle-powered boats to explore the cave. Marc and I were in front, where he seemed rather nervous about the car battery sitting in an inch of water at our feet (the battery was there to power a hand-held light we used to see where we were going). Heading into the cave, we went about a kilometer in before our guide started talking, pointing out the formations and lore surrounding the rooms we were in (many of them religious - we saw Mary, the Nativity Scene, Jesus' face and the three wise men all formed out of the natural rock). He was funny, with jokes he had clearly honed over many trips up and down the river.

The cave itself was quite remarkable. Carved out of a mountain of marble and limestone, most of the walls were gray with streaks of yellow and brown. There were thousands of bats in the cave with us, most of them nesting on the ceiling but quite a few flying around our heads, and the occasional swallow loudly chirping up and down the cave (they've learned to fly with echolocation, apparently). The cave smelled awful from all the guano, particularly near the entrance - deeper inside it wasn't so bad. In the largest room, which our guide dubbed the "eyeful tower" (so-called because if you look up you get an eyeful of water - or batshit), the ceiling yawned 250 feet over our heads. It was very impressive.

Afterwards, we putted back across the bay to lunch on the beach, a buffet-style affair with a really good coconut soup, pretty good meat and VEGETABLES - string beans, spinach and eggplant - which Rebecca and I piled high on our plates. They weren't actually that great (especially the eggplant), but we didn't care: it was just so nice to get a little balance in our meal.

The ride home was like the ride out, only worse since we were already tired and sea-sprayed with the boat travel under our belts. It felt like forever before we got home, and I for one was fighting nausea much of the time. Dana had a very rough time of the day, despite popping some pain pills, but she tried very hard to maintain a positive outlook throughout. Once we got back to the hotel she brought up the idea of going back to Manila earlier than planned with a disheartening amount of enthusiasm, and elected not to join us for dinner - hopefully she'll feel somewhat better tomorrow morning.

For dinner, we took a trike to Ka Lui, enthusiastically recommended by all the guidebooks. A trike, or tricycle, is Palawan's primary mode of public transportation: it's basically a motorcycle with a metal hood/sidecar on top of it, and up to three people can cram in for short, hair-raising journeys on the chaotic roads. Turns out Ka Lui is less than a mile away, so we just walked back. The restaurant itself was awesome, by far the best food experience we've had yet in the Philippines. Its specialty is seafood, with a very limited menu of whatever's fresh that day. We had a full meal of clam-ginger soup, fresh fruit shakes, giant prawns, seaweed (blech), greenbean-calamari salad, tuna steak, rice, coconut-fish rolls and fresh fruit for dessert for three people for $20. Total. The atmosphere was great, too: an open air bamboo and rattan tiki-style house, with masks from all sorts of cultures lining the walls and a no-shoe policy, there was something in the building that I swore made it smell like apple pie (it wasn't, sadly, actual apple pie). I would strongly recommend this place to anyone coming to Puerto Princesa. We very well might eat there again tomorrow.

After dinner, Rebecca and I wandered around downtown PP a little bit. I regret to say it is not a very pretty town. The streets are dirty, loud and smell of diesel fumes from all the motorcycles, and the shops are haphazard and largely industrial (lots of auto supply and repair). But we were perfectly happy to finally get out, on our feet and on our own, to explore the world around us. We stumbled across a high-school talent show where the audience seemed to be comprised entirely of other students all sitting with their backs to the band performing Dashboard Confessional covers on the stage, preferring to socialize with each other and, in some cases, rehearse their own acts. We think maybe the whole thing was a just a rehearsal.

Tomorrow, the plan is to get up fairly early and take a short guided tour of the city to get our bearings and see if there's anything that we want to explore further. We had contemplated the Honda Bay tour, the other big destination on Palawan, but it sounds like an awful lot of time on a boat, which nobody in our group is really excited about. So we'll play it by ear and go a bit lower-key, hopefully allowing some time to recharge and recover. Maybe there's a nice beach around here we could go sit on...