Goodbye snow, as off to Heathrow we go ...

And so it is that time of year again, although I admit slightly later than my usual time, to write my travel blog. So much so, that I've actually had to experience this thing called 'snow' that we have over here in the UK!

Firstly I must apologise for not finishing last years blog in the Philippines. My reason is quite valid: I was utterly and completely knackered! Never in my last 6 years of touring have I experienced such pain and exhaustion! Don't get me wrong, it was thoroughly worth it but by the end of each day I could just about lift my arms to sip a cup of tea let alone type my blog. Profuse apologies and I hope to make it up to you this year.

2016 was quite a milestone year, least of all because I turned ... 50! And rather than shy away from the fact that I had turned a half a century, I decided to celebrate in style with a 'Fifty Shades of Ginger' party. And boy did we celebrate! Friends and family came from near and far, all in various 'ginger-guises' from Scotsmen in kilts, to Vikings with spangenhelms (yes I did have to look that up), there were giant Irish leprechauns, a Ginger- Ninja, Fiona the Ogre princess, Ariel the mermaid and more besides.

The rest of the year whizzed by: we Brexited, Andy Murray won Wimbledon and my South London Geezer became a North London Chappie! (Though he's still embarrassed to admit that he has moved to the finer side of our capital city).

New Year came and went as TC and I prepared for our annual Winter Adventure. For those of you new to my blog, I should explain that my little irrepressible buddy likes to remain anonymous for reasons known only to herself. And so it was decided (by me) that she would here by be known as my 'Travel Companion' or TC for short.

As per usual she has promised me that she will not be as neurotic or OCD as she usually is and I have promised not to be so irritable and exasperated with her as I usually am. But those of you who have followed my blog over the last six years will know how that is going to pan out!?

And where are we off to this year? I hear you ask. Well it's back to South East Asia and to a country we have both been wanting to visit for a long time now .... the wondrous Myanmar (formerly known as Burma). 

Having both agreed that last years trip was wondrous but too challenging for our ageing bodies, we wanted to try for one which involved less climbing of volcanoes and mountains and with slightly more luxurious hotels. Yes SAGA did cross our minds - very quickly - as we are now in that age bracket (with ten more years to our free bus passes) but we settled on a well known company called Exodus.

And so with my bags finally packed and my boarding pass printed out, I will bid you all goodnight, for in less than five hours time, this little Ginger will be on her way to the road to Mandalay. See you all in Yangon ...

Third and final day ... Wrecked from the trek!

So I spent most of last night lying in my bed, wide awake listening to the rain outside. I usually find this sound quite soothing, the gentle pitter patter of raindrops falling on the roof and puddles outside. But this time was different, for two very good reasons:

(1) It kept making me want to go and empty my bladder! But the thought of the excruciating pain that would be inflicted upon my knackered out legs, just to walk the few metres to the stairs and then down them to the extremely low toilet seat, over which my busted old thigh muscles would have to support me in a squat position whilst trying to keep me balanced as I held my pyjama trousers out of the 'line of fire', well it wasn't appealing. 

(2) My mind was working over time with images of us all trekking the last bit of the rice terraces, all uphill and me losing my footing on the wet mud beneath, causing me to tumble off the side of the hills in my bright pink poncho, with arms spread wide hoping the wind would catch under the plastic material and causing me to fly upwards towards the peak of the hilltop, therefore looking like a bright pink flying bat, instead of me tumbling to my death below! (And people say I'm a bit of a drama queen?!?)

With only about two hours sleep, we were up at 7, breakfasted and with my knees strapped up and bamboo walking stick at the ready we were on our way out for the forty five minute trek back to Banuae - all up hill!

Yes, we did stop off to look at the stunning vista around us, at the most perfect viewing point, (and for me to catch my breath!) ... 

... but by now I was getting 'rice terraced out' and just the thought of having a decent shower at the end of our trek and the clean clothes waiting for me in my back pack, was about all that was keeping me going! Well that and the fact that I had Abi (one of us Brits) to chat to. We were the slow coaches for the day and proud of it!

We made it to Sadel! And in under 45 mins! And probably a stone lighter after the amount of sweat gushing out of every pore in my body. With the dulcet tones of TC telling me to make sure I drink and stay re-hydrated we climbed onto our awaiting Jeepney and headed back for an hours bumpy ride to The Greenview Lodge in Banaue. 

Thank goodness all our rooms were ready for when we arrived. Grabbing our belongings, practically vaulting down the stairs to our respective rooms, like a herd of happy elephants we were off to have a decent shower (and toilet break!!) 

Once fully refreshed and no longer smelling like a Durian fruit! I texted 'the south London Geezer' to let him know I was still alive if not feeling slightly worse for wear! He seemed relieved! Then we all gathered together and headed off to look around Hiwang Village, (more steps!) to take a gander over at some more rice terraces and the Cordillera mountains. We visited some traditional Ifuago houses: tiny little properties built high up on stilts with no nails, no glue or cement used and not much room for living space for whole families (remember contraception is not allowed).

Finally it was lunchtime and the Jeepney took us back to the hotel where in our infinite wisdom we all decided to walk around the corner to the restaurant that Bryan had suggested. I don't know who's bloody idea that was, but as soon as we rounded the corner, we saw the steps, about 50 or maybe more leading up to it! The name of the establishment was '7th Heaven' but for me it was more like approaching hell! 

Luckily my food was really good so the pain of dragging myself up those steps soon disappeared, (like child birth I guess!?!) and with an afternoon of free time I was ready to just go back to the hotel, sit out in the sunshine and write my blog ... Or so I thought ...

Thankfully the walk back was down hill, the sun was shining, my belly was full and I was in a good mood, as per usual I was at the back of the group ... Way behind most of the others, chatting with the two Jos when we noticed Tracy up ahead gesticulating at us, it looked like she was telling us to stop, or turn around, or go away or something. She had a panicked expression on her face, but we couldn't quite make out what was going on? Then I heard it, as did Jo and Jo, the most horrendous squealing sound and then we saw, by the side of the road, two local men were trying to truss up a massive pig to take it off to be slaughtered. The pig was twisting and turning, desperate to get away and squealing and crying out for its life! I have never heard such a horrendous or pitiful sound. One I still can't get out of my head.

Once it had registered with the three of us what was happening, (the two veggies and me the relapsed Jew who's never eaten a pork product in her life anyway), we managed an about turn and with my fingers stuck deep into my ears, whilst trying to hum some nonsensical tune out loud (well I am a member or Rock Choir), in a panicked state, we ran all the way back up the hill - it's amazing how the pain had just evaporated from my legs, but I guess that's adrenalin for you?

Finally out of ear shot, we decided to join Abi back in the restaurant, where she was sat out on the balcony, enjoying the scenery and peacefulness whilst reading and having a beer. Then we burst onto the scene completely flustered and ruined it all for her! (I admit I even snuck off to the loo for a little cry).

One beer later (and maybe a crafty little cigarette to calm the nerves), we returned to our hotel. Where we all chilled out in the communal area, recovering from our three day trek and preparing for what the rest of the week had in store ...

Almost there!

'Do you know that saying "today is the first day of the rest of your life"? Well, today feels like it could be the last day of the rest my life!! I have never felt so much pain in my lower extremities! The soothing effects of yesterday's  massage has well worn off! I'm surprised I've even managed to make it out of bed. My legs feel like they're made of wood: In fact I feel like I'm turning into Pinocchio! And this is why I have always gone by the theory that exercise is actually bad for you!

This morning we were up at 7:30. "Ironman" had to be our alarm call, with a subtle knock on the door and a "Come on girls it's breakfast!!!', seeing as both TC and I and even the two Jos, (who's room was next to ours), had not bought our phones and therefore our alarm clocks with us. It seems we were all fearful that we would end up deep in one of the rice terraces and desperate not to destroy any of our forms of communication back home to our loved ones to let them know we had survived!

After I managed to struggle into my clothes, force my swollen knees into my bright blue elasticated knee supports, my swollen feet into my filthy walking shoes and my now extremely frizzy hair into a scrunchie. I managed to crawl out to the breakfast area where the only other person suffering appeared to be Jo M who's knees were also playing up! TC managed to make it for breakfast - just - her stomach was playing up - again! (She's too obsessed with cleanliness and as I've told her on numerous occasions, she needs to eat a bit of dirt every now and again to build up her immune system, obviously she was apalled by that comment?!) She kept mumbling under her breath about the state of the toilet,  mind you you can't blame her when you see what we had to use.

(The above photo was courtesy of Jon, the American guy on our tour, he seemed so impressed by the toilet facilities he put a pic up on Facebook!)

Oh and you may notice a tiny little drain at the bottom of the picture? That is because next to the red bucket is another large bucket with another scoop in it and that is the shower!!

So finally we were off for a 20 minute walk or in my case crawl, around the tiny local town. Johnson showed us around the school, we even went to see one of the classrooms where the children were learning English.

Notice the positive affirmations and lessons in kindness and generosity that cover the walls. This is instilled in every child from a very young age. Maybe contributes to why Filipinos generally are a very kind and considerate people.

Finally we loaded up our day packs and set off for another trek through the rice terraces towards Batad. As we were leaving, a group of young women from the village were queueing up offering to give us all massages again at the end of the day. I felt there was some benefit from my previous massage so I said yes to one of the women, then I asked for her name. "Merlin" she said. I smiled to myself, with the thought that with a name like that the massage had to be magical and that was to be the incentive I needed to keep me going through my trek today. 

Three hours! Yes three hours of trekking ahead of us - well I should say me, as i tended to be further back than most. And yet again my legs were killing me, my heart was pounding and the sun beat down on us. Luckily "Ironman" offered to carry my daypack for me, I reluctantly excepted having to admit that I was weak and pathetic!! But what a huge difference it made, without the 15ltrs on my back  I could finally manage to lift my knees about 2 inches higher than I could the day before! If it wasn't for the pain I would've skipped along!! Besides which, I was being entertained by TC's conversation with "Ironman" just behind me: she was trying to teach him British English slang words. For example she was explaining to him that the term for a nasty, rough man was an "Oink". I had to tell her that that was the sound a pig made, and the word she was looking for was "Oik" as I would have hated our Antipodean buddies to have got their words the wrong way round! Mind you this is a nation that refers to us redheads as "Bluey", so go figure?!

And so after three hours of traumatic manoeuvres and with a little (OK a lot) of support from my bamboo stick and Rosalyn - one of the Kiwis on our tour who was kind and patient enough to lag behind with me and help me on some of the steeper steps - I finally made it to the guest house in Batad!! 

The speciality of Batad are the rice terraces that surround it, they are compared to that of an amphitheatre in the centre of which the village can be found. 

Also found here is The Tappia waterfall, which is 40m (131ft) high and just as deep. Supposedly stunning to see, but when we were told we had the afternoon off and an option to go and visit this waterfall, which would be many steep steps down and as we know what goes down must come up, I opted out, feeling I deserved a well earned relaxing, quiet afternoon.

And so after lunch - vegetarian style with the chicken bits - it was massage time! Even TC was going to have one today, which I was quite surprised about considering that (A) she generally doesn't like being covered in oil and (B) she had already passed comment to me about not liking her bed as she felt she had already felt somebody else's dead flesh on it!!

Suffice it to say we both retired to our room with Merlin and friend in tow and TC and I laid down on our respective beds in anticipation of our relaxing massages.

I should have guessed that mine was not going to be the same kind of massage as the one I had received from Ophelia the day before, when Merlin pulled out a jar of talcum powder as opposed to massage oil. I lay face down on my bed and she poured on the talc then started on the soles of my feet, working up my legs, pressing with the tip of every finger and each elbow deep into the pressure points along my already tortured legs! It was hardly relaxing, it was hardly agony-free, and I was being very British by trying not to complain. I sucked in deeply with each shot of pain and told myself that this was good, that this was the best way to release the tension from the muscles in my battered body. And then to make matters worse, the overindulgence of vegetables that week started to take effect. I couldn't help it! Ingested vegetables create gas in the gut and when you are lying face down on your stomach and someone else is using all their force to press hard into every pressure point in your lower back sometimes a little bit of aforementioned gas is released! I was highly embarrassed, obviously, but Merlin seem to take it in her stride and carried on with the massage. I told myself this was okay. We are in Asia. This is natural. (Particularly as some of you may remember, after my experience in India four years ago). And then my thoughts were all confirmed, after Merlin seemed to have a similar problem to mine later on in the session!?

The massage lasted an hour, the pain lasted slightly longer, but I have to admit my legs did feel slightly lighter. And it was easier for me to walk down the steps to the scoop shower room afterwards. I paid my extra 50 pesos for hot water and treated myself to a hair wash. This involved me getting on the floor onto my swollen knees and having to literally stick my head in the bucket as I knew there wouldn't be enough hot water if I poured it over my head.

The rest of the afternoon was fun, TC and I spent it playing a card game called 'Uno' with the other Brits and Tracy the Aussie whilst the others were at the waterfall. I'm not saying the friendly game got competitive, but suffice it to say, it's a good job there wasn't any sharp objects lying close by! 

Eventually the rest of the group returned and confirmed for us that the steps taken to and from the waterfall were in fact pretty steep and difficult. Maybe they just said that to make us feel better, but either way, I felt better about the decision I made and was quite happy to just admire the waterfall from their photographs.

Dinner was almost ready and TC stood up and announced to us that she was going to the toilet but didn't have any spare tissues on her. 'Ironman' reached into his pocket and pulled out a half used toilet roll and handed it to her. I turned to Jo M sat next to me and told her to watch TC, I predicted that she would have to remove the outside sheets of paper from the roll before she would use any of it. Jo M looked at me quizzically and I explained that as the outside sheets had touched the inside of Damien's pockets, TC would be fearful of germs, seeing as they weren't her own pockets.

And sure enough Jo M watched in amazement as bang on cue, TC quickly unwrapped the outside sheets and handed them back to Damien!

Dinner was delicious! I had ordered ... Egg and chips!! (Sorry to be a cliche) but I felt justified after all the exercising I was doing! And boy did they taste good! Then TC held court amongst most of the group in order for them to help her compose an email to her ex-boyfriend after finally realising that he wasn't actually that nice to her and split up with a couple of days before the trip, yet he was still pestering her with upsetting messages. 

Everyone was pleased to help, she was pleased of the input from everyone. And I found it all quite amusing considering a few days before she had told me that she is actually quite quiet and not very sociable and hates to be the centre of attention!

And so, after TC's love life was finally sorted out we all set off for bed, tomorrow was the final part of the trek, only 45 minutes - allegedly - but all UPHILL!! Thank goodness our bedroom was on the same floor as the dining area; no steps for me to crawl up tonight ...

Rice Terraces and ruined muscles!

Day two of 'The big trek' and my heart was already pounding with the thought of it all; apparently some of the rice terrace walls we were to be walking along separating each of the rice terraces, are only just about a foot wide! On one side of them is the rice terrace - a deep pool of water - and on the other side is a deep, steep, long drop to the next level of rice terraces - if you're lucky!

The rice terraces were dug into the land over two thousand years ago using only basic, primitive tools, by the Ifuago tribe people who would refer to them as 'The stairway to heaven'. 

Listed by UNESCO World Heritage, they are under threat of destruction, due to natural erosion and imperfect irrigation systems and I have to say, having survived the arduous trek, they are definitely a sight to be seen - close up - if you dare!

Walking along the rice terraces has certainly been one of the most physically challenging things I have done, having a good balance helps - or an excellent bamboo cane! And walking up hill in the heat really doesn't help, especially with a small back pack strapped firmly to your body as well t kind of throws the balance out even more - and helps insulate more heat! I reckon I sweated off at least half a stone in those three hours alone! And my face was probably as red as my hair!  My heart was in my mouth for most of the trek, I was concentrating so much on trying not to fall in, that I couldn't keep stopping to take pictures. But suffice it to say, the exhilaration I felt at the end was indescribable.

I think it took us approximately three and a half hours plus a lunch break, to trek from Kinakin to our guesthouse in Cambulo, by which time my calves were tight and in complete agony, my quadriceps where screaming at being awoken from a long sleep of about twenty years, my knees were aching, my feet were still swollen, my blisters had blisters and I was losing a toe nail! But hey, I didn't fall into any of the rice terraces. Yes, I had slipped over once in the mud, but managed to bounce back up, (literally off my voluptuous back side) and I was in complete awe of the stunning sites before me! I am so pleased I did it!

On reaching the Guesthouse, we were all allocated our rooms, TC and I were on the bloody third floor! More steps - my knees were hating me! And not only that but there were only two bathrooms for us all to share (one had a cold scoop shower, though hot water was available on request for an extra 50 pesos and the kettle would be boiled).  And these were back down on the first floor! My legs were in so much pain it was taking me twice as long as usual to climb a couple of flights of stairs and then I had to use both the bannister and wall for support! 

But it wasn't time to sit back and relax yet, we still had a local waterfall to go visit and the option to go for a swim in the water. I was under the impression that it was a short walk through the tiny village to reach it and once there we could lay out our towels and just relax on the waters edge in the dwindling sunlight. Well it couldn't be further from my fantasy, there was an approximate ten minute walk through the village, part of which was through the school playground, then another load of steps down to the fountain found in the middle of all the flora and fauna with no waters edge, just huge rocks to scramble over and balance precariously on whilst admiring the view. And obviously in order to balance precariously on aforementioned huge rocks, one must engage a load of muscle groups and my muscle groups were screaming to be left alone and allowed to go back to sleep!

Luckily, there were massages on offer back at the Guest House, and as a lot of you already know, my experiences of massages over in Asia have not exactly been without pain, contortion (literally) or in any shape relaxing, but I was desperate!

Meanwhile TC was more concerned about the fact that there was only a thin blanket on the bed. She hadn't brought her sleeping sheet and was therefore concerned that there could be a chance she may catch something from the bed Linen! I didn't quite get an explanation as to what, but knowing her it was probably on the lines of leprosy?! Even so, she managed to pass out quite quickly on her bed whilst my masseuse (Ophelia) gave me a fantastic, relaxing and therapeutic massage. One which didn't  didn't involve any digging of fingers, elbows or knees into my flesh, nor twisting my body into shapes no human should be forced into unless they are planning on joining the circus!

Dinner was welcomed by one and all that evening, as thanks to Bryan and our two local guides: J.R. and Johnson, we had all survived and were starving! I sat and chatted for a while with Karen - another of the Aussies in our group. Turns out she is a nurse and even though she works with diabetes sufferers, I thought it best to hold back on letting TC know that we had a 'medic' amongst us! (That was for Karen's benefit of course!) 

After our lovely veggie meal, (the vegetable soup,had chicken in it and we kept being told, "it's ok, no meat, no meat". I'm not sure that The Filipinos have quite grasped the concept of 'vegetarianism' just yet), I dragged myself upstairs to the bedroom, rubbed some Ibuleve gel into my legs, hobbled all the way back downstairs to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, then crawled all the way back up the stairs and went to sleep. Though still feeling nervous about the next part of the trek the following day and what it had in store for us - even though we had been assured that we had completed the hardest part of the trail!?

And the trekking begins ...

And so it is Wednseday morning in Banaue, (pronounced Bana-wee).

Banaue is a small town in the province of Ifuago and it is here where the renowned and stunning rice terraces can be found, (sometimes referred to as 'the eighth wonder of the world'). Banaue is only 300km (approx 186 miles) north of Manila and a mere 1300km (approx 808 miles) above sea level!! And the best place to view this wonder is from a look out point at the top! 

I was beginning to approach these next few days with trepidation, you see the most walking I do at home is from the front door to the car and as for heights, well I can't even jump of a diving board anymore! But, as I said in my first post, this year was going to be a year of challenges. So here goes ...

We were up at 8:30 on a sleeping pill filled night, (and don't forget sheets that apparently smell of feet?!). Then it was a quick breakfast with the group before leaving at 9am prompt ... Well that was the theory anyway ...

Maybe we should briefly go back to the night before? When both TC and I had spent about an hour packing our day packs for the three day trek ahead of us. I had carefully rolled the essential clothes needed and double bagged all my valuables under the theory that I was probably going to end up doing a back flip into at least one of the rice terraces. While TC did her usual packing and re-packing and more re-packing and packing and huffing and puffing and puffing and huffing over not being able to squeeze her belongings, including her various lotions and potions for each section of her face and body, into her tiny 15 litre bag.

But we were organised ... Or were we?

And so, returning to the morning of the following day; we had had our early breakfast and were about to head off for a quick tour around the town before climbing onto the awaiting mini bus, when TC suddenly realised that she couldn't find her purse! Her purse containing all her money and credit cards! Panic immediately set in. She was quite definite that it was not in her day pack, she had searched it! It wasn't in her large wheelie suitcase, (she can't move with a large ruck sack strapped to her back), it wasn't in her tiny back pack - that she usually keeps inside her day pack?! And it wasn't in any of her pockets! She had had it with her at breakfast and it had just disappeared?!?! 

Immediately the whole group were up and in search of 'the purse'; we turned our bedroom upside down, it wasn't there, we searched around the restaurant, it wasn't there, Damian (Ironman) hoiked up her wheelie suitcase, placed it at my feet and instructed me on where to run my hands along and what to pull out, whilst trying to avert his eyes in order to protect TC's modesty! Both Jo F and I looked through her day pack - twice, thoroughly, honest! But it couldn't be found. The hotel even ran the CCTV footage of the dining room for TC and Bryan to scour through - it was just like an episode of CSI?! Then Tracey (one of The Aussies) calmly walked over to Jo F and I and suggested that we 'calmly' empty the day pack out and feel right down deep inside the pockets ... We did and there it was! Halley-bloody-luyah!! Rammed right down into the depths of the front pocket where TC then remembered she had shoved it for safe keeping!

After a collective sigh of relief and me throwing my little travel buddie a roll of the eyes and knowing look, a rather sheepish TC apologised to everyone, thanked them profusely and with her tail firmly tucked between her legs she joined us on our intro to the town of Banaue, with Bryan, our tour leader, still smiling but probably thinking "And it's only day one!"

The town itself is not that big, in fact it's tiny. There is a market place in the centre, with a few shops, a town hall and guest houses surrounding it. Oh and I vaguely remember seeing a fire truck but sadly no fire men!

First challenge: crossing the bridge to the mini bus waiting beyond ... Tick! 

Finally we were on the bus, with our day packs fully loaded and our main luggage left behind at The Greenview Lodge for us to collect in a couple of days. And we set off on our drive to Cambulo.

Now those of you that have followed my travels on previous posts will know that it is on the long transfers that my petite travel companion and I pass the time watching a TV drama that I've downloaded onto my tablet. This year it is 'River' and as we hadn't managed to start to watch it on the journey out to Banaue, the two of us settled in our seats and I plugged in the earphones and switched on the iPad. So I'm sure you can imagine the distress we felt when I realised that I'd made the dreadful mistake of not knowing that all six episodes had been downloaded straight to 'the cloud' and therefore we were unable to watch it until reaching a suitable wifi spot! And that wasn't going to be for days!! Having to deal with that and the whole 'purse-gate' saga was really starting to try our friendship!

But after about forty minutes we reached the starting point of our three day trek. First part was heading upwards through the rice terraces for a Guesthouse in Cambulo, this was only going to take us ... Three hours!

Leaving Manila ...

This morning the alarm went off at 5:40! TC sloped off to the bathroom whilst I tried to massage my swollen feet! My ankles had certainly turned to 'cankles' and the lower half of my legs were starting to resemble small tree trunks!

We met up with the group at 6:30 and dragged our jet lagged bodies onto the private mini van - I'm still trying to remember everyone's names! The night before at 'The welcome meeting', each one of us had been given a small straw bag in which could be found a packet of dried mango and a bottle of rum? Both TC and I had decided that as neither of us were big rum drinkers, we may as well leave the bottles behind, rather than cart them around with us. So it was quite interesting this morning, when we were all about to crawl on the bus, that one of the security guards came running towards us holding out TC's walking shoes that he'd found in the room, but somehow he didn't seem to have found the two bottles of rum?

First stop and I clambered off the bus with the majority of my fellow travellers, I was unaware of what we were stopping to see as I was still half asleep and by the time I realised, it was too late! You see I consider myself a 'Pesci-chickenetarian' (I don't eat any meat apart from chicken and fish) and as my eyes started to focus on the sight before me, I was horrified to see rows and rows of suckling pigs roasting away - apparently Filipinos are mad about pork and will eat it with anything they possibly can! I didn't know where to turn, cause there were pigs being spit roasted wherever I looked and then I realised that the three vegetarians on the trip were still all sat on the bus with their backs to the Windows! 

I quickly turned and ran from the shack like building we were stood in and hurried onto the bus, telling myself it wasn't real?! But a few minutes later when the rest of our group climbed back on board, the stench that followed them proved otherwise.

A quick spray of perfume in the crook of my arm and my nose stuck firmly in there for the next few minutes and thoughts of Julie Andrews singing 'The Hills are alive with the Sound of Music' (I don't know why, it was the first song that came into my head!) and I started to feel better.

(Sorry that's the best I could do, you get the picture of the signage, you can image the rest!)

And so back to the mini bus ride, where our tour leader Bryan gave us a little back story: Manila is named Manila due to the type of vegetation you can find there - Nila! And 'Ma' means 'there' so 'Manila' literally translated means 'There Nila'! Manila itself is divided into a couple of areas, the main one being 'Metro Manila' which is where we were staying, with 1.2 million people living there - and as I mentioned before, most of them seeming to be driving on the road! Manila itself is on the largest island of this arcepelago and the largest diaspora of Filipinos is actually not in the UK, nor in the USA but in Saudi Arabia! 

There are more than eighty languages spoken here, the main two being Filipino and English - strange considering the Spanish ruled here for 300 years?! However, what does still stand since the Spanish arrived is the Catholic religion and over here neither divorce or birth control is allowed - at all! Therefore the population is rapidly growing, with many families living in poverty.

I'm sure there was more info Bryan gave us, but I was so exhausted I fell asleep and woke up in time for our first 'Comfort Room' stop - TC and I had wondered why whilst waiting for our room to be prepared on our arrival when TC asked for the toilet? ... The rest room? ... The bathroom? ... The loo?The woman behind the reception desk didn't know what she was talking about. Over here it is called 'the comfort room' and at some of the stops its 5 pesos for an 'Ihi' or 10 pesos for a 'dumi'! (I'll leave it up to you to work out what that means) suffice it to say I obviously had to ask Bryan if they went by weight or fluid ounce too - apparently not!

Further down the road we stopped off to visit a church that had been affected by the sudden Mount Pinatubo eruption in the 1990's. As you can imagine there were many sad yet uplifting stories to be told by the survivors of the natural disaster and the church was one of them.

Above you can see my photo of how the church stands now, it looks perfectly normal doesn't it? 

Yet if you look at the painting of the church before the eruption, you can see that now there is actually a whole floor missing!

Lunch and dinner was a similar situation to that we experienced in Indonesia last year; if one wants anything vegetarian, one must ask for the vegetarian dish without the meat!!

We finally arrived at our hotel in Banae, TC checked the room and complained about the lack of water flowing from the shower. For once I had to agree with her complaint and we were swiftly moved from a large room with three double beds and ensuite bathroom, into a large room with four single beds and a bathroom off the balcony with all the comforts of a scoop flush toilet and shower pretty much over that!

TC wanted to complain that the sheets smelt of feet, but then I did warn her she'll probably be begging to get back to it over the next few days when we will be staying in guest houses where the rooms will be worse and the two bathrooms we will all be sharing with the rest of the group, will consist of Asian style scoop toilets as well as cold scoop showers! So she needed to appreciate the luxury we had!

The complaining stopped and we settled down for the night, both a bit nervous about what was to be in store for us over the next three days of trekking through the rice fields found high up on the hills sides.

I was thinking that maybe I should prepare Damien the Aussie school teacher on our tour that he could possibly be carrying me most of the way, after all he competes in triathlons and Iron Man Australia so how hard would it be to carry a pathetic, overheated red head up a hillside? I mean I don't think that I'm being unreasonable?

It's one day in ...

Praise be to the sleeping pill! One little tablet and I managed to sleep through the jet lag from 9pm until 7am this morning when TC woke me with her shuffling around the room 'quietly' as she got dressed cause she was starving and needed food!

After managing to eat breakfast in 31 degrees of heat, TC and I set off for a days excursion in Manila. I had learnt my lesson from last year when my heat swollen feet got ripped to shreds by my flip flops.  So I had brought myself a pair of walking sandals instead - obviously they were raspberry pink! And to my surprise TC had brought the same, so they have now been re-named 'The Raspberries'! And suffice it to say, as I lie here on my bed after our day out in this busy polluted city, I am staring down at my swollen feet now suffering from 'Raspberry Blisters'! And feeling very sorry for myself!

We left the hotel around midday and headed straight for The Intramuros (NOT the intramural or Intravenous as I kept calling it?!)

Just south of The Intramuros is Rizal Park, which involves a beautiful walk through greenery and various statues scattered around. We were quite surprised to find that we had to pay a very small entrance fee to go into the park, but paid our dues without question only to find once past the gate that we had in fact paid to go into the children's play ground! And so after admiring the various themed slides, swings and climbing frames, we hurried back out and headed through the park and over to The National Museum of The Philippines, only to find that it and ALL the museums are closed on a Monday!! (This was turning into 'one of those days' again!!).

And so we continued to head on up towards The Intramuros, where surely there would be plenty to see.

The Intramuros is the walled area in the heart of the city built in the 1570's by the Spanish. Basically it is a walled city within the city. Inside of which can be found: St Agustin church, with its Baroque decor and troupe l'oeil murals and what seemed to be a mass wedding going on! 

It was built between 1586 and 1606 and is the oldest stone church in The Philippines. It is pretty stunning inside, though I felt a bit conspicuous walking through in my three quarter length jeans and t shirt amongst the many women in their bright pink, or turquoise wedding style dresses. (Don't worry 'south London Geezer' I wasn't getting any ideas!) 

Inside the walled city you can also find the 'Casa Manila': absolutely stunning replica of an 1850s mansion. The courtyard was being set up for the aforementioned wedding so TC and I just snuck around the hustle and bustle to look around the outside of the buildings, which was in fact four houses built together. We didn't manage to go inside to see what I can only imagine is stunning decor, nor did we see the 'double latrine' built for the husband and wife to gossip away from their servants whilst at the same time going about their 'daily business'?!?

Other famous structures found within the old walls is: Fort Santiago, in which can be found The Rizal Shrine and then there is The Manila Cathedral which has been destroyed and rebuilt numerous times since it was originally built in 1581.

TC and I were taken around these famous landmarks within the walled city by a friendly Tuk Tuk driver called Rico. He showed us his official tour guide ID and told us that the tour takes 30 mins at 300 pesos. We thought that was a bargain. That was until at the end of the tour when he dropped us outside The Manila Hotel and proceeded to charge us 1200 pesos each claiming we had been with him for two hours and it was actually 300 pesos per person per half hour!! I was impressed with TC, she didn't do her Banshee rage thing like she had done so many times in India, instead, every time Rico spoke she just told him to 'shush' until he agreed, that we had been with him for under an hour and would pay him accordingly!

We hurried off the Tuk Tuk and headed inside The Manila Hotel, a stunning five star hotel which opened in 1912 for the best of the best in colonial times. Celebrities and politicians alike have stayed here and we were about to see why.

However, we got as far as the luxurious lobby lounge and had to rest our feet, then got drawn into having a cocktail - the height of decadence at 2 in the afternoon. And as I sat there sipping on my chocolate martini whilst my travel companion enjoyed her Mango Daquiri (which she kept insisting on pronouncing Dak-Kirri and couldn't understand why the waitress was having a problem understanding her), I sat back and tried to enjoy the comfort and tranquility around us, cause over the next few days, we will be experiencing quite the opposite - the Asian style loos and cold scoop showers!

A few hours later, having to have had some lunch to soak up the alcohol and managing not to get lost, we made it back to our hotel in time to relax a bit before meeting the group we are going to spend the next ten days with. As per usual I cannot remember everyone's names just yet. But it looks to be a good group consisting of a few of us Brits (all English), a couple of Kiwis, a handful of Aussies and two Americans.

Our tour leader Bryan took us out to a Local restaurant where there was to be some traditional dancing. I wasn't sure that I would stay awake long enough, jet lag was kicking in but I soon woke up when I realised that TC was pointing at me as one of the dancers came over and I was led onto the stage to do a bit of hopping between two moving bamboo canes without getting my ankles snapped! (Yes it was part of the dance). I wouldn't mind but I had my 'Raspberry Blisters' to contend with! 

TC has now been warned that I will be seeking my revenge later in the week.

And so tomorrow the tour officially begins! We are leaving the hotel at 6:30am heading out on a ten hour coach ride to Banaue! (Pronounced Bana-wee).

Those of you that have followed my blog in previous years will know that I generally load my iPad up with a drama series to fill the time on the long coach journeys. This year it is a thriller called 'River', I have been assured by those who saw it back home on TV a few months ago, that it is excellent. Let's hope so!

And so until tomorrow, I shall pop my sleeping pill and bid you all goodnight!