14 February 2007

Puerto Galera, Philippines

We boated up to Big Apple and immediately wanted to leave. The Lonely Planet for the Philippines ranks rampant old white guys with teenage Philippinas as number one under "Dangers and Annoyances."

But this was another story. Apparently we were staying in a brothel. Thanks, Lonely Planet.

We didn't get any sleep the first night and transferred to the two-doors-down Captain Gregg's the next morning (Pineapple pancakes! Jamaican toast! Starbucks coffee!), where we also signed up for dive lessons (me: Open Water, him: Rescue Diving). He headed out for a dive the first day while I outlined, self-assessed, and quizzed my way through the Open Water certification book.

We swam out to a bar in the middle of the water in the bay. The bartender and lone white male client looked at us like we were mental because everyone else takes the shuttle boat. The pina colada and mai tai were only okay.

This place is crawling with girls of all ages offering themselves. From a selfish point of view (mine), they're nicer than Chinese girls, who just ignore me and go for the bait (the boyfriend). This is a huge step up from the Russian girls from the Trans-Siberian route this past summer: they were so aggressive that they simultaneously pissed me off and made me feel really sorry for them.

My chicken sandwich is here-

betholindo at 11:27

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