"If someone embarks on a journey, they can experience quite a lot," as Matthias Claudius knew back in the 18th century. How right he was, as we (Angelica, Daniel, Béatrice, Hans Jörg, Anja, Corinne, Loretta, Martin, Olga, Heinz, Patrik, and I, Eva) soon discovered firsthand. Due to two days of relentless rain in Dubai just before our departure, equivalent to a year's worth of rainfall, we faced a delayed arrival or rather, an unexpected stay in Sharjah (the neighboring emirate of Dubai). Our incomparable tour guide, Olga – who never loses her composure or sense of humor – whisked us away to the Serail (normally one would be abducted from the Serail), but on this journey, everything was a bit different.
Despite the absence of luggage and an alcohol ban, we made the most of these four days. The accommodation – Chedi al Bait – left nothing to be desired, and we broke the alcohol ban twice with duty-free liquor from Zurich (once with gin and tonic, and once with whiskey cola on the two beautiful rooftop terraces). This breach of the law was made possible by the thoughtful planning of the M&Ms. And somewhere in the Suk of Sharjah, an oriental armchair still stands, a dream of Trixi's...
However, this travel hiatus also gave us plenty of time to tackle various IT issues. Corinne's assistance was sought in setting up WhatsApp for Loretta, and eventually, everyone managed to register with the sweat-inducing, utterly ridiculous eGovPH app.
After four days (which were supposed to be spent on Malapascua with the thresher sharks, but literally went down the drain), we finally headed towards Cebu, with our luggage supposed to follow suit. However, that plan only partially materialized. Not accompanying us to Cebu was Tinu, who impulsively booked a return flight home via Vienna and Geneva from Dubai. This brings me to a little luggage story: something mysterious happened to two Ortlieb brand bags in YB colors, yellow and black. It's no secret that they decided to hide out at Victoria's Secret in Dubai, traveling to Cebu without their owner, sort of like stowaways. In short: Tinu in Switzerland, his luggage in Cebu, all of us in Cebu, and our luggage still partly in Dubai.
At the airport in Cebu, "Sir Rolf" joined us, taking charge of the upcoming island-hopping as our "dive trip leader." After several "Aperölis" at the hotel bar, a fine dinner, and a relaxing night, we all continued by bus to the ferry station in the southern part of Cebu. From there, we ferried over to Negros and after another bus ride, reached our final destination: Vida Homes in Dauin, where we were warmly welcomed. The next day, the "lost son" Tinu returned, bringing along the rest of the luggage.
Following were relaxing dives of a unique kind: the so-called Muck Diving. Essentially, it involves searching for specific creatures in the "muck" or dark sand. An outsider would burst into laughter. Just a little distance away, observing the divers lying in the mud with their cameras and gigantic video cameras, capturing microscopic creatures, is enough to amuse. (Hans Jörg, we're all eagerly awaiting your film!). Similarly, Loretta must have had a similar experience when she wondered why some were wildly photographing a silly sponge. She only spotted the Froggie in the picture after the dive, even though it was actually quite large.
The age-acquired farsightedness (referring to eye refractive error) and the consequent difficulty in visually focusing on 3mm shrimps, 5mm froggies, and 6mm snails is present in most of us, which is not surprising given the average age of 63.9 among our 12-member diving group. Heinz is the major exception here, having cheated by getting his farsightedness lasered away. In many other respects, he is a role model for all of us, despite being a stubborn old goat (quoting Olga – she's allowed to say that) and disliking onions. In any case, we greatly benefited from the exceptional service of the Sea Explorer team during boarding and disembarking. Additional luxuries like the wonderfully warm showers after diving, small gestures like removing our fins (for the princesses and Cinderellas), adorned our lives onboard. The crew even installed an additional ladder overnight in Siquijor, making boarding and disembarking easier. A true blessing! Congratulations! Thank you very much!
In between, we also had a few minor setbacks: Hans Jörg came down with a fever, which spoiled two days for him; Heinz had a cold, depriving him of the first day of diving, and some other minor injuries, like the bruised inner arms of Trixi (she adamantly claimed Hans Jörg had nothing to do with it). I (Eva) had an encounter with the stinging grass of the Philippines. But we all made it back home in one piece – that's the main thing.
Our next stop was Siquijor. On the way, we still had two beautiful dive sites waiting for us at Apo Island. Although Apo was once a pirate island, we felt safe thanks to the presence of our fencing world champion, Anja (along with her fencing buddy, Corinne). However, the women selling their wares still managed to hijack our boat and delight us with T-shirts and other clothing items.
In Siquijor, the reception was once again very warm. The first dinner was idyllically taken on the beach. Simply heavenly. The significant decrease in the shrimp population during our stay can be attributed to Dänu. He's a man of extremes (leading with 35 dives on this trip), accompanied by Ange, who follows him everywhere and even survives spitting cobras (not in the Philippines, thankfully). However, he once skipped a night dive to enjoy the sunset with his Ange, and right then, the M&Ms encountered a beautiful blue-ringed octopus. Tough luck, Dänu... As a consolation prize, maybe a air-integrated dive computer for his birthday on June 13th (hot tip for Ange).
The dive sites in Siquijor were teeming with vibrant, stunning, and pristine coral reefs. But as they say, all good things must come to an end. So, after four days of exploration, we sailed back to Dauin via Apo Island for one final round of muck diving. By the way, there's one thing you definitely don't photograph (a big no-no for Olga): nudibranchs and all types of sea cucumbers (yuck).
On our last day without diving, our vigilant and competent tour guide, Sir Rolf (although sometimes a bit clueless – quoting Olga – she's allowed to say that), treated us to a trip to the Twin Lakes, featuring a sweat-inducing ascent and descent, and blaring alarm systems in the jungle amidst breathtaking views. Before that, we enjoyed a fine lunch with legendary cackling at a Filipino chicken joint. The journey there and back was equally impressive, with the typical colorful chaos of the area and the electrical tapestries of Filipino electricians.
On the final evening, we celebrated a milestone: Corinne's 700th dive, and she treated us all to drinks at the dive bar. "Sir Chris" even roasted a suckling pig for us as a farewell feast (a delicacy in the Philippines = Lechon). Delicious!
We also had our little secrets – the "Insiders." And as the name suggests, only the initiated know what it's all about, and no one else. Mine were "Chäferfüdletroche" and "Gorillas in the Mist." The "Insiders" will remember.
In conclusion, I'd like to end with a quote from Goethe: "One does not travel to arrive, but to travel."
Here's to the next adventures. It was wonderful. Many thanks to our super Olga and all fellow travelers for the beautiful shared experiences.
May 13, 2024 / Eva M
