Philippines 1995: Part 16

Note: this trip was made at Christmas 1995. In the time since then I'm sure much has changed so it may not be a great idea to treat this as a guide. Treat it as a memoir, which - give or take some editing - is exactly what it is.

The bar which was also where we were supposed to eat was a little further west than our bijou holiday home. It was a two storey bamboo and wood building with the bar downstairs and the restaurant upstairs. The solitary other drinker in the bar was one of our group who had already started getting loaded, a process he was clearly determined to complete. I joined him in a beer. As we stood chatting about his day - he had not come out to the islands with us - others arrived. Some of them weren't happy with their accommodation. One was particularly unhappy, specifically with the spiders who were sharing it with her. We had already discovered on the trek that she was an arachnophobe. I pointed out that of the very few spiders venomous enough to harm humans none of them live in the Philippines and that very large spiders are almost always pretty harmless. She was having none of it. Back in Cambulo she had refused to wash because there was a perfectly innocuous but quite large spider sitting near the tap.

One by one the others drifted in. It rapidly became obvious that the mood was anything but festive. The group from the East End of the village had had a long dark and wet walk along the beach and no-one seemed happy with their beach-side apartments. My ridiculously good mood which had persisted since Batad had so far shown no sign of dissipating. I didn't care about cramped accommodation and non-existent sanitation and eight legged things crawling around in the night. I didn't care about the fact that today had been only the second completely rain free day of the holiday. When those of us who had arrived went up to the meal I didn't even care that the food took forever to arrive and was cold and unpalatable. Holidays always turn me into Mr. Patience. On the other hand the mood was beginning to infect me, not to make me bothered about any of the things that were bothering the others but to irritate me with the complaining - especially from certain quarters. Every now and then I found myself shaking my head at some remark and, once, I realised that my hands were involuntarily making the sort of motions usually associated with strangling chickens. With a conscious effort I lightened up and allowed myself to see the funny side. The remaining members of the group finally arrived adding little to the good cheer but my moment of annoyance had passed and I was back to feeling happy.
For over an hour food arrived in bits and pieces, a small salad here, a seafood chop suey there, a bit of roast fish, a bit more salad. When it had all come and been consumed without enthusiasm we all went wandering down the beach to the East End where the majority of the group were billeted, at Mary's Cottages. Here in a sort of beach-side veranda we broke open the booze and started to get drunk. Down on the beach another group of tourists had a bonfire going and as midnight approached we went to join them. In addition to the booze we had bought some fireworks but they proved to be a serious disappointment, a couple of half hearted sparks and splutters and nothing else.
Nevertheless my good mood had returned and I found that in spite of the chaotic end to the old year, I felt rather optimistic about the new one.