Have you left a message on the stones in the planters at Detroit Airport? Note the Flyertalk Rock by a forum member.
Also of passing interest, our snow-covered NWA 747-400 after arrival:
how now brownpau
Have you left a message on the stones in the planters at Detroit Airport? Note the Flyertalk Rock by a forum member.
Also of passing interest, our snow-covered NWA 747-400 after arrival:
First, let’s set the mood with a video from the Keisei Skyliner:
Now, a few things we learned along the way:
That is all. We now close with the Jodo shu Buddhist monks of Zojo-ji chanting the nembutsu:
YOU ARE NOW BUDDHIST.
I kid.
Rather than a cheap hotel with small rooms, it’s much better to think of Oak Hotel as an upscale backpackers’ hostel with private rooms for rugged compact urban living, which is how they position themselves. Oak Hotel’s terraced brick building is nestled into an alleyway in Taito City, just ten minutes’ leisurely walk down the left side of Asakusa-dori from Ueno Station and Keisei Ueno (or just a few steps from Inaricho Metro station on the Ginza line).
I really wanted to like Oak Hotel. I loved the novelty of the tiny rooms and the even tinier bathrooms where you had to hunch to avoid bumping your head against the low ceiling in the shower. I loved the TV with just Japanese broadcast channels and their whimsical variety shows and shrill anime and samurai dramas. I loved the close proximity to the Metro and Ueno Park and Ameyokocho and Asakusa and Akihabara, with our pick of dozens of konbini and eating places right nearby. I loved how, when we checked-in, they asked me if I had a laptop, and when I said yes, they immediately gave me a bag with a cable modem and router in it (complete with amusingly translated Engrish manual) so I could plug into fast broadband internet right from our room. I loved that the staff were polite, friendly, accommodating, and fluent in English. And if we had stayed longer, I would have loved the downstairs informal common areas where you could eat and mingle with other visiting guests.
I loved all that, but the room itself was so dusty that it was unlivable. As soon as we walked in we began coughing, and it only got worse when we turned on the heat and ventilation. We couldn’t even sleep from coughing, though we found some relief when we reversed position so our feet faced the headboard, and opened the windows to let in some clean — but freezing — air. A quick tissue-wipe of the headboard came up worryingly dirty, and items left on the desk for the day accumulated noticeable quantities of particulate matter. I don’t know if it was ambient dust in the building or air pollution (not likely since the outside city air coming in through the window was actually cleaner) or some other factor, but the allergens in the air were so thick that we tried to stay out of the room as much as possible, because almost every moment in the room was spent in a miserable state of what felt like mild but constant anaphasic shock. We breathed fine as long as we were outside. This meant we didn’t get to sleep much — a situation not helped by the sounds of coughing from other guests in the building. (I didn’t mind the thin walls, as these were to be expected, but they did broadcast to us the aural evidence that we were not alone in our bronchial woes.) I really don’t get it because the room was well-kept and cleaned everyday, but the dust in the air remained intolerable.
So yeah, great location, outstanding service, friendly staff, cheap price, free fast internet, but if you have allergic reactions to lots of dust, maybe don’t stay here, or at least don’t stay in Room 214.
We visited an eye clinic. We took in the view from Tokyo Tower. We drank hot cans of Cafe au Lait while sitting by the waterfall in Shiba Park. We entered Zojoji Temple and listened to the chants of Jodo shu Buddhist monks. We walked through Ueno Park and viewed artifacts at the Tokyo National Museum. We strolled up and down Kappabashi-dori to buy little bowls and gawk at plastic food samples and a gold kappa statue. We browsed the stalls of Nakamise-dori and stood before Sensoji Temple. We wandered around Ginza and Asakusa and Akihabara till our feet were tired. We shopped at Yodobashi but didn’t find much. We ate tempura at Tenya and Japanese-like Chinese food at Tenryu and soba noodles at the Ueno JR. Tokyo is huge and sprawling and local TV is a hoot and people tend to eat at counters rather than tables and you bring your check to the cashier rather than paying your waiter and there sure are lots of bicyclists and vending machines and bowing and subway lines. We had fun in Tokyo — but I wish more places there took credit cards.
My family went on six dives spread out over three days but I only went on two of those dives on the second day, opting to keep Amy company at the resort on the first and third days.
Date: 1 Jan 2009
Location: Sepok Wall
Maximum depth: 85 ft
Dive time: 50 minutes
Air used: 2500 psi
Off the northwest tip of Maricaban Island, Sepok Wall starts as a flat reef at 20 feet, from where the gently sloping sea floor forks off and descends down to 80-100 feet, forming a wall teeming with coral and fish. There’s usually a moderate current in the area (my first time there, I was swept off the reef by a fairly strong flow) but that day it was mild, and cancelled out in the shallows by surface swell. I got to see a baby banded sea snake, a moray eel, and a mantis shrimp.
One equipment issue plagued me later in the dive — I had not used enough weight. As my air ran out I found myself tending to float upwards even when fully exhaled, and had to fight more and more to stay down, expending more air in the process. Towards the end of the dive, out of air and unable to maintain neutral buoyancy, I had no choice but to shoot up through my safety stop and fin back to the banca to rest. The really painful thing about this is that it means I’ve gotten fatter since last year, when I used the same amount of weight.
Date: 1 Jan 2009
Location: Koala
Maximum depth: 45 ft
Dive time: 55 minutes
Air used: 2000 psi
After a surface interval with lunch, hiking, and snorkeling with Amy (her first time!) at Sepok Beach, we left Maricaban Island and crossed the channel back to the Batangas area, where we dove Koala, a beginner-friendly reef. Koala is easy and shallow, but fairly well-populated with wildlife: lots of anemones with clownfish, and this dive featured a high concentration of lionfish. My brother Javi also found a strange, cross-shaped starfish, its arms possibly mutilated in an altercation with other local fauna.
I carried enough weight this time, but failed to spit enough into my mask, so it fogged up far too often, necessitating frequent floods and purges — meaning further air expenditure. Still, I lasted longer than I did at Sepok, and managed a safety stop this time. (Koala is so shallow that most of the dive is practically a safety stop anyway.)
In retrospect I should have gone on the next day’s dives as well; as evidenced by the latter half of the above video, that was when the fish came out to play.
Anilao (in Mabini, Batangas) has always been my family’s go-to spot for diving, ever since my parents’ scuba heyday in the 1960s. When I was a kid we had a nipa-and-bamboo house at a ramshackle, sparsely-amenitied bungalow resort called Seafari, from where we could launch a speedboat or hire a banca to take us to area dive spots. Today, Seafari is gone, and Mom wisely decided instead to book a resort which provided both diving and other non-scuba activities for Amy and my brothers’ significant others. So she picked Eagle Point Resort.
Somewhat isolated from the Anilao resort strip, the approach to Eagle Point starts in the hills of Bagalangit, further down Batangas Bay, branching off the main road to a narrow, winding jungle driveway leading to a parking lot, just the midpoint from where an Isuzu Elf shuttle takes you to the resort. From there, a clubhouse and open-air restaurant (called the Main Core) sits between two sections: the older cabana-and-cottage resort, and the more conventional Terrace Hotel, where we stayed.
Eagle Point has a dive shop and staging area with concrete boat dock and equipment rental office, three swimming pools (two connected by water slide), a small aviary of native birds, and a a walled-in saltwater habitat by the bay, for snorkelers to look at coral, groupers, baby sharks, and other wildlife. The habitat is somewhat necessary for non-divers who want to get in the water and experience some of the local marine life, as the beach by Eagle Point is rather rocky and difficult to swim or snorkel from.
Our hotel rooms were furnished heavily with bamboo, large and clean, featuring open balconies facing the sea. I noted that some bed headboards fitted badly around building supports jutting from the wall, such that the headboards leaned awkwardly over the beds, but this was no great trouble. Housekeeping came to clean every morning, leaving two complimentary bottles of distilled water per room each day. A few cable channels come through via satellite, and there was even free wifi in the Main Core, though cloudy days tend to degrade signal. Bathrooms had hot water and a nice big shower area, which was very nice.
The resort has a divemaster and advisory dive instructor on staff, both old scuba veterans of the area. For experienced divers there were no stringent requirements; the divemasters checked certifications, gave recommendations, and helped out with boat and equipment rentals. Otherwise we were free to dive without need for supervision — a requirement we have run into at other times.
In addition to the main resort, Eagle Point has acquired Sepok Beach on neighboring Maricaban Island, where they’ve built a “beach center.” This location, about a thirty minute banca ride from Anilao and within view of nearby Sombrero Island, provides the sandy beach venue missing from the main resort. The area also features a few picturesque walking paths through light seaside jungle to other rocky beaches on the peninsula, punctuated by the ruins of earlier resort moorings.
We stayed for four days through New Year 2009. I tend to hate New Year in the Philippines, and this was no exception. Let’s just say that when you set up firecrackers and bottle rockets at a beach resort, common sense dictates that you point them out to sea for safety, not at the resort so the guests can see the explosions better.
Aside from that that and the somewhat gloomy weather through our stay, Amy and I enjoyed ourselves immensely. Lots to do for divers and non-divers alike, courteous staff, well-maintained pool, excellent food, and some very engaging birds at the aviary. Here, for example, are some toucans:
While in Manila we stayed at Greenhills Elan Hotel Modern, which had rooms for P3400/night (about $70/night at the current exchange rate). One of the taller buildings on Annapolis Street facing towards Greenhills Shopping Center, Elan is actually a mixed residential building, consisting mostly of condos, with guest rooms on three of its thirty-eight floors set up for hotel use. You wouldn’t know it from the lobby, restaurant, and 24 hour front desk though — and really, three large floors is a decent size for a hotel.
This was much better than last year’s condotel experience, in which we were effectively subletting a room without any additional services. Elan was an actual hotel, with housekeeping, minibar, air conditioning, cable TV, breakfast buffet, roof-deck swimming pool, and actual hot running water in the shower. The bed was just right, with a nice, thick comforter-like blanket.
On the down side, the breakfast buffet was occasionally marred by various insects appearing on plates, in milk, or in coffee; and the the tub was a bit small, awkwardly sloped, and rather high up off the floor so one had to step down quite a ways to get out while simultaneously avoiding slipping on the sloping tub wall. First time I’ve had to use those bathroom wall bars meant for the elderly and disabled. Lights in the room were a bit dim, too, but that wasn’t too much of a problem. We had some rather annoying keycard problems the first two nights, too, but those were eventually fixed.
Other than that, the service was great, the room nice and clean, the staff courteous and helpful, and the location perfect for our needs. Right across the street is the daytime gate to Greenhills Shopping Center, form which you can go left to Promenade or right to V
irra Mall. There are two laundromats in the immediate area (cheaper than the hotel laundry service), and a 7-11 and two Asian food markets right nearby, not to mention all the restaurants right across the street in Promenade.
And the southwest-facing view from our 37th floor room was exquisite, covering Greenhills, Wack Wack, Makati, and right up to Manila Bay.
Definitely a keeper, for a good price.
We took it easy for most of this trip: lots of rest, no day tours, more time spent with family. (Sorry to all the friends with whom we skipped meetups, maybe next time.) We went down to the family’s farm in Laguna to try and swim in my uncle’s geothermal pool, but didn’t get to swim since my dad’s company Christmas party was in view of the pool area and that would have been uncomfortable. (But I did get to sample some of my uncle’s most excellent scotch upstairs. Oh yes.) We lunched with Dad at Polo Club and with Mom at Club Filipino, and did some shopping at the Greenhills tiangge and department stores at Megamall and Shangri-La — which they are apparently calling “Shang” now. Amy got pearls and shirts, and I got a ton of bargain-priced black underwear. We also got to see an exhibit of Chinese-Filipino portraits by Fernando Amorsolo at the Yuchengco Museum, part of an ongoing Amorsolo retrospective. And of course our last days were spent in reunion with relatives at Tito Cesar’s wake.
More photos here, including our New Year trip to Anilao, which I will write about later.
A fond farewell to my Tito Cesar Bautista, who passed away shortly after New Year’s Day. Husband to my dad’s sister Tita Menchu, he was an engineer and an entrepreneur, and a man with a big heart and a huge family.
In my childhood my parents when traveling would sometimes leave me and my brother with Tita Menchu and Tito Cesar. I was a confused little kid, and at some point during one of these childsitting stayovers I adopted my tito and tita as my own “Mama Mintsu and Papa Titay,” relegating my own parents to uncle/aunt status. Now, I love my parents, so remembering that is a bit of an embarassing matter to me today, but it’s an illustration of how loved and welcomed I felt in their house, a love that Tito Cesar shared with all through his life.
Tito Cesar leaves behind Tita Menchu, and a family of eight kids, all married with kids of their own, some kids with kids, so he had gotten to see some of his great-grandchildren. I was happy to hear that he got to spend one last Christmas with them, even getting out of his wheelchair to dance a bit with Tita Menchu. I hope to see him again some day at the resurrection, but for now, he rests, and we mourn, but also rejoice in that hope.
Series of time lapse videos taken through rather scratchy plane window, Boeing 747-400 en route from DTW to NRT over the lower Arctic. Music thrown together with Garageband loops.