the taal volcano

I've just finished having an early breakfast at my hotel. An annoying American man called Bill was my companion throughout. Bill's great: he's been everywhere and knows it all about absolutely everything. You name it, he can shout you down on it. Many of his stories revolve around scrapes he's got himself into in South East Asia. He seems to have inspired a fair bit of hostility as he's proceeded. 'Can you believe the guy wanted to punch me?' ended one of his anecdotes. 'I'm thinking about doing the same right now,' I thought.

Yesterday I left Manila and headed south to Talisay. My mission was to climb a live volcano. I got a Jeepney from my hotel to Baclaran, and found a waiting air-conditioned coach lined up and ready to leave. I hopped on and enjoyed the straightforward hour long journey south. On the way down I noticed a sign displaying more Philippino humour. It was the sign of an army barracks and read as follows:

ARMY OF THE PHILIPPINES

3rd BATTALION BARRACKS

STRICTLY NO ENTRY

TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT

SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT...AGAIN

I can't imagine an official sign like that on MOD property in the UK, more's the pity. It kept me chuckling until we reached my stop at Tagaytay.

At Tagaytay I hailed a motorbike and sidecar, and hired the driver, Edwin, for the afternoon. He rode me at break neck speed the ten or so kilometres down to Talisay. As we pulled away the heavens opened and it began to pour with heavy rain. It bucketed down. The sidecar had a roof to it, but it was only moderately successful in keeping me dry. At one point, I grasped my Hollyoaks rucksack, opening it to check my Lonely Planet was not getting too water damaged. At the precise moment I did so we hit a large puddle which sprayed a jet of water up and down through the open top of the bag. Only one word to for it. Shit.

We arrived in Talisay, pulling up at the waters edge of Lake Taal, and the God's were merciful and laid the rain off for a few hours. The Taal Volcano is located on an island in the middle of Lake Taal, which is itself the watery innard of an even larger, non-active volcano. I had a massive lunch of fish and rice by the shore, and then boarded a bangcas (a small outrigger pumpboat). We began the journey across the lake, and the driver pumped up the volume on his stereo: Guns N Roses and a smattering of Philippino pop music. Words can't really do justice to beauy of the location; you'll have to trust me when I say it was magnificent.

Once on the island I hired a horse and guide and rode up the volcano, mindful that there have been thirty three recorded violent eruptions since 1572, the most devastating in 1911 which claimed a thousand lives. Taal last blew in 1977, the year of my birth. In light of it's eruptive history, and proximity to human population, it has been designated a 'Decade Volcano' by the authorities, meaning it is needy of indepth research and constant monitoring. We reached the top. The horse had some water. The guide had a coke. I paid. The view into the crater was well worth the climb. Looking down you could see what at first appearance looked like another smaller lake, but on close scrutiny you could see it bubbling and spitting away. I stood and gazed for a while telling myself: 'appreciate this please.'

We then rode slowly back down and, once back at the shore, I dismounted and started to wander slowly over to my bangcas to make the return trip. As I did so, I saw the guy who had driven me over sprint like his life depended on it at the boat. He then launched himself from a bit of wood up and in to the small hull. 'Funny,' I thought. Then it happened. Just like that. A burst of torrential rain suddenly fell from the sky, and before I even could engage my brain I started to sprint too. I dived on board, and under the thin canvass roof of the boat, but it was too late. I was soaked. I managed to keep my camera and wallet dry at least. Thank God. We sat in the boat until the weather turned and then crossed back.

Edwin ran me back to the highway bus stop and I bought some local Buko Pie (pineapple pie). It was 5.30pm, and I jumped on a bus back to metro Manila. Back at Baclaran I caught my second Jeepney of the day, and headed back to the hotel. Cream crackered, I had a tuna sandwich, and a bottle of coke, and then went to bed.

Transport used during the day: two Jeepneys, two public buses, one motorbike and side car, one bangcas (boat), and a horse.