Manila

If roads and highways are the veins of city, Manila's main arteries are clogged like those of a man who sits on his squishy throne all day snacking on crackers topped with butter, pate, camembert and roquefort, plus a Glaswegian scooby snack* on the side. For dinner he asks for a 16oz steak, french fries and a liter of diet coke. Outside his golden palace of delicious goodies lies a wasteland of high rise buildings, next to haphazardly built slums with open sewage systems and giant knots of electric wires. There is a constant hum of traffic, punctuated by shouts and blaring horns as individual cells make their way about their busy lives, selfishly pushing, inching forward one creaking minute at time. 

Meet Manila, one of the most densely populated (and one of the most badly planned) cities of Asia. You might think I don't like this giant capital, and you're right, I don't. I find it difficult to summon any kind of enthusiasm for a city which completely disregards much (if not all) of its potential for long term, socially relevant growth, choosing instead to focus on personal and economic gain. Don't get me wrong, the city is physically growing and it does invest in new globally fluid projects like shopping malls with huge international retailers and ultra modern apartment buildings with exquisitely designed interiors. These are blind projects though – less than 5% of the population can actually afford such luxuries.

Anyway, who wants another mall with the same shops and restaurants when schools haven’t been renovated since the 70s and hospitals are largely inaccessible in the heart of the city? Instead of investing in health and education, the city invests in glossy advertising to improve its image, like make-up can be used to create the illusion of high cheekbones and delightfully youthful skin. While Manila is far from being the only city in the world which uses such tactics to mask its skewed priorities, it is probably one of the most transparent. And when you’re stuck in hours of traffic with nothing better to do than to look at the people and buildings around you, decades’ worth of easily fixable mistakes glaring at you, you can’t help but become frustrated and disillusioned with the world around you.

If trees are the lungs of the city, this man has none, opting instead to fill the blackened cavern in his chest with exhaust fumes and airborne by-products of industrial waste. He takes delight in the pockets of combustion smoke which settle in each tunnel, each underpass, as stalled cars, motorcycles, trucks and buses wait like prisoners in line for their execution. Why should they care if their actions negatively affect others? Their own lives are too short.

  

* A Scooby Snack is a type of hamburger sold in Glasgow. It holds a hamburger patty, square sausage, bacon, potato scone, a fried egg and a slice of processed cheese, served with a hamburger bun, tomato ketchup and brown sauce. Two bites from one of these babies and you're set for the week. Seriously. If you're in Glasgow and interested in trying one out, keep an eye out for The Maggie, a white food van which usually hangs out at the the entrance of the Glasgow Botanics at the top of Byres Road in the West End. 

Idanha-a-Nova: Boom Boom

"Ah, you're looking for boom boom", fistpump.
"Er, yes, the festival".
"Sim, o bum bum" fistpump, fistpump, "you have to go back where you came from, back to Idanha-a-Nova where you follow the river, mumble mumble, Barrancos mumble take a left mumble. But whatever you do, do not cross the river. Then you follow that road, mumble mumble mumble mumble and there, you ask for directions again. Ok?"
"O-ok" I have no idea, "muito obrigada e boa noite".

I turn the little Fiat 500 around and leave the thin smiling older lady standing by the road near the border of Spain and Portugal. We are once again driving back towards Idanha-a-Nova, towards a setting sun, towards the policeman who told us to come in this direction in the first place.

"Do you know where you're going?"
"No, but we'll figure it out".
"Well, if we pass that camper van again we can ask them for directions. They looked like Boomers."
"These guys also look like Boomers, and they look just as lost as we are". We pass a car parked on a side lane leading to the middle of a wheat field, interior lights on, a big map held up comically covering the faces of two blonde hunched figures. They could also have been spies.

After about an hour of driving up and down the same 20km stretch of road between Idanha-A-Nova and the Spanish border, asking for directions two more times, once to that same policeman who sent us the wrong way and another to the French group in the camper van who took the time to explain that all policemen are idiots in broken English, we finally found the way to the entrance of Boom Festival. We also found the 2 hour long queue of cars waiting to be let onto the grounds. In fairness, it was another 20 km to the actual entrance from the point where we finally joined the queue. 20 km at a snail's pace. 3 hours later, just after midnight, we were in.

The week that followed was one of the best festival experiences I have ever had. Disregarding the music which is where the festival gets its name from (psy trance = boom boom), this was a gathering of 30,000 like minded, socially, environmentally, and politically conscious individuals who were out to have dance, have fun and share the love. It's hard to talk about the festival without sounding cheesy, but what struck me most was the open-mindedness and genuine kindness of complete strangers towards one another. As an example, even after 7 days of full on party mode, there was very little litter to be seen on the festival grounds. Communal areas such as vegetable and herb gardens, shared kitchens, cafes and tree nests were kept clean by the festival goers themselves. Bending over the mud ovens puzzling over where to get more kindling from, someone suddenly appears beside you with an arms' full of firewood. Suddenly instead of cooking a meal for a small group of friends, you become part of a shared feast exchanging ideas and tips, sharing the workload. If only large cities had more communal spaces like that, as well as the conscious mind to be more respectful towards each other.

Mind you, I am not entirely sure whether such a social system would work for more than a week. The novelty might wear off after a while and you could find yourself searching for a way to escape the crowds and the noise. You could end up in a wheat field surrounded by golden morning light, glad to have found some solitude at last, but wary of the harsh glaring sun which will quickly make its way of the bright blue sky.

For the most part though, the festival was truly educational and eye opening experience. I learned about water treatment systems which use different kinds of grasses and mosses to purify water, without the need of using chemicals. I also learned about midwifery and the fact that it is actually illegal to practice this in some countries. Who knew having a child at home could be so threatening for the medical profession. I learned different theories about the psychology of relationships, models for efficient and self-sustaining communities as well as the role of the individual on the political system. I even met Benny Wenda, the Laani tribe leader from West Papua who talked about the genocide of his people and civil war that is going on there right now. Turns out he's been exiled from his country and now lives in Oxford. There is a recording of him speaking Laani on Language Landscape.

View from a shepherd's house at Idanha-A-Nova

The trip ends with Inti and I camping near an abandoned house on the hillside of Idanha-da-Nova. Nothing obstructs our view, the distant sounds of Boom echo in the valley and mountains, our bellies are full of watermelon and homemade tomato jam given to us by kind, jabbering old ladies dressed in black, ready for Sunday evening mass. Tomorrow we wake up at the crack of dawn and make for Lisbon. We are ready for our next trip: Manila.

www.boomfestival.org
www.freewestpapua.org

Cycling through Riesling country

Drying lavender, ED 2014

Before coming to the Philippines, I spent some time in Germany cleaning, fixing  and weather proofing windows and furniture as well as gardening, harvesting and drying something like 300 lavender plants. It's surprisingly nice to sit on a hill of lavender surrounded by bumble and honey bees gently ignoring you as they go about the very important task of gathering nectar for their hives. Honey bees are pretty harmless, and won't commit suicide by stinging you as long as you don't approach them in an aggressive manner. One of these days I hope to convince my parents to add a beehive to their garden, but that's a ways away yet.

I'm afraid the German country side isn't in the top 20 summer destination of 2014, nor does it have the romantic appeal of French or Italian countryside but that's quite alright with me. The days are warm, the sun comes out during the day, and we have the most magnificent summer thunderstorms in the evenings. Thick forests and cool freshwater lagoons offer relief from the heat and you can feed yourself off countless fruit trees and berry bushes. If you're really interested, you can follow the fruit trails all the way into Riesling country, either by cycling or navigating along the Mosel river from Koblenz to Trier (app. 200km) and beyond.

Unlike the Rhein which is a busy highway of cargo and heavy transport ships, the Mosel river is winding country road which offers views of countless rows of wine vineyards. The best time to cycle along the river is in the morning before 11 or after 3 as dusk begins to settle. At these times the heat is not as severe and you will save yourself having to collapse in the mid-day sun  under a withered dry tree offering sparse shade. If this does happen however, rest assured no one will bother you, although at least try to make sure you are on the river bank so you can enjoy a quick dip when you wake up.

People in this part of Germany are very friendly and for the most part helpful - maybe they're used to seeing lots of lost cyclists wandering the streets of their towns. The towns themselves like Zell for example, are beautiful and small, paved with cobble stones and full of old establishments each offering samples of the best wine in the valley. If you find yourself in Zell, watch out for the legendary black cat (Zeller schwarze Katz) which protects the wine of the area from thieving merchants.

The food on offer along the river, is simple and filling German cuisine. If you are staying in a hotel that does breakfast in the morning, think muesli, fruit, yogurt, wild honey, perfectly prepared soft-boiled eggs, German rye bread, nutella and selection of cold cuts (cheeses, hams, cucumber and tomato). To be honest, this was the best breakfast I have ever had at a hotel. I have never been so excited over a selection of four different kinds of German bread, three different kinds of honey, and perfect soft-boiled eggs buried in sand. Moving on to lunch, if you can stomach it after your filling and nutritious breakfast, summer is the season for delicious pfifferlinge (otherwise mushrooms or chanterelles) which are lightly cooked with butter and a pinch of salt and pepper, served over toast or pasta. Alternatively you can enjoy some flammkuchen, or tarte flambee, a thin-crusted Alsatian pizza of sorts topped with creme fraiche, thinly sliced onions and bacon. Fortunately, some taverns now also offer vegetarian alternatives which saves some the tedious hassle of picking off the tiny bits of bacon. Finally if you're starving for grub at dinner time after your 60km cycle sans lunch, a generous portion of potato, sausage and onion casserole awaits you next to a pint of wheat or white beer. Alternatively, a leafy goat's cheese salad with a glass of Riesling will also do. After this you're off to bed for a good night's rest before an early start the next day.

Cycling selfie, CD 2014

Mud skippers, sea slugs and Synapta Maculata

Sea diving in the Philippines is a marine biologists' wet dream with countless underwater species to be seen, even by the most amateur enthusiasts such as myself who have no idea what they're looking at. As a pretend marine biologist, one who has explored a fair number of coral reefs around the world in the Americas, Europe, Asia and Oceania (Great Barrier Reef not included), I can certify that this is one of the most diverse and biologically rich oceans to explore. Although I have also heard great things about Indonesian and Papuan waters. Moray eels, clown fish in anemones, long nosed snapper, sea turtles, different coloured parrot fish, moorish fish, lobsters, angelfish, long nosed butterfly fish, starfish, and pufferfish are some of the great underwater creatures you will see while diving in the Philippines. Here are some of the creatures I was most excited/intrigued to see:

If you're wondering what the hell is a Synapta Maculata, that is exactly what I thought when I first saw one. Clues:

• It lives underwater;
• It is long and snake like;
• Appears to be wearing a skin too big for its size which bunches up depending on the creatures' shape or position;
• It has stubby whitish tentacles on one end with little feelers that wave back and forth, presumably for feeding;
• The other side looks like the end of tail;
• It has black and white stripes.

After hunting around on the internet for a while with searches like "striped underwater snake with tentacles", I finally found an answer. It's basically something like a spotted worm sea cucumber which can grow up to 2 meters in length. Pretty harmless creatures, but I wouldn't want to accidentally swim into a group of those.

Sea slugs are the cutest things. I've never before had the chance to see them in the wild, but swimming 20m below sea level, you'll suddenly see tiny bits of purple and white stripes wiggling around you. Take a closer look and it's an itty bitty sea slug swimming enthusiastically, it's yellow horns ready to pounce on a delicious bit of sponge. Tasty. There are many kinds of sea slugs and they come in all beautiful shapes and sizes, but here in the Philippines the most common are chromodoris lochi. The ones I saw were about 2cm long, but they can grow to double that size.

When I was little, I used to love watching nature documentaries and I remember learning about these weird fish that lived on land. Somehow the name of these creatures stuck with me, and as soon as I saw them I knew I was looking at mud skippers or periophthalmus cantonensis. They are amphibious fish which spend most of their lives above water by breathing through water stored in their cheeks. They belong to the same family as gobies, those little fish with beautiful multicoloured tails which breed like crazy in aquariums. Of course, the goby family is huge and there are many different kinds. You can learn more about mud skippers here (courtesy of David Attenborough's BBC Life series) :