5:15am: Beep Beep! Beep Beep! Logan’s alarm goes off 45min before we actually have to get up, as always! We are getting ready, back into transit mode, walk out the guesthouse, jump into a taxi and… end up at the wrong terminal. This time it’s not the taxi driver’s fault: our flight was moved.
In the streets we go past tourists who are still sitting outside drinking, prostitutes waiting for their next customer and poor women with babies, asking for money at traffic lights. While stuck in the very chaotic traffic jam, men sell bananas and newspapers in the middle of the highway. The air is full of smog and everyone is beeping their horns.
The flight is short, so is the landing strip!!! I have to support myself by holding onto the front seat and the plane sounds like it would fall apart. Logan is smiling.
We jump into a small van to get dropped off at Kokosnuss guesthouse. The way to our room is through a pretty garden with fountains and hammocks, only about 14AUD for the room.
A few minutes later I find myself in a tricycle. It’s a shabby motorbike with a shabby housing around it, so that between two to six adults can fit in. What an experience, I quite like these things, at least for shorter trips.
Logan and I decide we need to organise our banka (boat) to El Nido for Sunday and also to have a look at island hopping and diving.
Coron town is, umm, different! It’s a little chaotic with all the tricycles, dirty and not very welcoming. The residents stare at us, especially Logan’s hair. Some are very friendly, most are unfriendly or weird, but all want our money!
We are getting ripped off every time. It’s a poor place and when you have a glimpse in people’s backyards, all you see is mud, rubbish, dirt and faeces. The smell reflects that.
Behind all that you see people carrying on with their everyday life: kids are riding the tricycle with us on their way to school, the market is full of life, well, and dead pig heads, and in the background there it is: Paradise. Coron Island.
Transit mode is over. We are holidaying!