Today marks eight months into my Philippines life. More good than bad by a long shot. The sadness that permeated my existence in Korea the last couple of years has largely dissipated. I’ve had some friends let me down and it is disappointing that I’ve not found the love I crave, but otherwise I have no complaints.

Regular readers know I live a pretty simple existence here consisting largely of walking and drinking beer. You gotta go with your strengths, right?

I was feeling particularly motivated this morning so I hoofed it over to the old Navy base via the beach route.

It was my first time walking around the old base and I rather enjoyed it. Lots more to see there yet, so I’ll try and incorporate it into my walking routines. A bit of a pain in the ass to get to (almost an hour walk) but worth it. Might try and time it so I can enjoy some dining at one of the numerous Korean restaurants or maybe Texas Joe’s for some American BBQ. It’s good to have options.

My rent is paid in advance for the next twelve months, so I ain’t going anywhere else anytime soon. Just going to do my best to enjoy the ride and see what happens next.

It’s easy to get sucked into your daily routines where everything is, well, routine. But sometimes you just need to take a step back and recognize just how special some of those routine moments can be.

I ran into a friend guy I know and he invited me to join him at his table. He had three bargirls he was feeding drinks and he was also well on his way to being wasted (which is not at all unusual for him). Anyway, he told me his table was a “no bra, no panties zone”. I assured him I wasn’t wearing either, and of course he said he meant the ladies. Then he surprised me by having the gals demonstrate that they were in fact not wearing undergarments. Wow!

Actually, random acts of public nudity are really not my thing but I’m not one to judge those who feel otherwise. Still, it was one of those “only in the Philippines” moments. Although truth be told, I saw similar displays in Thailand.

This morning I joined up with the Wednesday Walkers group for a massive mountain hike. There were only four of us this go round.

We climbed up, over, and down the mountain into Olongapo City. Walked the city streets some, then hiked back up, over, and down the mountain into Barretto.

Speaking of Cheap Charlies, I got to see Heidi briefly this afternoon. She was handling cashier duties so we didn’t get a chance to chat much. Well, truth be told, we haven’t been chatting much period. Still no calls or texts. Yesterday when I popped in before the floating bar she was not in uniform, so I figured maybe she was getting ready to be off. She ignored me though, giving full attention to whomever she was texting on her phone. I finally got frustrated and left.

After a few beers at the floating bar I made another appearance at Cheap Charlies and was surprised to see she was still there. Chatting up another customer in standard bargirl fashion. She did briefly come by to say hello and to tell me sorry that she was so busy. Whatever.

That’s the problem I think. Heidi simply sees me as another customer and not even her “best” customer. She is experienced enough to know that most of what customers say is bola bola (Tagalog for bullshit) and I guess my expressions of amore for her don’t ring true. I mean, I get that and it is frankly one of the perils of trying to have a relationship with a bargirl. Honestly, IF things ever did click between us I would insist she quit the job and let me support her. The last thing I want to see is my girlfriend being the drinking buddy of random men.

Anyway, we are a LONG way from that point and it is likely to be a bridge too far. Today during the brief opportunity we had to chat I told her I had read up on the Camino de Santiago trail in Spain and the movie “The Way” featuring that hike (thanks Kevin!). She seemed impressed. I then told her that after she falls in love with me we’ll take a trip to Spain and experience it for ourselves. I’m not exactly sure how that went over, just got a funny look from her. Well, I’m just going to leave it alone. She has my number.

Meanwhile, I’ll continue enjoying my smooth life here in paradise, such as it is.

And if you said this life ain’t good enough
I would give my world to lift you up
I could change my life to better suit your mood
Because you’re so smooth
And it’s just like the ocean under the moon
Oh, it’s the same as the emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of lovin’ that can be so smooth, yeah
Give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it

No paddle, but I did have my walking stick. For all the good it did me.

This is kind of a continuation of my previous post documenting yesterday’s Hash. Not mentioned in that post was that because of dusk setting in me and the guy (a newbie) I was on trail with had to shortcut the final section of the walk. I hate doing that so I resolved that I would go back out this morning I finish the part I missed.

Big mistake. Worse trail ever! It literally went up a creek bed, including some steep inclines that must be magnificent waterfalls in rainy season. Some of those climbs took every thing I had physically and I was in constant fear that I’d slip and injure myself. And of course, I was alone on trail. I survived and the worst that happened was getting my shoes wet, in some places the water was nearly up to my knees.

Anyway, I would never voluntarily hike this particular trail again, with or without the Hash. The Hare must be some kind of masochist. It was that fucked up. The few pictures I took (I was focused on survival) don’t do the so-called trail justice, but here they are:

Anyway, I got through it but never again!

Time for me to eat that pot roast I’ve been crockpot cooking all day!

Well, I wasn’t in the Rocky Mountains but yesterday’s Hash found me atop a rocky mountain. And it was nice!

It was another good day on trail!

In other news I paid the rent. One year in advance per the terms of my three year lease. I guess that makes me committed. Or crazy. Or both. Anyway, as a concession to the difficulty of amassing large sums of currency from the USA, the landlord accepted my personal check in dollars. At the current exchange rate that amounted to $10,319.00. That’s a chunk of change! Not to worry, what I do is deposit the amount of my rent each month in my savings account. When it comes due again next year, the money will be ready and waiting.

Peace out! (where are you Soju?)

I once more tried to find my way over the mountain to Rizal street, this time leaving from my subdivision and armed with all the good advice I received in the comments to my previous post. Alas, my confidence proved unwarranted.

Interestingly, at the point I picked up the path leaving Alta Vista I noted a Hash trail marking for tomorrow’s Hash:

I followed that trail for awhile as it was leading in the proper direction. I hoped that it might actually be going to Rizal street, but when it took a right fork my sense of direction (and landmarks) told me to take the path to the left.

I have no fucking idea what was up with that laundry. I mean, I could see where it had been washed in the creek but there was no shanty shack or anything else resembling a residence anywhere in sight. Not even a hammock.

Well anyway, the Hash markings were nine weeks old and not easy to follow, especially in the creek bed. At some point I lost that trail and then I lost the path altogether. That was decidedly uncomfortable. I was blazing a new uncharted path in terrain completely unfamiliar to me. I didn’t like that feeling at all. Eventually I conceded defeat and retreated to the creek again to try and regain the path, or any path for that matter. I did find something finally and followed it until I was down from the mountain. And into the valley that bumps up against my subdivision.

Ah, at least I knew where I was, but damn, I had once again made a big circle to get nowhere. And I give up. It just feels too unsafe to be wandering around the wilderness alone and clueless. I had hoped to find an easy path to Rizal street but I’m not sure now that it exists. I mean, there is definitely a path that leads there, but not one that I feel safe hiking by my lonesome.

Well, on the bright side you my readers will not have to endure another post like this one!

UPDATE: Yikes! This is the fifth time I’ve used the “Curses, foiled again” title.

August 2010 about watching The Wire and going to E-mart.

November 2011, a one-liner linking to a story about the Happy Meal ban in San Francisco.

February 2014 in which I posted this cartoon (my nickname used to be “the Walrus”).

And finally, March 2014 where I go on a rant about my dealings with the Social Security Administration and the Department of Homeland Security and their race to the bottom for the most incompetent government agency award. Of course, the joke was on me. Jee Yeun finally got her status completed and then threw it all away. Me included.

I’ve been trying to find a back way out of my subdivision and over the mountain to Barretto, specifically to wear Rizal road dead ends. I know such a pathway exists because I hashed it once but try as I might I haven’t been able to find that trail.

It’s a pretty big deal for me to even attempt walking these backwoods paths on my own anyway. Overcoming my fear of getting hurt or lost has taken some time. There was a moment yesterday when I’m out in the middle of the wilderness and I encounter a man walking towards me–carrying a machete! Despite my feelings of vulnerability we exchanged a hearty greeting and went on our separate ways. So sometimes you just have to feel the fear and do it anyway I suppose.

My plan was to approach the mission of discovery from a different perspective–I determined to start my walk from the end of Rizal street. That was a good 45 minute hike the long way around from my house. Once I got off the road I figured my innate sense of direction would lead me to the proper trail back to Alta Vista subdivision. Turns out my sense of direction is similar to that of another famous explorer…Christopher Columbus. Except I didn’t see any Indians.

Long story short, after wandering around on the mountain for awhile the trail I discerned to be the correct one led me back down. And I found myself on Rizal street! Damn it!

Speaking of being stymied, Facebook twisted the knife in my heart by sharing this memory from 2 years ago:

Talk about going in circles.

UPDATE: Damn, turns out I’ve used “Stymied” as a post title once before–July 2016. It was about a medical issue I was experiencing. Is there no depth to the lack of depthness I’m willing to expose my readers to? Apparently not!

I got a message from a reader asking if I was okay. I said yes, why do you ask? She replied that I hadn’t posted since January 1 so she just wanted check up on me. Well, thanks. I appreciate that.

Fact is I kinda sorta had a goal to post something here every day. You know, in true diary fashion. But damn, the days all run together into a sameness that makes it difficult sometimes to come up with anything interesting to say. Yeah, I know. That’s never stopped me before. And honestly, I’m not bored nor am I complaining about my lot in my life. I truly am enjoying my time here for the most part.

Anyway, this blog is what it is. I don’t delve into politics much these days and while I maintain a healthy interest in the world around me I just don’t have much to contribute to the conversation. Just call me a passive observer. So I reckon I’ll just continue to write about my life here for whatever that’s worth. And I’ll give you photos too. Lots of photos! Like these:

Once the sun went down things got pretty wild at the bar. Wild in the sense that a gal at the next table took all her clothes off and was dancing naked. Unfortunately she was fat and ugly which made it easy to avert my eyes. Ah well, Justin had another memory to carry home with him.

Not sure which is worse, my writing or my photography. But I’ll endeavor to give you healthy doses of both in the future. Stick around!

UPDATE: The first time I used the “On the Water” title for a blog post was nearly seven years ago, January 6, 2012. It was on the occasion of visiting my high school buddies Rod and Pat Headlee on their sailboat when they were passing through the Carolina’s.