Moving along, one step at a time. I did a 7K Sunday stroll around San Isidro, and it looked this:
Leaving the ‘hood.A San Isidro backroad at 1.6KCrossing bridge #4 at 3.2KSawmill Road in “downtown” San Isidro at 4.8KHeading back to Alta Vista at 6.4KHome sweet home
It’s getting to be a Sunday tradition that I feed the girls at Hideaway Bar. Hey, it’s something we can all look forward to sharing. I baked up a batch of brownies for the brown knees and stopped at Chooks To Go:
For some take-out rotisserie chickens.Dinner is served, ladies!
I shared a few drinks with Joy but did not partake in the meal. I had a hankering for something different. It had been way too long since my last visit to Mango’s beach bar.
It was nice to plop down in my old seat and take in some beach views.Grilled pork chops, thick and juicy, really hit the spot.And then the storm clouds came rolling in. Lots of lighting, rain, and wind drove me from my perch back to the safety of the bar.
When the rain subsided, I headed back to the highway. Was surprised to see Queen Victoria open on a Sunday, so I dropped in. I was the only customer, and I could tell they were waiting for me to hurry and finish my drink so they could close early. I’m not saying that in a mean way; they were all kind and friendly towards me, even going next door to buy some soda water for my gin drinks.
So, I had been hoping for an invite from my friend to visit Kamto, but it never came. I enjoy her company but don’t want to intrude on her space as she pursues new opportunities. I’ve moved on, but I’m not at the point where I want to witness her cuddling with someone else. Yeah, I’m pathetic, I know.
Instead, I went to Snackbar. I’ve got to say, the ladies there always make me feel special. Yep, they are good at their job, and I’m always happy to play along. It was a nice way to finish my evening. The trike stand is right across the road, and I made it home none the worse for wear. I am getting better at pacing myself for the “buzz” without the being stupid drunk part.
A decent night’s sleep, then up to face another day.
Let’s start this one with some cranberry muffins. Yum!
It’s Hash Monday, so my standard morning walk is the short 5K trek to and from Baloy Beach.
The Alta Vista high view.Entering the Baloy domain at 1.6KOn the beach at 3.2The shortcut home at 4.8KBack where I started.
And that’s where things stand with me. I’m just going to keep plugging away. Thanks for stopping by; I’ll be back tomorrow.
I remembered last night, so it is good to be back to normal in that regard. I didn’t do anything memorable, but still…
The morning started as most of them do with a walkabout. I have several standard solo hikes I do, and yesterday it was my Barretto street walk. I’ve been letting the “Map My Walk” app dictate when I snap a photograph (every mile/1.6K), and here’s how my path looked yesterday:
On the National Highway at 1.6.Abra Street at 3.2Jasmine Street at 4.8La Union Street 5.6KShenandoah Bend (and home) at 6.4K
Easy peasy.
Started my evening out at IDM for the wedding reception of owner Cliff and his bride Ashley. Congratulated them both, gave my waitress a lady drink and generous tip, then headed out. Just wasn’t in a party mood for some reason.
Next up was Cheap Charlies. Marilou seems to be the most popular gal in the bar as she is always occupied with other customers when I arrive. Good for her and well-earned. She knows how to do her job. My other favorite, Rose, took good care of me too. My mood improved, and I started feeling generous. I ordered up some chicken wings, chicken fingers, and lumpia, which was more than enough for me, Rose, and the other unoccupied staff. One of the bartenders commented that it had been a long time since I had bought them food. Yeah, it has been. I guess I let my displeasure with my former “friends” there impact the innocent bystanders.
My view at Cheap Charlies.
When I was preparing to leave, I asked Rose if she preferred another lady drink (120 pesos, of which she gets 60 peso commission) or a tip for that amount. I guess that should be a no-brainer, but some bars have a drink quota system. If you don’t get X number of lady drinks, your (already low) salary is reduced). Rose said she didn’t have a quota and would be happy with the tip. When I departed, I stuffed 250 pesos in her cleavage.
That was fun. Now what? Well, I hadn’t been to Sit-n-Bull for a while, and I wouldn’t be going now because I had just eaten. But I know the waitresses there are always wanting ice cream, and I do try to be accommodating. So I popped into the store next door and bought a half-gallon of their favorite flavor: Double Dutch. When I came in, they greeted me warmly as usual and offered me a menu. I told them no thanks; I have a delivery. They were thrilled with my gift. Their smiles were worth every one of those 275 pesos.
Now, where? I hadn’t been to Alaska Club for a couple of weeks, and owner Jerry was outside to welcome me as I walked up. Only one other customer, but it was still early on a Saturday night. A lot of these bars have a late-night crowd, I assume. Five dancers on stage, but not the one (Marissa) I had met at the first SOB last month. My waitress pointed out a new dancer, describing her as an 18-year-old cherry girl. No, thank you! I don’t go for teenagers, and I’m not interested in a virgin. Instead, I called down the oldest one on stage and bought her a couple of drinks. I don’t think I even asked her her name, knowing I’d forget it anyway. She was happy with the drink commissions and tip, though.
The final stop on the night was Outback. They have a very small staff (one bartender, two waitresses), and since I was the only customer, none of them were occupied. Naturally, I did a round of lady drinks for everyone. It was nice having all of their attention to myself. That’s the best thing about giving and getting. We were all happy.
And then I went home. Alone but aware of my surroundings. I’ll figure this out yet!
I'll give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my life for you
So give a little bit
Oh, give a little bit of your time to me
See the man with the lonely eyes
Oh, take his hand, you'll be surprised
Just a quick recap of my more drunken interesting than usual Friday night.
I started out by dropping into my former haunt at Alley Cats. It was Billy’s birthday, so I brought her some brownies and a gift envelope. I stayed for two drinks, but the “cold shoulder” vibe I’d felt during my previous visit continued. I’m talking as much about the fellow customers as I am about the bargirls. Keep in mind this was my former hangout for over four years, and now I felt like a stranger. The good news is I don’t give a shit. If someone doesn’t like me enough even to be polite, I don’t want or need them in my life.
Since I decided to bail out early at Alley Cats, I still had time to make it to the SOB competition being held this week at Voodoo. My first visit there since I did the bar review last November. It’s a smaller bar, but there were still plenty of good seats left when I arrived. Since I don’t frequent this bar, I didn’t know any of the waitresses or dancers. I picked one dancer randomly to join me for some company during the show.
I was a little surprised when she told me she was 45 years old. That is the oldest dancer I’ve ever seen in a bar. Granted, she was still attractive, and despite having three kids, her body was in good shape.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember her name now.
She’s a touchy-feely kind of gal, and her friskiness in a public place made me a little uncomfortable. But the drinks were flowing, the show was going, and no one else was knowing. When the contest was over (Voodoo won), I said my goodnight to what’s-her-name and dragged my drunken ass out of the bar.
It wasn’t time to go home yet, though. There’s an event after the SOB called “Aftermath” featuring reduced drink prices and more discount coupons being raffled. It was being held next door at Hot Zone, so I popped in and drank some more.
Then things got a little fuzzy. Well, more than a little. I recall getting a text message from a female friend saying she had been waiting for a Jeepney home for a long time without any luck. I guess I invited her to join me at Hot Zone, and she agreed. And that’s where things go blank.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on my couch. That’s a first for me—no recollection of how or why I ended up there. I made my way to the bedroom, and my female friend was sleeping in my bed, fully clothed. I crawled in beside her and tried to go back to sleep, but I was kind of freaked out by the situation and my lack of memory as to how it came about.
My friend woke up around 4:30. According to her, I had invited her home with me, she had given me a massage, then I got up and fell asleep on the couch. Weird, that is so unlike me. I can see myself falling asleep during a massage but not moving to a very uncomfortable sofa. I can only assume that something happened that I don’t recall, and she isn’t telling me.
Anyway, she said she was ready to go home. I told her to wait a while; it was still dark outside. I offered to make her breakfast, but she insisted she wanted to leave now. It was raining too. I’m not going to make someone stay who doesn’t want to be here, but damn, I never walk these streets in the dark. But off we went, using my phone’s flashlight to provide a little bit of illumination. My unpaved shortcuts were out of the question under these circumstances, so it was a 15-minute walk to the highway. I brought Buddy along too. It wasn’t long before a Jeepney arrived and carried my friend homeward.
So, I brought a woman home, and she slept in my bed. And I didn’t. No sex or cuddling or anything. Well, I guess a massage that I don’t remember at all. And her insistence on leaving under the worst possible circumstances was mind-boggling. Something must have happened, but I have no idea what.
Oh, and she is still chatting with me like everything is cool and nothing has changed. And she sent a message that “next time” she’ll stay all day if I want. Huh? Why would I want there to be a next time when I can’t get my mind around the last time.
Weird shit, huh? I think I may need to recalibrate my plan to convert to gin and soda. Beer never made me lose my mind this way. Maybe having a big belly isn’t the worst option.
Yesterday’s trip took us out to a remote part of San Marcelino known as New Zealand. I’m not sure why. I’ve never been to the actual NZ, but maybe it has a similar appearance. It took us about an hour and a half to get there from Barretto, and the area we hiked was uninhabited–the first time I can remember not seeing any kids around for cookie distribution. Very beautiful though, and a much different landscape than I’m accustomed to seeing in my neck of the woods.
One thing contributing to the uniqueness of the topography is the impact that the eruption of Mount Pinatubo had on this area back in 1991. One of the massive lahar flows created Lake Mapanuepe in the area we visited. We had to cross this lake by Banca boat to reach the campground, where our hike commenced. The only other way you can access this area is with a four-wheel-drive vehicle.
And that’s really the downside of coming here–it’s just too damn difficult to reach. After our long drive, we parked at the lake and arranged for the Banca boat roundtrip to the other side of the lake. When Martin scouted the area last week, he was charged 400 pesos for the ten-minute ride, which is laughably overpriced. Yesterday they wanted 500 pesos for the same trip; I guess the increase was in the “white skin tax” merchants sometimes impose on foreigners. Well, we didn’t have any choice but to pay up, but it put me in a foul mood and soured any thoughts of a return visit. Oh well, that’s the worst that happened on the trip, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.
Hope you enjoy these photos from the adventure:
From a viewpoint on our way to the lake. That’s the river that had its course changed after the eruption of Pinatubo.The valley of the damned.Pinatubo is in that distant mountain range in the background. It doesn’t really stand out, though.Way off on the horizon is the South China Sea.A Filipina with white bread sandwich.A view of me taking a picture of the view.Arriving at the lake.The lake we had to cross to get to the other side.The boats that raped took us.It took two Bancas to get us thereA strategically situated vendor selling fresh buko (coconuts) garnered some business from the Filipinas in our group. They love the juice.Our group for the hike. Brian and Dona (the couple on the right) actually camped out last night. Brian has a 4×4 and was able to transport his gear directly to the campsite.Let’s roll! We did a pleasant 7K jaunt over flat ground.Please don’t eat the mushrooms!My first trip to New Zealand. Didn’t even need my passport.We came to a fork in the road, and we took it.This little puppy followed us from the campground. Poor guy ran out of gas about the 2K mark. Grace adopted him for the remainder of the hike. She named the pup “Hasher.”Water crossing ahead! Easy enough to jump over, though.The flat of the land.Easter mountain’s cousin?Martin says these rocks that cover the valley floor are volcanic. I don’t know, but they did have that look about them.Martin’s turn to carry Hasher.Through the brush……and into the trees.Following a dry riverbed back to camp.We made it!Welcome back home, Hasher.Filipinas doing what Filipinas do. And yes, it involves rice.Found this on the ground under my feet. I’m not sure what message it intended, but I let it lie.
And that was my day in Barretto. I’ll talk about the night in another post.
Greetings from the Philippines. I’ve just returned from a full day of hiking fun out in San Marcelino. And now I’m preparing to run out the door to attend a birthday celebration for Billy, the dart meister at Alley Cats. Just waiting to pull those brownies out of the oven. So, the post about today’s adventure will be here for your enjoyment tomorrow.
In the meantime, here’s a brief report on my yesterday. I started off with an 8K solo hike on my standard route through San Isidro/Subic/Barretto. My trek app sounds off every 1.6 kilometers, and just for shit and giggles, I took a picture when it did.
At 1.6K I was on “Bridge #3” in San Isidro.At 3.2K, I was on a country road in Calapcuan. What was really trippy was that, at that moment, my Spotify playlist was playing the James Taylor song of the same name. What are the odds?At 4.8, I was on the National Highway and heading for home.Look who I ran into at 6.4K on the Subic side of the river. That gal sure does get around.The river view at 6.4KAnd then I was back home at just under 8K.
Relive it all here if you’d like:
Before heading out for the evening, I enjoyed a bowl of my chili con carne with some freshly baked cornbread.
I thought it was good and my helper agreed, so there’s that.
Another beerless night at It Doesn’t Matter and Wet Spot.
Didn’t see any pussy, though.
Brownies are done, and I got to run.
See you tomorrow!
Take to the highway, won't you lend me your name?
Your way and my way seem to be one and the same.
Mamma don't understand it, she wants to know where I've been.
I'd have to be some kind of natural born fool to want to pass that way again,
But I could feel it on a country road.
Another typical day in the life. A nice hike with the Wednesday Walkers group (pictures to follow), being a substitute in dart league, and ending the night with a Barretto bar crawl. Does it get any better than that? Yeah, I can think of some ways, but it is what it is, and I’m living large, so why complain?
I was a little perturbed at being asked to play in the dart league match. Yeah, I had agreed at the end of last season to be a substitute, but now it seems like an unwarranted intrusion on my freedom to do what I want when I want to do it. Three is the minimum to play a match, and my former team has three players without me. One of them is currently visiting in the USA, so I’m expecting a call again next week. I did make it clear that they need to find a replacement. Anyway, I hadn’t played darts since my “retirement” last month, and I had to play with a set of darts I don’t like, so I wasn’t expecting much performance-wise. I didn’t throw well, but I wasn’t as horrible as I thought I might be. And we won the match 13-0 against an admittedly weak opponent. Apparently, that was the first time “our” team had ever accomplished that feat. Maybe it will be a last for me as well.
Nothing special about the beerless bar crawl. Started at Hideaway, where I bought Joy and the girls some of those big-ass tacos from the Coffee Shop for dinner. I moved on from there to Cheap Charlies. Regular Rose wasn’t working, and my other regular, Marilou, was occupied with another customer. No biggie, I got a back rub from one gal and sat with another girl who’d never heard my jokes before, so that was a win. I finished the night at Kamto, where I enjoyed a chicken sandwich and some convo before heading home. I was a little drunker than I prefer having started at two in the afternoon, another reason I don’t like playing in the dart league.
Today marks the end of the first week of my reduced calorie/increased exercise program. Coincidentally, Facebook reminded me that it was four years ago today that I finally achieved the weight loss milestone I had been striving for for over two years.
As I recall, I started at 265. I think I made it down to 195 before laziness complacency set in.
Anyway, this morning I weighed in at 210.6, down almost three pounds from where I started last week at 213.4. I’m not sure that rate of loss is sustainable, but I deem it a good start.
A few shots from the Wednesday hike:
We started with a step climb. About a hundred of ’em.This good boy was urging us on, barking out, “NO SHORTCUTS!”Made it up……then headed back down.Road workThe first cookie recipients on the day.The requisite group shot.Out in the country.One more up.It was nice to see my mountain mama friend, Olivia.Who can spot the hikers up ahead?Another cookie delivery.Time to head back down.The last of the down.The joy of the flatlands.On to Marian Hills…And up to Alta Vista.There she is.
Got a road trip hike/cookout coming up in the morning. Always nice to see something new. And to have something different to share with my faithful few readers. See you tomorrow!
Shopping day, and even week to week I can see the inflationary impact on groceries, especially anything imported. On the other hand, I’m getting 55 pesos to the dollar; that’s the highest I’ve seen since I first started coming to the Philippines back in 2008. The lowest I’ve seen is 43, and I hope I never see that rate of exchange again.
After shopping, I had some lunch at Sit-n-Bull:
The roast beef dip is what my stomach cried out for. With a side of cole slaw.
Facebook reminded me that it was four years ago when I got the call my lost Buddy had been found after going missing three days earlier:
He’s been a good boy ever since!
I also came across this photo on Facebook and got a good chuckle:
A nice depiction of what retired life in the Philippines can be like for us old fat fuckers.
I seem to be walking a different path, though. This TikTok video posted on the Althouse blog spoke to me in ways that seemed eerily responsive to my thoughts about whether I’m destined to die alone:
I guess there are worse fates. Oddly enough, when I woke up this morning, I had a song in my head called “The Loner.” It’s from Neil Young’s debut solo album released in 1969 (I was 14 then, if you are keeping track) and it was far from my favorite song on that record. In fact, I haven’t thought of it or heard it played in decades. Why I thought of it this morning is a mystery. Maybe I shouldn’t read too much into it.
There was a woman he knew
About a year or so ago
She had something that he needed
And he pleaded with her not to go
On the day that she left
He died but it did not show
Know when you see him
Nothing can free him
Step aside, open wide
It's the loner
Perhaps that’s my fate, but then again, everything can change in a New York minute.
Moving on, I may be alone, but I have a life, and part of that life involves drinking. I figured I’d spend at least a portion of my Tuesday evening on Baloy Beach. Last time I was out there at McCoy’s, they told me they didn’t have soda water. So on my way to the beach, I popped into 7/11 to buy a couple of cans, but they were sold out. Damn, well, I’m right next door to the Snackbar, and I know they have soda water, so I went in to get a couple to go. My friend was there and invited me to stay, but there was a Dick sitting outside, so I took a pass.
When I got to McCoy’s, the bartender pulled my regular beer out of the fridge, but I told her, “no, just give me a shot of gin. I brought my own soda.” She gave me a funny look and said we don’t have gin. I pointed at the bottle on the shelf, and she explained that is only sold by the bottle, not a drink. Ah yeah, the Filipino style is for a group of friends to buy a whole bottle and take turns doing shots. I should have known better. Well, I wasn’t going to break my diet, so I gave my soda water to the bartender and headed on up the beach to Johan’s.
I was the only customer in the place, and even a loner can be bored (it’s a regular bar, no bargirls). After a couple of drinks, I sent a message to my friend asking if the Dick was still at Snackbar. She said “yes, but he’s outside. Come inside and sit with me.” It seemed like my best option, so I walked on over.
I didn’t say anyting to the Dick when I walked inside. Sat down, ordered up my gin and soda, and chatted with my friend and her lovely staff of waitresses. Before too long, a couple of them started goofing around and dancing.
Having fun inside.Let me show you how we dance in Arkansas!Me giving Lydell a twirl on video.Check it out if you dare!
Anyway, as you can see, we were all having a good time. Inside at least. I don’t know what triggered it, but something happened, and the next thing I know, my friend was out in the parking lot yelling at the Dick. He wound up running away. When she came back in, she said he had been bad mouthing her to other customers. And not just her, one of the waitress played me a recording she had made of him trash talking about me. Of course, he didn’t have the balls to say anything to my face. A real Dick move. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with the guy, but he clearly has issues. He was bragging to people a few days ago about being engaged. Why he would care about me spending time with the woman who rejected him is a mystery. I don’t really give a shit, though. Just someone I’ll continue to avoid whenever possible.
Anyway, we didn’t let it cool our buzz. I had ordered food for the staff from Kamto and it arrived shortly after the incident, and we all chowed down. When the food was gone, I finished my drink and headed home for my 9 p.m. bedtime.
And there you have a snapshot from my so-called life.
I made some poor choices yesterday, including the one to attend the Hash. Nothing against the Hash; it’s just that the first pool party in over three years was being held at Treasure Island during the same time frame. Well, I’ve got something like 130 consecutive Hash runs, and I wasn’t ready to break my streak just to look at sexy girls in bikinis. But I shouldn’t have been so quick to ignore the fact that Vienna Sausage (Guenter) was the Hare. No one to blame but myself for the subsequent misery.
The trail began at the end of Rizal Extension. There’s no easy way to get there, and now that the Hashmobile is deceased, we were on our own to reach the starting point. Of course, walking is one method of transport, but it’s a long hard slog uphill. In fact, it is so steep that some trikes don’t have the power to reach the top. From my house, the shortest path is to go over the mountain via the My Bitch trail, and that’s what I did. It took me a hard forty-five minutes to reach my destination, and I was hot and tired when I arrived.
And then the fun began. Vienna described the trail as “6K with a few humps.” It felt much longer than that, and those humps equated to four hard climbs and steep downhills. Not to be completely negative, it was mostly new territory for me, and that’s something I usually enjoy. The problem was I wasn’t familiar enough with the area to be able to discern a saner course of action by shortcutting.
After the first hard up and slippery down (there was a light rain falling early on), we came to a decision point–climb again or take a flat route on the streets to the On-Home venue (also Vienna’s house). Half the sane group took the easy way, but I stubbornly chose to go on, thinking I’d shortcut from up top if needed. That choice proved to be ill-advised. After another tough uphill slog, the trail almost immediately turned back down. My visions of finding a shortcut were misguided, so I had no choice but to plod onward. And what awaited me at the bottom was yet another climb to the top. And guess what? Yep, the trail once again descended. Nope. Not me. I had a pretty good idea that if I continued upward just a little bit more, I’d intersect with My Bitch. Turns out I was right about that. From there, I knew where I could pick up the trail again without any more ups and downs.
And that’s how it turned out. I was one of the last Hashers to reach Vienna’s house, and I was soaked in sweat and in a decidedly foul mood. Again, this is all on me. The Hare has every right to lay a path of his choosing, and I can choose to follow it or not. My inability to recognize viable alternative routes early on is my failure. I won’t be sucked in with talk of “humps” in the future. Lesson learned.
I had three San Mig Zeros before the beginning of the Hash circle and then was informed that there were no more Zeros in the ice chest. I switched to SML (twice the alcohol and twice the calories), had one, said “fuck it,” and made an early departure from the Hash. So yeah, I only had four beers all night. I went to Kamto for some grub and switched to gin and sodas.
Alright, now that I have all that off my chest, let’s go to the pictures.
I guess a lot of ups and downs are to be expected when you are getting fucked.The “sane” group gathers at the end of Rizal Extension. A couple had the good fortune to arrive in trikes. Others that had caught a trike had the trike driver refuse to proceed past the halfway up point. The rest of us walked.This dicey bridge was the first obstacle we encountered.The worst part was half the planks were rotted out. Choose your steps carefully!A rare moment of serenity in the woods.Look at me go!Keep a watchful eye on us, oh sacred Easter mountain.A rare encounter with flatness.This big-ass old tree had chosen to die and block our path.I took the low road.Follow me; these hills ain’t going to climb themselves!One down ends, another up begins.Up top again. But not for long.Decision time. Another climb or a long flat walk around? Half went up; half went long.Cookies for the kids.It’s a hard life out here.Feeling bamboo-zledOnwardAnd upward.The grass is high, and so are we. But not in the good way.I’ll take that as a good sign!Another cookie delivery.Finally! The familiar confines of Barretto. One more down, and we are there at last.My first beer in four days was the reward for all that hard work on trail.My 4th of July dinner–surf and turf. Or a prawn and some chicken. When you are hungry, it doesn’t matter.And so ends a bitchy, whiny, selfish Hash post. I’ll do better in the future.
So, let’s conclude with something positive–I’ve got a new plan to cut out drinking:
Since I completed my review of the Barretto bar scene back in December, several new venues have opened. So, over the next few weeks, I’ll be adding them to the list. One of the previously reviewed bars, Finger Monkey, has closed. That was my least favorite bar because I believed the owner was exploiting her workers. Well, the place got raided and shut down. I heard the owner is in jail. I feel bad about that. Karma probably overreacted in this case.
Anyway, we are here to talk about the Snackbar. It’s a tiny little place in the 7/11 strip mall at the National Highway and Baloy Beach Road intersection.
I’m not sure about the name. There is no kitchen, but food is available from the Kamto location. Some of us call the place “snatchbar” and the sister operation “cameltoe,” but then we are a bunch of perverted fucks.They do feature daily specials, and their beer is the cheapest in town.Three or four small tables on the sidewalk outside.A bar and a couple of small tables inside.And that’s all there is to the place. Cozy, you might say.
What makes Snackbar work is the friendly staff and a local expat hangout vibe. I’ll sometimes stop in on my way back from hanging out on Baloy or as the last stop after a night in Barretto. The girls are primarily waitresses, but they won’t turn down an offered lady drink.
With the limited volume their seating allows and the low beer prices, I’m not sure how (or if) they are making a profit. But it is a nice addition to the bar community as long as it lasts.
Good luck to you, Miss Paula.
It Doesn’t Matter
Cheap Charlies
Snackbar
Mango’s Beach Bar
Alley Cats
Wet Spot
BarCelona
Adam’s
Blue Butterfly
Out Back Billabong
Dynamite Dick’s
Palm Tree
Hideaway
Hot Zone
Alaska Club
The Green Room
Thumbstar
Bottoms Up
Rosies
Rock Lobster
Queen Victoria
Voodoo
Annex
MacArthur’s
Redz Pub
Whiskey Girl
I am going to need to update these rankings as well. Things change, and not always for the better. Once I finish adding the new bars, I’ll plan to revisit the others and rank them according to current circumstances.
Why, yes. Yes, it is! Let’s see if I can prove those who believe ‘something is better than nothing’ wrong.
Let me begin by wishing my fellow Americans a Happy Independence Day.
Don’t tread on me!
Started my evening at Hideaway Bar and had a pizza delivered for the girls. Maintained my beer-free program for the third straight day. Today is Hash Monday which is my automatic cheat day, so beer is on tap for later. Well, not on tap, in bottles, but you know what I mean.
Doing the gin with the full can of soda water seems to be the right combo. Slows my drinking down and dilutes the gin. Win-win!
Finished the night at Kamtu and had a nice chat with my friend, the owner. I’ll soon be adding a review of her other place, Snackbar, to the Bars of Barretto series.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!The science is settled!
Other than my routine Monday walk on Baloy, there’s nothing else to report this morning.
Life’s a beach sometimes.
I don’t know why, but this cracked me up:
I’m not as smart as I once was, but I’m as dumb now as I ever was.
Anyway, that’s it for this worthless post. At least I’ll be able to do a Hash post tomorrow. Stick around!
My view as I headed out for my Saturday evening. Didn’t need an umbrella this time.
Day 2 of the no-beer lifestyle is in the books. I did better at managing my intake of gin as well, and although I had a nice buzz going, I didn’t do anything stupid like spend 3500 pesos on lady drinks. That’s progress!
Two drinks at It Doesn’t Matter along with some nice chat with Max the Dutchman. He and a couple of others had burgers at IDM, but I decided to visit Sit-n-Bull for my evening meal.
The Maui chicken burger with ham was my choice, and I did not regret it.
After a couple more drinks at the Snackbar, I called it a night and took a trike home. Yeah, my life is just oozing excitement these days. Sorry!
My regular Sunday stroll this morning.This was the most interesting I saw on my hike. He’s croaked for the last time, I’m afraid.
I weighed in after my hike and registered a 211.7. Down a couple of pounds from where I started, but it could be the water weight I sweated off during my walk. Still, it’s a move in the right direction, so I ain’t complaining.
My view as I headed out for the night. Yes, I carried an umbrella. And somewhat surprisingly, I still had it with me when I arrived home.Beer consumption on the night was zero. Alcohol intake exceeded the limits of sobriety.
It’s going to be an adjustment to learn to pace myself when drinking gin. One idea I have is to have the can of soda served along with a tall glass with one shot of gin. Then I can keep refilling the glass as I drink, diluting the strength of the gin and making each serving last longer. I did this over the course of the three hours I was in attendance at the SOB and did relatively well. I still need to slow down some, but I’ll learn my limit soon.
I had some cash flow issues again. I couldn’t find an ATM with cash left to dispense. I don’t normally have a problem keeping cash on hand. I do a 40,000 peso pull once a week when I go grocery shopping, and that carries me through. This week I had some unusual expenses and was down to only 3000 pesos when I started my Friday night out. Entrance to the SOB costs 700, and I had dinner for me and Aine delivered from Sit-n-Bull, so I was running nearly on empty after that. Luckily, the SOB was at Wet Spot, and they accept credit cards so I was able to keep Aine plied with lady drinks throughout the show.
My drinking companion for the evening.
Near the end of the SOB, I got a message from my friend at Kamto resto-bar. She said my friend Johnny was there and I should come to entertain them with my Spotify playlists. I mentioned my shortage of funds, and she said I could run a tab and pay tomorrow. So, that’s what I did. You know, I’m a generous guy, and apparently, gin triggers me to be extra generous. When I stopped by to pay my tab today, I was surprised that I had spent over 3600 pesos last night at Kamto, mostly on lady drinks. I think that might be a record for me in one bar.
I also bought this mug with the proceeds going to help defray the hospital expenses of accident victim Mike. It’s really been touching to see the community’s efforts to help this expat in a time of need.
My walk mission this morning was to head into Subic-town and restock my cash supply at the BPI ATM. It’s a little over a 5K hike to get there, and I also intended to walk back. This belly ain’t going away unless I force it to by bumping up my step count. So, two birds, one stone kind of thing. Except when I arrived at the ATM, this is what I saw:
Holy shit. There must have been twenty people lined up ahead of me. And only one of the two ATMs was operational. I figured odds were good the money would run out before my turn came. I finally said fuck it and continued my walk up the highway another 2K to Waltermart. There was a functioning BDO machine there and no line. I can only make a max withdrawal of 10,000 at BDO, but it was good to have money in my wallet again.
I took a Jeepney ride back to Barretto. After paying my tab at Kamto, my cash level was once again beneath my comfort level. Then I remembered I had forgotten to pay my helper yesterday, so I wired some extra to her to give me via Western Union, and now I’m once again able to do my Saturday night in style. Ain’t life grand?
In unrelated news, this cracked me up. I don’t nose why.
Alright, here are a few photos from the Friday hike. We were calling it an umbrella walk because it had been raining all morning. But once we got started, we never had to open our umbrellas. It didn’t rain again until we were having lunch at Kamto. The rain gods were smiling upon us, that’s for sure.
We walked from Barretto to Waltermart the back way. As fate would have it, I was destined to walk back to Waltermart today via the highway.Let’s do this!The first part of the walk was on the National highway.How high’s the water, mama?Sawmill road in Santo TomasNext we passed through San Isidro.The carnival doesn’t look too appealing after the rain.Continuing up Sawmill towards Naugsol.On the streets of Naugsol.Martin and me.Me alone.The view across the valley.The view of Easter mountain.The view of Reylyn and Jezebel.Making the most of what you have.A group shot of the umbrella walkers.Welcome to the Philippines.On the Subic bypass highway.Coming into Subic town.Heading for the Jeepneys.Riding the Jeep to Barretto.Lunchtime at Kamto.
And that, my friends, brings you up to date. Now it’s time for me to exercise.
And so it begins, the first day of my new life. It will be much like the old life but with less beer, healthier eating, and additional exercise. I weighed in today at 213.4, and I want to get under 200 again. The real goal though is reducing a beer belly that makes me look eight months pregnant. I feel like a picture of me must have been circulated that started this whole ‘men can have babies’ lie. Sorry for that!
Started the morning with a good long group walk on the backroads out to Waltermart in Subic. I’ll post those pics tomorrow. As is our custom, the after-hike food and beverages were at Kamto.
My hike mates had beer. I drank a Coke Light–zero calories, zero carbs.I had a quesadilla for lunch. Well, 3/4 of one.
Came home and took a quick nap, then started a new workout routine.
Focusing on my abs mostly.
We’ll know soon enough if I have the self-discipline to keep this up and reach my goals. Stay tuned.
I took advantage of my last night as a “free” man to engage in some serious beer drinking. Started at IDM, where the weekly raffle was to raise funds for Mike, the guy who got hit by a car last week.
I was happy to buy 24 tickets for this worthy cause.
Reports I’ve read say that Mike seems to be making slow but steady progress. He still can’t speak or move his left side but is responsive to voices and will give a thumbs up to visitors. He’s got a long road ahead of him, but from everything I’ve heard, this Marine is not one to give up. Good luck to you, sir!
Later on, I spent some time with my favorites at Cheap Charlies. It’s nice to have fun in that bar again. I had more than enough beers by the time I headed home. I guess I’ll be missing those days soon.
But life goes on, and this is Friday, and today the SOB will be held at Wet Spot. I’ll be there drinking gin and sodas and hoping I can pace myself so as to make it through the show.
