Not quite paradise

Went to sleep in Paradise and woke up this morning in Paradise, but things just aren’t quite right here anyway. Still no power at the house, which is making my final preparations for the trip a lot more complicated. My e-visa for entry to Cambodia arrived by email, but I can’t print it out. Same with my onward ticket for my expected return to this lovely land. Hopefully, I’ll have power restored at some point today.

It’s Hash Monday, and it is still windy and rainy outside. I’m going to show up, but I don’t think I’m going to tempt fate by leaving the pavement today. This will be my 156th consecutive run with the SBH3, and that streak ends after this week. I hope I never have anything approaching that number again–I need to get back to my original retirement plan of traveling every three months or so. Although preparing for this trip has been such a pain in the ass that I may have to rethink whether the joy of getting away is worth it. I’m sure it will get easier when it becomes more routine.

Speaking of Cambodia, there’s a website I’ve been following for several years called Stickman Bangkok. As the name implies, it focuses on expat life in Bangkok specifically and Thailand in general. And yes, most of that focus is on the bar scene. So, it was somewhat surprising to see this entry regarding Phnom Penh today:

Across the border in Cambodia, Phnom Penh has always been known as an edgy place and for some, that’s part of the attraction. At the same time it always felt like if you were street-smart and didn’t do anything stupid then you should be ok. Word is that things have changed a bit – there is more street crime including pickpockets, and even muggings. A Bangkok bar manager who recently spent time in Cambodia was surprised when hotel staff suggested he take a tuk-tuk after dark and urged him not to walk alone at night. They also said he should carry no more cash than he needs for that night and leave valuables in his hotel room. (The first thing I thought when I heard that is that they’re setting you up to rip you off themselves!) They also said that if you must take your mobile phone, keep a close eye on it and don’t put it down on a bar table or counter top, lest it be snatched. And if you’re using your mobile phone, be aware of your surroundings. Some folks have had their fancy phone snatched while they were using it, the junkie who snatched it dashing away like Usain Bolt, never to be seen again. He was also told to consider avoiding the night market, dark streets and especially to keep an eye out for junkies. It doesn’t end there. Apparently there is a scam in the $5 massage shops where punters claim their money is switched to fake dollar notes while they’re in the middle of a massage. This is a problem in the cheaper places and not in the bigger, better, more upmarket massage outlets / spas. It should be noted that Cambodia has stopped dealing in $1, $2, $5 bills so you get lumbered with the local currency, Riel, in change. To be clear, these smaller denominations are all still accepted if you have them, but don’t expect to receive them back in change. Word is that Phnom Penh was actually safer in the early, so-called dodgy days. It’s not just visitors but locals who are victims. That’s when you know it’s bad. If you visit Phnom Penh at this time, keep a very close eye on your valuables.

That’s not exactly inspiring news. Still, it’s a good reminder to maintain situational awareness wherever you are. On my previous trip to PP a few years ago, a masseuse I brought back to my room stole $100 from my pocket while I was taking a shower (that she suggested). Life’s lessons can be harsh at times, but that’s the price of an education.

So, my last night on the town in Barretto for a while went down like this:

I baked brownies (luckily, I have a gas stove) and bought some takeout food from the Jewel restaurant (lasagna, chicken wings, chicken fingers) for the Hideaway girls.

Joy getting her bite on.
The Hideaway girls were in costume. This is Joy being a witch.

After Hideaway, I paid a visit to the lobby of the Paradise hotel, located between Wet Spot and Sit-n-Bull. It’s a small place, with, I think, eight rooms upstairs above the bar. I had stayed there briefly once or twice before. I had a 50% discount coupon for a room there, and given the uncertainty of the power being restored, I decided to hedge my bets by having a room to retreat to if necessary. The problem was there was no one behind the counter and no one to ask about a booking. Wet Spot wasn’t open yet, so I went to The Green Room. My waitress didn’t know anything about it but went to see what she could find out. A few minutes later, she came back with a room key. Talk about service!

Once Wet Spot opened, I went to pay the cashier there for the room. With my discount, it came to a whopping 650 pesos ($12). So, with my insurance secured, I headed down the highway to Snackbar to help Anne celebrate her birthday.

When I arrived at Snackbar, it was lit by candlelight (it’s on the same power grid as my house), but right as I sat down, the lights came on. Naturally, I took credit for the restoration of power. I checked with my domestic helper to confirm my house was also lit, and she said the lights had come back on, and then she heard a transformer explode, and things went dark again. Just my luck.

Anne and her cake from me.
Part of the party crowd. Snackbar was packed again last night.
Jenn is on the left, and Lydell is on the right. I sensed some tension between these two (I was buying them both drinks). Could be I’ll have to pick one or the other to share my affections.

When it was time to depart, I took a trike home and had him wait while I gathered up my laptop, phone charger, and a change of clothes. Then he triked me back to the Paradise hotel. I set about plugging everything in to recharge and discovered that my laptop has a three-pronged plug, and I had neglected to bring the adapter. Then I noticed the airconditioner had a three-prong recepticle. And now I know the internet is more important to me than cool air. It was also a good reminder to pack my universal plug adapters–I don’t recall what the outlets take in Cambodia.

With my electronics being restored to life, I decided to venture downstairs for some more beers entertainment. I wanted to reward the waitress at The Green Room for helping to secure my room, so that’s what I did with lady drinks and a pizza for her and her co-workers to enjoy.

If a Filipina is doing the ordering, it is almost always going to be a pineapple-laden Hawaiian pizza. It was good, though.

Then it was back upstairs to sleep it all off and hope for a better day to come. Alas, it was still blowing rain this morning.

Looking up the highway from my balcony…
And looking down the road. At least my breakfast venue was right next door.
It had been quite some time since I enjoyed some French toast with a sausage side.

After my meal, I packed up my belongings and got a trike home, only to discover the power was (and still is) out. Not a damn thing I can do about it, though.

Everything I’d hoped to get done today will have to wait. I’m sure I’ll be in no condition for anything but sleep after the Hash, even if the power has been restored. My flight tomorrow is at 10 p.m., and my driver will pick me up for Manila at 3:00. It’s All Saints Day, and I’m sure Manila traffic will be worse than normal, but I should have plenty of time to jump through whatever hoops lay ahead. Wish me luck!

Blowing it

Another tropical storm passed through last night and is still active today. Which has made me inactive. Too wet and wild for walking, and the power went out a few hours ago. So, I’ve been lazing on the couch with the sliding glass doors wide open, watching the trees dance in the wind and letting Mother Nature blow me.

It looked like this.

Last night saw me filling in the hours in the usual way. I started out at IDM and had a nice visit with my pal Chris over a couple of beers. The waitress crew has apparently figured out that I’m not inclined to buy lady drinks there anymore–good service but not friendly or chatty these days. That’s okay; you get what you pay for.

My next stop was Cheap Charlies, and I had my usual gals there happy to keep me company in exchange for lady drinks. I was hungry, so I bought some food (chicken fingers, lumpia, and pancit) in a large enough quantity to share with most of the girls. I didn’t stay long there, though, because I had promised my Whiskey Girl girl that I would attend their Halloween party last night.

That’s “my girl” Jen.
The costumed staff on stage.
I deemed this the creepiest costume–it struck me that she wasn’t trying to hide her true nature.
Who knew they had nuns in hell?
The mamasan is still hot for an older gal. I bet she fucks like a bunny! *ahem*
I hope you feel better soon.
This one was my waitress.

Anyway, as you can see, Halloween is a big deal in these parts, and the girls really seem to get into the whole costume thing. Nice seeing them have some fun at work.

When I left Whiskey Girl, I was planning on heading home, but there were no trikes waiting in the usual locations. So, I walked to the trike stand at the 7/11, and seeing as how I was right there at Snackbar; I popped in for a nightcap. It was as busy as I’ve ever seen them, and it got even busier during my visit. So busy, in fact, that I started feeling claustrophobic inside, so I retreated to one of the few remaining open seats at an outdoor table.

See what I mean?

Once I sat down, Jenn (what is with all the Jens and Joys in my bar life?) pulled up a chair to join me.

She didn’t want her picture taken at first…
…but then she took one of us together.

My other favorite, Lydell, I had left inside when I was fleeing the crowd.

I didn’t notice until I looked at my photos this morning that she had come outside, maybe looking for me. Based on her expression, it could be she wasn’t happy to see me drinking with Jenn.

Actually, I enjoy them both, and since I’m buying the drinks, I don’t have to choose. Which is good because I’m not sure who I’d pick. I appreciate that Lydell comes hiking with us, though. And I’d really love to see more of Jenn, if you get my meaning. Oh well, that’s part of the fantasy life in my retirement town. None of it is real.

Speaking of crowds, I’m sure my readers have heard about the tragedy last night in my old hometown of Itaewon in Seoul. Halloween weekend has always been huge there, and frankly, I’ve walked the street where the stampede took place on a Halloween long ago and swore I’d neve do so again. Last night was the first post-scamdemic gathering, and I understand the crowds were even larger than normal. ROK Drop has a post with several chilling videos of the nightmare if you can stomach them.

I checked on my nephew Justin and several of my friends who still live in the area, and thankfully, they are all okay. Justin said he was in Itaewon but stayed safely inside of my old hangout, Shenanigans, all night. That’s how I used to roll too.

My last Halloween in Itaewon was in 2016 with my then-sweetheart, Eun Oke, at Shenanigans.

Shit, my laptop battery is about to go! Gotta run. Hopefully, the the power is restored here soon!

SOBoween

My big daytime accomplishment (in addition to TWO posts here at LTG) was securing permission from the Philippines government to depart this lovely land next week.

I shall be released.

Then the time for the weekly SOB dance competition rolled around. Last night was a special event for Halloween, and it was announced that the dancers and customers were encouraged to dress up for the occasion.

I did as I was told and dug through the closet for my suit. Turns out, that wasn’t what was meant by “dressing up.” Who knew?
It was like I had a hole in my head or something. Anyway, the gal I’m standing with in the previous photo had a make-up kit and helped me look a little scarier than normal.
But my neighbor Jack took the prize for the best customer costume.
And very well-deserved. Great job!

It was by far the best SOB I’ve attended in a long time. Most of the girls went all-out in creating some nifty costumes, and they were also very creative in doing Halloween-themed dance routines.

You remember my pal Joy from Alaska Club, right?
Never bought a lady drink for a gal that looked like her before!
Good times!

Another late (for me) night, but other than peeing my pants in the trike coming home, I was no worse for wear.

Today I applied for my e-visa to Cambodia and booked a hotel room for the first two nights in Phnom Penh. I’ll look around and see where I want to spend the rest of the week once I get there.

It was raining this morning, so I just did a neighborhood walk.

Some of every street except one. I’ll need to adjust accordingly next time.

Looks like it’s gonna be a rainy Saturday night in Barretto. I guess I’ll have to think of some indoor activity I can engage in to pass the time. Hmm, maybe I’ll visit a bar!

UPDATE: Photos of last night’s winners:

Third Place: Voodoo
Second Place: Alaska Club
First Place: Wet Spot

A powerless walk

Yesterday we experienced a scheduled power outage, what the locals call a brownout. The lights went out at 0800 and weren’t due to be restored until 4:00 p.m. (they actually didn’t come back on until almost 4:30). The brownout covered parts of Barretto and all of Subic, so both Scott and I suffered from the impact. We decided to meet up and enjoy some sweaty exercise rather than spend the time in sweaty misery. Since it was just the two of us, we figured we could head out and see some rarely-seen sights. We considered San Antonio but ultimately hopped on a bus for San Marcelino. The last time we’d been out this way was in 2020. We usually do a 6 to 8K hike, but circumstances resulted in a longish 10K jaunt. Mostly flat and a little hot but enjoyable enough to be worth the effort.

A point of reference for where in the hell we were going. Also, note the location of Mt. Pinatubo.
The path we walked.
On the bus, about a 40-minute ride.
The bus we took was one small step up from a Jeepney. Going back, we had an aircon Victory Liner, much nicer ride.
We exited the bus at the San Marcelino town market.
Most towns have a marketplace like this, but I rarely have the opportunity to walk through one.
Some of these fish were still flopping around.
Heading out of town.
We encountered one of the friendly locals. Wanted to chat and take a photo with us.
Some pleasant scenery along the way.
We also passed by several local resorts like this one.
The lonely road we followed for almost 5K.
We finally achieved our objective–the dike along the lahar-filled San Marcelino river.
There is a town on the other side of the river named Santa Fe. During much of the year, you have to wade across the river to get there.
Definitely, some different landscape than I’m used to seeing back home.
The dust from passing vehicles was a little annoying, though.
All these years after the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo, they are still harvesting lahar from the river bed.
There’s a zoom shot of the volcano that last erupted in 1991.
A small village on the other side of the dike.
Off the dike and into the flatlands.
We took a wrong turn that led us to a dead end. Oh well, that’s part of exploring.
And it gave us the chance to interact with some of the local folks and observe how they live.
Back on track and walking through an agricultural university campus. Who knew so many hot coeds wanted to be farmers someday?
Way out in the countryside.
Scott in the middle of a cashew tree grove.
Life goes on. Indeed it does!
Down, beast!
The final steps of our journey.
We lunched at the SnV resto-bar.
I ordered the deluxe burger without realizing it came with an egg on top. Didn’t taste anything like the ‘eggaburgers’ I enjoyed in Korea, but still good for a hungry hiker.
We took a trike back to the highway and waited here for a bus. Wasn’t long before we were on our way back to Barretto.

What could have been a shitty day turned out to be a good one. I’ve already posted about the bar crawl, so give it a read if you missed it.

This bar crawl was a real SOB

A promise made, a promise kept. I finally got around to documenting a Barretto bar crawl, the first of what I anticipate will be several “themed” adventures in exploring the various drinking establishments here in my little town. My motivation for last night’s adventure was this tiny scrap piece of paper:

My mission: Use this coupon to the max prior to its expiration (which was midnight). There are seven SOB bars. My plan was to do two beers (for the price of one) in each bar, then move on to the next until I had hit them all. That makes for fourteen beers, all told. Would I still be standing? Only one way to find out.

Because of a day-long power outage, I was getting a later start than normal. I usually leave the house around four, but it was nearly six o’clock before I headed out last night.

The view as I began my walk into town. It was completely dark by the time I reached the highway.
I still need to work on my map-making skills. For the purposes of this bar crawl, I hope my crude numbering of the bars will suffice.

I began my “crawl” at the junction of the National Highway and Baloy Beach road. I turned on my Map My Walk app, thinking that would show the distances between bars (they are all located on the highway). Unfortunately, that map came out looking like this:

I guess I needed to pause the tracker when I was sitting in the bar drinking. I’m not sure why it freaked out so much inside the bars; maybe the dancers made it go crazy. The time is accurate, though; it took me right at three and a half hours to complete my mission.

Anyway, the entire distance between all the bars was only around 1K. Every bar except one were on the same side of the highway, so I didn’t have to play frogger too much. I did the first three bars in the order I passed them on the street. Then I went to the most distant remaining venue and worked my way back to others. Enough about logistics; let’s get crawling!

Bar #1: Queen Victoria
The friendliest gal in the place!

They do have bargirls here, but they are not aggressive. I usually just sit at the bar and never even get approached. That’s fine with me. My favorite, TinTin, hasn’t been around my last few visits. The male bartender is friendly and provides prompt service, so no complaints there.

It’s a good venue for darts, although I no longer play.
They also have a pool table if that’s your thing.

Queen Vic’s claim to fame is that they feature live bands several nights a week. That’s not an attraction for me personally, but they have a nice setup for those who do:

I can hear just fine from my seat at the bar; thank you very much.

I understand that on weekends after the bands are done, they do a disco routine that lasts until four in the morning. Heh, I’m not into the disco scene, and I’m NEVER awake during those hours, but it’s the only disco in town, and I reckon it’s a good venue for meeting freelancers (the bargirls from around town that come get discounted drinks).

Bar #2: Whiskey Girl

Whiskey Girl is located almost directly across the highway from Queen Vic. Be careful when crossing!

This bar has a pool table as well.
And a stage with dancers, some of them were actually quite cute.
The view from my seat.
And the view of my favorite waitress.

I always enjoy the music here, especially now that I sit further away from the stage. I was the only customer during my brief visit, but it was still relatively early.

Back across the highway, and maybe a one-block walk, is the Alaska Club.

Bar #3: Alaska Club

Alaska is one of my sentimental favorites, it being the first bar I visited in the Philippines back in its Angeles City iteration.

Owner Jerry always welcomes his guests with a hearty greeting. I was also the only customer here last night.
Alaska is one of town’s most active pool venues, offering tournaments and league play several days a week.
And dancers for those who prefer that kind of entertainment.
Joy is my favorite Alaska dancer.
Always fun to chat with. Looks like we are both having a great time, doesn’t it?

Next, I walked up the highway about half a kilometer to visit Voodoo.

Bar #4: Voodoo

I rarely patronize this bar except when it hosts the SOB. It’s a small venue and only offers dancers and bar girls for entertainment. They have a pretty decent lineup of girls, but photography is not allowed, so you’ll need to check them out on your own.

Well, this gal posed with me, so there you go.
And, of course, my “regular” gal latched on to me as soon as I was through the door. She might be one of the oldest working girls in town, but she is actually very nice to sit with.

Walking back up the highway towards Baloy, maybe a hundred yards from Voodoo is the Hot Zone.

Bar #5: Hot Zone

Once again, I was the only customer. They had eight attractive dancers on stage, and I couldn’t help but think about what a hard job it must be to be an entertainer with no one to entertain.

As you can tell, I turned off my flash so I could discreetly snap some picks The girls in the bars tend to be shy about being photographed.

I felt sorry for the dancers and wanted to recognize their contribution to making the world a more beautiful place, so I handed out 50 peso notes to everyone on stage. There is a certain amount of pressure when you are the only best customer in the place.

The waitress brought me these which I took as a sign that they thought I must be nuts.

Yeah, those beers were beginning to kick in, but I was only half a block away from my next bar.

Bar #6: The Green Room

To my surprise, the place was packed. I was thinking it was just a slow night in town, but I guess folks were just in a Green Room frame of mind. One of the waitresses asked me “what are you doing here? It’s already nine o’clock.” Yes, my habits are well known to some in this little town.

I got a seat by the pool table and enjoyed watching the action.
The Green Room is one of two SOB bars that do not have dancers on stage (the other is Queen Victoria). They do employ numerous GROs (guest relations officers) and waitresses.

The also have a couple of gals that do back and shoulder massages. One of them I used before wanted to give one to me, and I said sure. But when I tried to take her picture she declined. That pissed me off a little, so I said, no picture, no massage. Yeah, I can be a bit of dick when I’ve had too much to drink.

I rather fancy this waitress, but I don’t interest her at all. Oh, well.

Time to move on, and my next and last stop was right next door. Didn’t even have to leave the building.

Bar #7: Wet Spot

It was also quite full of customers.

No one on the pool table, though.
Manager Brett keeping an eye on things.
I think I caught the dancers between sets or maybe they were with customers.

I drank my two beers here and congratulated myself on the successful conclusion of my bar crawl. It was actually kind of nice to be drinking with a purpose. Fourteen beers is pushing my limit, but I wasn’t stupid drunk or anything like that. A later start and a later finish, but probably not a significant amount of increased consumption.

And there you have the first in what will likely be a series of future themed accounts of my visits to the bars of Barretto. Hope you enjoyed it.

Go for it

Grab it while you can! Love it or lose it! Take it to the limit! (I’m talking about life here, although, given my history, I can’t blame you if you assumed I meant something else.)

The life I enjoyed to the fullest yesterday included a great morning hike with the Wednesday Walkers and my usual quality time with my best friend, San Mig Zero, in the evening. Lots of photos from the trail at the end of this post.

Started my beer drinking at Hideaway and shared a pizza and some blueberry muffins with the gals. A customer had a muffin, too, and liked it so much that he bought me a beer. I’d call that a win!

My timing was off, so I missed the requisite shot of Joy sinking her teeth into her muffin. Hmm, that has kind of an untended lewd connotation, doesn’t it?

Manager Griff bought me a beer as well, so my night was off to a sodden start. After I departed Hideway, I popped into The Green Room, but it was packed with a pool tournament. Luckily, there were plenty of seats next door at Wet Spot, so I settled in there for a while.

Lydell from Snackbar sent me a message requesting my presence there, so I made my way up the highway for a visit before calling it a night. Some fucker passing on the righthand shoulder where I was walking almost clipped me. The most dangerous part of my day is walking that pavement, and I fear someday it may kill my dream of dying while making love to a beautiful Filipina.

As usual, I wound up buying drinks for several of the Snackbar girls in addition to Lydell. I guess that’s the price you pay when you are a barroom hero! I’m not complaining; just saying. My belly full of beer and my wallet running on empty, I called it a night.

Now for the hike. It was a beautiful day, and we had a record turnout of fifteen fellow travelers. We hiked some paths we hadn’t done for quite a while, so that added to the sense of adventure. And we finished with lunch at a barbeque place that’s a bit off the beaten track, so it was the first time I’d actually sat down for a meal there. I wasn’t disappointed!

Our route was 6K or so with a couple of short climbs.
The ladies gathering at our 7/11 meet-up location.
And we’re off!
Regrouping in Alta Vista. Left or right? Ok, left it is.
A lovely day in the neighborhood.
You can see all the way to Easter mountain from here.
A crappy shot of my future home…
Where the pavement ends, the fun begins!
Through the thick of it.
Walking the plank.
Crossing the bridge.
Hello, San Isidro.
Walking up through the shanties.
Making our way up the first hill of the day.
Up top, the grass was higher than we were.
A valley view
And on the other side, a bay view.
And still, we marched on.
Our path took us up past my mountain friend MJ’s place.
I didn’t think she was home, but we took a rest in her nipa hut area.
And enjoyed the view from her front yard.
I was surprised and a little embarrassed for making myself at home without her permission when she came outside to greet us.
Moving on again.
The view from this side of the mountain.
We took a break at Olivia’s, my other mountain friend’s place.
Lydell sure is a cutie.
Heading back down to Barretto.
Between the fences.
Washing off the trail dust at the local well.
A bunch of hungry hikers!
We arrived right when they opened.
I think we might have overwhelmed the solitary waitress.
What’s on the menu?
Since I was feeding myself and three Snackbar gals, I ordered one of the platters. It was all good, and we even had some leftovers.

And so ended another hike.

Today was full of surprises, and I’ll share those with you tomorrow (that’s what we call foreshadowing). In fact, I envision TWO posts are going to be required. See you here again soon!

Preparation H

H is for hassle, headache, and/or hard. When I was a frequent traveler, I took some pride in being pretty savvy at getting the details right. This three-year hiatus and my deteriorating brain capacity have made preparing for next week’s trip more than a little challenging.

I guess because I had originally planned to go mid-month, the fact that I’m leaving in six days didn’t really hit home until yesterday morning as I was preparing for the weekly trip to the grocery store. I knew I had to go to immigration for my exit clearance but thought there was plenty of time for that until I glanced at the calendar and had an “oh shit!” moment. I needed to do immigration now, not later. So, I double checked the requirements for the clearance. Fired up the little used printer and got a copy of my flight itinerary. Had my driver stop at a local shop and had three 2×2 photos made. Filled out a long-ass form at the immigration office and then waited to be fingerprinted. Took about twice as long as the visa process. I have to go back on Friday to pick up my certificate of freedom.

Immigration accepted this photo even though it makes me look old and grumpy.

Anyway, it was lucky I hadn’t delayed submitting my paperwork. There was a sign posted at immigration saying the office would be closed on October 31 and November 1. Yeah, All Saints Day is a big thing in this Catholic country. Had I missed my 72-hour window for processing, I’d have been screwed.

Still on my “to-do” list is applying for an online visa for Cambodia. At least if I fuck that up, I can wait in the visa-on-arrival line. I also need to purchase an onward ticket for when I return to the PI. Then there will be the e-arrival form and COVID test to complete while I’m in Cambodia. Show me a hoop, and I’ll jump right through!

It looks like things are going to get easier in the near future. I read today that President BongBong is lifting the indoor mask mandate (which only applied to certain places, like the f’n grocery store), and it appears the vaccination mandate for tourists’ entry is ending too. A little late for me, but about damn time.

Speaking of normal, the begging entreaties continue at a fever pitch. My mountain mama friend needed money for her electric bill (at least she was willing to massage for the money, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I gave her an “advance”). The downstairs part-time helper needed money for her boyfriend’s transportation to work. And then Joy chimed in wanting money for a medical test for her mother and a birthday cake for her sister. Frankly, that was the last straw and I went off on her. She was very apologetic and promised never to ask again. I eventually let go of my anger (but not the cash) and decided to forgive and forget.

Here’s the thing, I don’t mind being generous up to a point. I mean, I’m living on a pension but I have a charity budget. But I don’t like to feel I’m being taken advantage of either. I gave Joy money to buy a used refrigerator a few days ago and didn’t think twice about it. That fifty bucks meant little too me but made a daily difference in her life. But Joy is my “friend” only and I’m not expanding my charitble activities to take care of her mother and sister. They are not my responsibility and I resent even being asked. Hopefully, I’ve made that clear now. Rant over.

Started my evening yesterday with a haircut and since Blue Butterfly was practically next door I dropped in there afterwards. There were four or five girls seated in the outside area and I treated them all to dinner; and drinks for the one who was sitting beside me rubbing my thigh. Then I finished my night at Snackbar. I always have mixed emotions when I ‘m there and also have a hard time focusing on just one gal–so many nice ones to choose from. In other words, I wind up buying multiple lady drinks for multiple girls. I guess it’s a good deal for them. And I suppose that’s a form of charity, too. Right?

That’s the latest from here. Back tomorrow with a report on the Wednesday Walkers hike and my exploits on the town tonight.

Watch your Nuggets

A pretty darn good Hash trail yesterday. At least the parts I did. Difficult enough to get the heart racing but not so hard that it stopped being fun. Of course, avoiding the first and biggest climb of the day helped in that regard. Credit where it is due, though, to the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, who actually found some new paths for us to tread, and he did his usual fine job of marking a trail that was easy to follow.

Leech’s trail in purple, and the “sane” group’s shortcuts in orange.
And we are off, heading up Rizal Extension instead of the mountain.
Wild Filipinas
Into the woodlands
A covered bridge is a rare sight in these parts.
Lending ISD a hand on steep down
Made it!
The trail had its ups and downs.
Time to climb again
Pubic Head getting his ass kicked.
Almost to the top
The view from up here
The view of down there. Now, I didn’t take that photo, and she’s the one who posted it on Facebook. I’m just sharing with my readers so they can see what I saw.
There was a time in my life when I’d get high on grass. These days, it’s the grass that’s high.
This is not to say we don’t find ways to still get high
On-Home at Johansson’s
Circle up!

After the Hash, I continued my drinking spree at Alaska Club, bought some lady drinks, then triked home for a smoothie and some sleep.

And now today is the tomorrow I worried about yesterday. I guess that’s the carousel of time thing Joni Mitchell sang about.

And here is today’s installment from the SOB dance competition–The Whiskey Girls.

A friend in need

Yesterday I received a Facebook message from my friend Dave, who has been back in the USA for several months. I don’t think I’ve we’ve communicated directly since his departure, but I do know he is scheduled to return here in November. So, it was a little surprising to get his message asking me to send his girlfriend (who I also know) $200 and that he would repay me next month. Knowing Dave, I wasn’t worried about him paying me back, and I assumed it must be some emergency, or he wouldn’t have reached out to me. So, I wrote back asking for Jo’s full name as it appears on her ID so I could wire the money via Xoom (the money transfer service I use). Dave sent the name, and I completed the transfer without further delay.

I promptly sent Dave the receipt.

I told Dave the money was available for pick up at any of the usual money exchange locations; all Jo needed was her ID and the claim number. I was a little taken aback when, instead of thanking me, Dave asked if I would send it to Jo’s PayMaya account (it’s one of those e-money things) instead. I told Dave I had no idea how to do that, and he explained I could do it directly to her account through Xoom. Again, I wasn’t sure what this emergency was all about, but maybe Jo wasn’t physically capable of picking up the cash in person. So, being the good friend I am, I logged back into Xoom, canceled the original transfer, and resent the money to the PayMaya account. I advised Dave the money was sent in the manner requested.

Still no thank you, but a few minutes later, Dave told me the money had not yet arrived. I checked my email for the Xoom receipt and instead found a message from Xoom saying the transaction had been canceled for “security reasons.” I assumed that my canceling the original send and then immediately doing the second was the cause for their concern. I responded to the email explaining the circumstances and advised Dave we would need to wait for Xoom to approve the transfer.

In the meantime, I took a look at my Facebook feed and saw a post from Jack saying that if anyone got a message from him asking for money, it wasn’t legit. Yikes! Talk about a light bulb coming on–it was as blinding as my stupidity. I immediately searched for Dave’s name on Facebook and found both his real account and a newly created one–it was the new account I had been chatting with. Yep, the whole thing had been a scam, and I had stupidly fallen for it. If Xoom hadn’t flagged the second transaction, I would have been out two hundred bucks. Jesus.

It also explained why “Dave” didn’t want the standard wire transfer. He didn’t have the required ID with Jo’s name on it to pick up the cash. I guess a fake PayMaya account is just a number that no one can check. I sent my buddy Scott, who is also friends with Jack and Dave, a message giving him a heads-up. Scott was already aware of the scam, saying Dave had received a money request from Jack and had alerted him to what was going on. That scared me, and I’ve been checking Facebook periodically to make sure the scammer hasn’t created another account in MY name. So far, so good.

Oh, and Scott also sent me a message asking for a donation to his PayPal account: asuckerborneveryminute@gmail. Everyone’s a comedian these days. Or a scammer.

Here’s the lesson to be learned:

Don’t be as stupid as this guy!

In other news, my solo Sunday stroll looked like this:

I gave myself a break and kept it a short 5K. You can see I wimped out at the end and took a trike ride back up the hill to Alta Vista.

My Sunday evening bar crawl started at It Doesn’t Matter, then Green Room, Hideaway, and finished at Mugshots. No lady drinks at IDM, dinner from Sit-n-Bull at the Green Room, plus a game of pool (I actually won!). I hadn’t planned to do Hideaway since I’d done the feeding the night before, but Joy was hungry, so I brought some roast chicken from Chooks for the girls. Then when I was walking back to my side of town, all the new girls at Mugshots were seated outside, so I joined them for one last beer. No lady drinks, but I tipped the four of them 50 pesos each when I left.

It’s Hash Monday, and Leech My Nuggets is the Hare. That portends a challenging trail. Even harder for me because the trail begins at Barretto High School on Rizal Extension, a good long walk from my house. I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind and get there by going over the mountain instead of around it. That cuts down the distance, but I’m not keen on hiking in the hills alone. If I don’t post here tomorrow, send out a rescue party!

Almost forgot, today’s SOB video, The Queen Victoria team:

Fly by night

I guess my big accomplishment yesterday was booking my flight to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I’ll be leaving on 1 November and returning on the 8th, a quick one-week journey. I couldn’t get a direct flight out of Clark in Angeles, so I’ll be making the dreaded trip to Manila. It’s only three hours in the air, and I’ll be arriving in Cambo just before midnight. The return trip leaves at 0200 and arrives back in Manila around 5 a.m. That’s a bit of a pain, but that was the only direct flight available. It’s on Philippines Air, so hopefully, things will go as planned.

It’s been almost three years since I’ve traveled anywhere, and what used to be old hat, like making plane reservations, was a bit more challenging than I remembered. In the old days, I’d look for cheap fares using Kayak, but now it would redirect me to companies I’d never heard of before, and I was loathed to put my credit card info out there on the internet. I wound up booking through Expedia since I know they are legit.

I still need to find a hotel, the one my friend who lives there recommended was already sold out. I will also have to get an “onward” ticket showing I’ll be leaving the Philippines within thirty days of my arrival. Yes, you can extend your tourist visa (which I’ve been doing for three years now), but you must show a flight out when you first arrive. I also practiced completing the online “e-arrival card” that is required of all passengers flying into the Philippines, showing their vaccination history. I’ll need to resubmit it 72 hours before my return flight, and since I’ve not had a booster shot, I’ll also need to get tested 24 hours before I come back.

Next up on my travel to-do list is getting my approval to exit the country. I guess they check to make sure I’m not wanted for any high crimes and misdemeanors. It’s a pain in the ass because I’ll need to get three 2×2 photos and take my passport, ACR card, tourist visa paperwork, and a copy of my flight itinerary to the immigration office no less than three days before I travel (then go back and pick it up). Nothing to be done but to do it all and be glad for the opportunity to see something new. Well, I’ve been to Phnom Penh once previously, but I’m looking forward to going back.

My solo Saturday street walk in Barretto was right at 7K. I ended my walk at Sit-n-Bull and took home a meaty sub sandwich for lunch.

I attended a birthday party for two of the girls at Hideaway last night.

I provided one of the cakes and contributed a pizza to the smorgasbord of foods.
The gals did a nice job with the decorations as well.

I stayed longer than usual and even participated in some of the party games. One involved a banana and another an egg, but the girls did all the work. I’ll leave it at that.

After leaving Hideaway, I saw Mugshots was open for business. Turns out they close on Wednesdays, which is what led to my confusion. Another change is that they’ve updated their business model to include bargirls now. One of them was sitting outside and called me as I walked past–she was the ex of the guy who is now dating my ex. Ah, the joys of small-town living! Anyway, I went inside to have a beer and check it out. It’s nice inside, and I think adding girls to the mix will help business. I’ll likely be back, although I don’t intend to get involved with the gal who is the ex–didn’t even buy her a drink last night. I like a no-drama lifestyle.

Continuing my trek up the highway, I saw yet another samgyeopsal restaurant had now opened.

Yeah, they spelled it wrong. And don’t be distracted by the Christmas directions–we are in the high holiday season now, “the ber months” here in the Philippines. The restaurant is on the second floor (it used to be a bar I rather enjoyed) and right across the highway from the Central Park Reef hotel. I expect they’ll do alright. I’ll give it a try soon.

I had a coupon, “buy a lady drink, get a free customer drink,” for Whiskey Girl, so that was my next stop. I sat in the back, away from the loud music, and Jenn soon joined me for some more snuggling and cuddling. She’s a little chubby, but I find her oddly attractive. She’s also forty years old with a sixteen-year-old son. Neither of those facts is a deal breaker for me. Her only day off is Sunday, and she spends it in San Marcelino (about 20K from here) with family. I’d kind of like to spend some time with her outside of the bar, but not sure about the logistics given her schedule.

It was after eight, and I should have been heading home, but instead, I decided to pop into Snackbar. I sat at an outside table with my hiking buddies and, of course, bought them all a drink.

It’s a hard life I’m living, but I’m doing my best. Honest! (Notice those hats? The girls bought them for future hiking excursions. I think they might be hooked.)

There was live music blaring from upstairs. I asked what that was all about, and the girls told me a grand opening celebration was taking place. For what? A bar? I asked. Nope, a new restaurant. You guessed it, a samgyeopsal restaurant. Filipinos love that pork belly!

I didn’t stay long at Snackbar. I’d had enough to drink, and I have some personal issues there. I’ll see the crew on hikes and patronize bars that don’t leave me feeling unappreciated. Lots of those in town.

And a whole lot more to explore ten days from now in Cambodia! What a life.

Oh, someone posted videos from this week’s SOB contest. I’ll share one a day for any of you guys who want to see the performances. Here are the Champion Voodoo ladies:

And don’t worry, they are safe for work. At least there is no nudity.

Nothing to SOB about

A pleasant enough evening out on the town last night. The SOB competition was held at Voodoo, a small venue, and it was packed. I was fortunate to be seated at the VIP table with the event sponsor, Daddy Dave. Also had my Voodoo sweetie by my side to keep me comfortable during the event. And it turns out SOB history was made in that, for the first time, Alaska, Wet Spot, Green Room, and Hot Zone were NOT among the winners. Yep, the three perennial also-rans really upped their dance game last night to finish in the money. It was an impressive showing.

The Whiskey Girls team took third place.
Queen Victoria was second.
And Voodoo was the champion. Congrats and well-earned!

I didn’t attend the Aftermath event, instead choosing to hang out in The Green Room for a while. I actually got coerced into playing a game of pool for the first time in years. Of course, I lost, but I didn’t give a shit. I played better than I expected I would.

Home by my appointed bedtime hour as is my custom.

Which leaves my daytime activity–the hike with the Friday walking group. We kept it mostly flat and somewhat beachy, doing a little over 7K in and around Calapacuan.

The path we walked
The gathering group
Four of the Snackbar girls joined in
Bound for Calapacuan
Off that f’n highway at last!
On the beach
Boats on the bay
What you see at this seashore is not all that scenic, but it’s reality.
Walking the wall to keep our feet dry
Another bay view
Off the rocks
The day’s catch
Starfish on the beach?
We left the beach, crossed the highway, and walked around some more. Pond fishing versus ocean fishing, can’t say which is better.
Asses in grasses
What are the odds we will all cross this rickety bridge without a fall or it collapsing? The locals said, “one at a time,” so I went first. And lived to document with my camera tragedy or triumph.
My money was on Scott, but he made it safely across. That round “beam” would roll under your feet, and the flat board was springy. Almost felt like dancing when you crossed.
Celebrating our survival on a more substantial bridge.
Strollin’ on the river…well, creek. Er, sewer?
The straight and narrow
That’s right, gals. Those rubbers will keep you safe.
The only climb on the day. Nice view on the way up.
A brief highway jaunt going back to Barretto.
Some of us did lunch at the sixth-floor restaurant of a relatively new hotel, the AM/PM. I went with the garlic parmesan chicken wings, and they were tasty.
The view from the roof.

And there you have another episode in the story of my life in the retirement community called Barretto.

Snuggle up

Made it through another day in paradise. Started the morning with my solo walk out Naugsol way.

Just a tad over 8K altogether.

A few of the things I saw along the way:

If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
Viagra falls
A river runs through it.
Seeing my future from the streets of San Isidro.
My shortcut path in Alta Vista.

When beer o’clock rolled around, I headed into town. I had a coupon for the seldom-visited Whiskey Girl to use, but they weren’t open yet when I passed by. I kept walking until I reached It Doesn’t Matter, so I visited there for the first time in over a week. Both owners noted my absence and welcomed me back. I was on my first beer when I saw an old crush (unreciprocated) was there, and we had a brief chat. A bit later, Jessa and her new guy Wes arrived, and we exchanged friendly greetings. That’s part of small-town living, I suppose, there is always someone around you know, and sometimes that makes you feel even more alone. I finished my second beer and departed.

I made my way back up the highway toward Whiskey Girl but decided having dinner first was a good idea, so I made Mango’s my next stop. When I entered, one of the waitresses exclaimed, “oh my, we were just talking about you!” I didn’t ask if it was something good or bad, but hey, it’s nice to be remembered. Pork chops were in stock, so I ordered me up some and took my customary seat facing the bay.

Beats staring out at the highway, that’s for sure.

On impulse, I ordered some more pork chops for takeout and asked my waitress what side dishes I should get. She asked, “for a Filipina?” I nodded yes, and she said to get rice and veggies. So I did and told her, “enjoy your dinner.” She was both surprised and ecstatic. Well, that’s what you get for caring enough to think about me when I’m not around.

I’d almost forgotten just how damn good these grilled chops are. Enjoyed every bite.

My hunger satiated, I moved on to Whiskey Girl. Took a seat near the stage and ordered the first of several beers (buy one, get one). There was a dancer sitting near me who was exquisitely beautiful. It was hard to keep my eyes off her full breasts that seemed destined to escape from the small top she was wearing. And those long legs covered by the shortest of skirts. One of the hottest gals I’ve seen around. Chatted a bit and learned she was twenty years old and has no kids. It was loud in the bar, and I could barely hear her, and she didn’t seem to follow much of what I was saying, but damn, she was easy on the eyes, and I kept her lady drink glass filled during my visit. Sorry, she was shy to be photographed, and this morning I don’t remember her name. Oh well, she is too young and too pretty for the likes of me anyway.

The gal on the other side of me was a waitress named Jenn I had chatted with on previous visits. Pretty much the opposite of the dancer on my other side, looks-wise, but also much more personable. She’s actually quite witty and fun to talk to. Guess which one I preferred?

Surprised? I was a little. But this gal just made me feel good to be around. That’s pretty rare.

I’m going to have to update my Whiskey Girl review. I had a lot better time there than I expected. The music they played may as well have been from one of my playlists; I liked every song. My only complaint was it was too damn loud, but next time I’m going to sit in the back, away from the stage and speakers. I never pay much attention to the dancers anyway. And yes, when I visit again, I’m going to focus exclusively on Jenn. I’d like to get to know her better. Who knew chubby girls could be such good snugglers?

It was only eight o’clock when I left Whiskey Girl, but I’d had enough to drink, so I caught a trike back home. Made a banana-mango smoothie, then hit the hay.

As days go, yesterday was a pretty good one. Which maybe will seem pathetic to some of you living full and meaningful lives. But it is what it is, and I’m in full acceptance mode. Things are better than they were and perhaps not as good as they will be in the future, but I’m living my life one day at a time and making the best of each one until they run out. That’s what I call progress.

If I knew you were coming I’d have baked a cake

I had it in my mind to bake a cake for the Hideaway girls and proceeded accordingly. Once all the ingredients were blended, poured into the cake pans, and popped into the oven, I set my phone alarm for 2:53–thirty-five minutes later. Except in a moment of Biden-like idiocy, I somehow set the timer for 3:53. I got busy blogging and didn’t notice the passing of time until it was too late. The cake was not exactly burned, but it was dry and hard. My pride would certainly not let me serve such a debacle of tastelessness. Oh, well, it happens. With scarily increasing frequency.

The girls had to settle for Oreo cookies to go with their Chook’s fried chicken. They didn’t seem to mind.

Bye-bye chicken leg
As sweet as a cookie

With my duties completed (and several beers downed) at Hideaway, I moved on back up the highway. I was thinking I’d pop into the new Mugshots bar, but it was closed. Not sure what’s up with that. Hard to believe the owner threw in the towel less than one month after opening. I’ll update when I learn more about the situation.

I made Cheap Charlies my second stop instead. I don’t go there as much these days. The bargirl there that is scamming her foreigner “boyfriend” or her husband (or both) ignored my presence, and I notice she has unfriended me on Facebook. That’s fine with me; her messages of “love” to that dumb fuck in the USA were disgusting to witness. Maybe she was afraid I was going to rat her out, but I would never do such a thing. That’s why I’m not using her name on the blog, either. It’s not my place to get involved–I’ll let Karma sort it out. I got a nice back rub and some company from my other two regulars, and hey, it’s cheaper to buy two girls drinks than it is three. Win-win!

When I departed CC, I wasn’t sure where I was going to go next, but I was thinking I’d visit somewhere I rarely frequent. Then on a whim, I decided to hit Sloppy Joes. As usual, I sat in the outdoor area, watching the world go by on the highway. I got good service from a cute waitress but no companionship. That’s fine too. A bit later, two other young ladies came out, and I assumed they were employees as well. They sat at the table next to me, and when I finished my beer and asked to pay my tab, the cute one in a short skirt encouraged me to stick around for a while and enjoy “the party.” Hmm, well, I still hadn’t hit my bedtime, and I couldn’t think of anything better to do, so I ordered another beer.

Then the two girls changed the music to something from this century and got up and danced together. Well, twerking would be more accurate. And that one in the short skirt was amazing. She could really shake that ass, but she was also doing full-leg splits to the floor like a gymnast. And then twerking from that position too. Naturally, that little skirt rode up, and I had a direct panty-shot view. It was the sexiest dance routine I think I’ve ever seen, and she was certainly more skilled than most of the bar dancers in town.

When she finished her routine, I got up to take a leak. When I returned, she was having a bit of a confrontation with a young woman who had driven up during my absence. It was a scene reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend trying to drag her man out of the bar. Hard to believe such a sexy gal who seemed to enjoy putting on a show for me could be lesbian. Maybe the other woman was her sister. Anyway, Miss sexy short skirt went out to the car with her friend or whomever it was. My waitress explained that the girl did not work at Sloppy Joe’s; she was just hanging out at the bar. A kind of weird end to my night, but I did rather enjoy it.

Well, I did have another weird thing occur–I heard from my Korean wife, something that rarely happens. She wanted some advice about someone she had met online. He claimed he was an American doctor in Iraq and couldn’t wire money from there to his daughter for her birthday. I advised her it was an obvious scam. But she told me that he sent her a copy of his American passport.

Well, the first two things that jumped out at me were that the signature (whatever it reads) doesn’t match the name of the passport. I also noted that the passport says it was issued in August 2022 and that it expires in August 2024. American passports are issued for ten-year periods.

Jee Yeun thanked me and blocked him. I hope she’s more careful about who she befriends in the future.

The other event in my day was the morning hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. We took a Jeepney out to Calapadayan (about 5K from Barretto). Our original plan was to do a short hill climb, then walk back to our little town. A wrong turn led to a much longer and steeper climb, and by the time we made it back down from the mountain, we were tuckered out, so took a Jeepney back home. Finished our adventure with lunch at John’s place.

Here are some photos from our journey:

The path we took Our original plan was to go between those peaks, then walk the back roads to Barretto.
At our 7/11 gathering spot
Rosemarie and Lydell from Snackbar joined us on our hike.
On the mean streets of Calapadayan
Monkeying around for the group shot
Leaving the gorilla in our midst
Something seemed off about this street sign.
The guys leading the pack couldn’t hear Scott’s warning that they had missed the turn.
At the gates of an abandoned water park. Now what do we do?
I’m sorry, but sliding out of a downed jetliner seems just a tad creepy to me.
And there was also a dinosaur in the woods. Anyway, the waterpark was now a pigsty (literally), and a woman came out to advise us we were not welcome on their private property. So, we headed out in a different direction.
A bridge crossing
We’ve got this in the bag
We had to keep walking to find out where the path would lead us.
Charles in his role as the candyman.
I got here first with the cookies, though!
There’s no turning back now
And up we go!
The conditions were jungle-like
But still, we plodded on
Youngsters like Lydell didn’t seem to have any issues with the climb. I heard a lot of bitching from some of the oldsters. Honestly, though, compared to last week’s stairway to heaven, this wasn’t so bad.
Just gotta keep on keepin’ on.
An uling (charcoal) “factory” on top of the mountain.
Made for a nice resting and regrouping timeout.
Alright then, let’s find our way down.
The view from here
Must be a male tree
On down
Almost there
Ah, solid ground!
Heading for the highway
Waiting for a Jeepney
Riding the Jeep back to Barretto
Some pool before lunch at John’s place (3rd-floor bar)
The view from John’s
My roast beef and cheddar sandwich with fries. Deliciosio!

I decree it to have been a good day!

This was a #1 hit song in 1950. You are welcome!

Beachy keeno

See? This blog does serve some purpose.

Another lazy Tuesday is in the books. I call it my lazy Tuesday because I go grocery shopping instead of hiking. This week Royal featured three items I was interested in at significantly discounted prices. I kept them together in the cart and then paid close attention as the cashier ran them through the scanner. All came out with the reduced price, so I’m happy to report that Royal didn’t try and scam me this week.

My mountain mama came to collect her weekly allowance and also gave me one of her great massages. Maybe the best ever. Sometimes I fantasize about building a hut up on her mountaintop and living that life with her. Of course, the reality is that I’d likely go stark raving mad after a week or two isolated up there.

In the afternoon, I got bored waiting for beer o’clock to roll around, so I decided to take a walk on Baloy beach. One of my reasons for doing so was that I’d been reading about the resolution of a property dispute, and the “rightful owners” were having the “squatters” removed from the land and their buildings destroyed. In my mind, I was picturing a few dilapidated shacks and shanties being dispensed with, but Wowza, it was a three-block stretch of destruction, including several beach resorts that catered to low-income Filipinos. When I walked by, it looked like someone had dropped a bomb.

I only took a photo of one of the former resorts, but they all looked like this. I guess the idea is to keep the squatters from moving back in. There were also a couple of security guards posted in the area. One rumor is a large new hotel will be constructed on this land. The other is that a casino will be built. This being the Philippines, I won’t be surprised if the land sits there looking like a war zone for years to come.

My other reason for visiting Baloy yesterday was to check out rumors that the Kokomo’s floating bar was once again anchored offshore.

And there she is! Listing and looking rather decrepit.
I did a zoom shot for a better look-see, and it appears there is a LONG way to go renovation-wise before it will be ready to reopen for business, assuming it ever does. I hope so, though. I really enjoy the change of pace of sipping a cold beer out on the water.

In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for taking in beach views like this:

And this.

I walked on up the beach and noticed it was now beer o’clock, so I popped into McCoy’s for a cold one. It has been several weeks since my last visit here, and I was warmly greeted by the friendly bartender.

It’s good to be back!
The view from my barstool. Not as nice as the floating bar, but it will do for now.

I wound up staying for three beers, then headed back up Baloy Road to Barretto. And since Snackbar is right at the intersection of Baloy and the highway, it was perfectly logical that I should pay them a visit while I was in the neighborhood.

I suppose there were other incentives as well.

I had a few more beers here and bought a round of lady drinks for the staff. The sad thing is that with the sister resto now closed, no food is available at the inaptly named Snackbar. I suggested to the owner that she get a Sit-n-Bull menu since they deliver, but she insisted she is going to find a new location for her kitchen. I wish her good luck with that effort.

Being hungry, I wandered up the highway to Wet Spot and had a big El Padre burrito delivered from Sit-n-Bull next door. It definitely hit the spot and filled a void. I washed it down with a couple more beers, then called it a night. According to my Fitbit, I was asleep shortly before 9 p.m.

That’s the way this old man rolls on a lazy Tuesday. Tonight I’ll be feeding the girls from Hideaway, and we’ll see what happens from there.

Oh, and let me leave you with this TikTok snippet of gals dancing to Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone.” And just so you know, I don’t normally indulge in TikTok at all (although the Chinese probably get a full account of my activities from Google anyway), but it was posted on the Althouse blog, and I did rather enjoy it. So here you go:

@bdcnyc

Just going to leave this video of Lucy Vallely here 🔥

♬ original sound – Broadway Dance Center NYC

Hmm, the video doesn’t embed, so you’ll have to click on the link. Sorry!

A change of pace

No, I’m still moving at a slow speed, but yesterday’s Hash trail was a little different and actually quite nice. Cumslinger was a first-time Hare (assisted by Fucking Cupcake), and while the area we hiked was familiar, the actual paths for most of the trail were new to me. There was one climb at the end that I managed to bypass, so I consider that a win too.

The meet-up location was at the junction of the National and Govic highways. From there, we took a hired Jeepney all the way out to Naugsol, which surprised me because I had signed on for the “easy” trail. Just walking the road back would have been a good slog, but as it turned out, the paths through the fields, forests, and landfills cut some of that distance down. I logged in at just over 6K, start to finish.

We had a heavy rain in the morning, but by the afternoon start, the sun was shining. The Hares had a unique way of marking most of the trail–stapling pieces of paper to leaves and tops of thatch grass. It actually worked pretty well visibility-wise, at least on my portion of the hike. I’m told the people who did the long trail got lost in places because some of the locals apparently removed the stapled paper the Hares had left. That’s the thing with powder and shredded paper on the ground; it’s much harder for malicious individuals to remove.

Here are some pictures from the journey:

Walking to the meet-up location, I saw this new store getting ready to open. I had to laugh at the unique name.
And at the meeting location was a sign announcing a new samgyeopsal resto called Meat and Pan. The locals are crazy about grilled pork belly, I guess. By my count, that makes five locations featuring this delicacy in our little town. I also noted that this is the only one that actually spells ‘samgyeopsal’ correctly. (I misspelled it for years until a reader shamed me enough that I stopped writing “samgyapsol” which to me was phonetic, but apparently, I pronounce it wrong too)
The path I (mostly) walked
Loaded up and ready to roll in the unique safety and comfort of the Jeepney.
Well, hello there, Annabel. (She works at my old haunt, Alley Cats, and was my first crush when I moved to the Philippines.)
Off-loading at our drop-off location on the road leading to Naugsol.
And we are On-On!
Over a rickety bridge
A wary carabao
Through the fields, well, at the edge of the field anyway.
I rarely see Easter mountain from this side.
The wide-open spaces.
This was a landfill up until about a year or so ago. Rumor has it is being groomed to be a new subdivision. I got a laugh as we walked along because I could still see some trash (plastic bottles, flip-flops, etc.) poking up through the dirt. If they do build houses here, folks will be in for a surprise if they want an in-ground swimming pool!
Let’s get out of this dump!
Into that damn tall grass again. ‘Tis the season.
Another rarely viewed side of Easter mountain.
Into the woods. You can see some of the paper markers in the tree leaves.
We also had some pink chalk arrows to follow. (I jokingly called it a Pride trail).
We brought some life to this cemetery as we passed through.
You can’t see it, but this portion of the trail was wet and muddy underfoot.
I honestly just now made the connection between the ubiquitous thatch grass we wade through and the very common thatch roofs on dwellings. At least it serves a meaningful purpose.
Back on dry ground.
A bloomin’ tree.
A narrow passageway.
And finally, we arrived at our On-Home venue, Yero’s. I kinda like this place, and if it were closer to my house, I’d drop in for a beer and a snack now and then.
Over fifty Hashers were in attendance for yesterday’s adventure.
A table full of Harriettes.
And some more Gash standing.
Cumslinger was rewarded for his efforts as a Hare by receiving the Hashit.

Well done!

You can Relive the hike here if you are so inclined:

It felt like deja vu all over again

So, I made it out to Angeles City and back unscathed. We signed up for the anniversary event at Premier Hotel, the ACH3 On-Home, then followed the jeepneys full of Hashers out to the trailhead, a thirty-minute drive over some very dicey roads (my driver’s vehicle bottomed out once and almost got stuck in sandy soil). Getting out again in the dark wasn’t much better, but we made it.

On the way to the start, I kept telling my Hash companion Scott that the scenery looked oddly familiar. He kept insisting we’d never been there before, but there was a dream-like “I remember this” quality to the views throughout the trip. And then, when we pulled into the field where the Hash event would be held, I knew for sure I’d been there. It was almost two years ago with the Corona Hash group. Scott hadn’t attended that run, so we were both right. And as it turned out, we wound up doing the exact same trail that I had Hashed with the Corona H3. So much for seeing something new on this trip.

That said, it was a nice trail on a beautiful day. A tough steep up, but it wasn’t too long. Some meandering along the hilltops, sometimes with a precipitous drop on either side, then a not-too-difficult climb down (on the medium trail anyone, I understand the long trail required a rope for the descent–no thank you!), and then a walk back to Hash circle on a flat dirt road. Took us about two hours from start to finish.

As usual, let’s tell the story in pictures:

We arrived in Angeles a little early, so we popped into this small resto-bar started by a female Hasher in AC. No, we didn’t drink alcohol before our hike, but we did order lunch.
The interior walls feature the names of Hashers who have visited the resto-bar. They took our Hash names so we could be added to the collection.
Our trail as seen from above
Some added perspective
The Hare gives guidance prior to the start.
And we are On-On!
At the beginning of the climb to the top
Yeah, they are a bunch of posers.
Steep it was
My poor lungs were huffin’ and puffin’ all the way up.
One step after another will eventually get you there.
Finally!
That would be me
I used some zoom so you can see Angeles in the distance
Another high view
I was pretty much back of the pack, as usual
One of those scary drops where one false step and you are a goner
We all lived to tell about it
The serenity of survival
See you crazy fuckers later; I’m going straight!
I’m heading down
Thanks to Scott (Pubic Head) for a lot of these photos
The tunnel of love?
Forward or backward are the only options
Heading for the flat
Buying some freshly harvested buko (coconut)
They love that juice, er, milk
So that’s where bananas come from!
Roadwork for the final kilometer
An Aeta (native) family we encountered along the way. Yep, they got the cookies!
Almost there!
The ACH3 anniversary gathering
Almost like camping
But I managed to borrow a chair…

As Hash circles go, the AC version was pretty tame, if not lame. But everyone has their own style, and I can find plenty to criticize about how we do it in Subic, too. A long and expensive trip for a few hours of fun, but no regrets.

UPDATE: Well, I’ll be damned. Turns out that Corona Hash I mentioned was in March 2021. It’s a little scary that my memory of that trip was so vague. Ironically, that linked post was titled “Things can always be worse.” A couple of days later, I came down with the Corona, as did several other attendees. We all lived to tell about that, too.

Past remembering

This a rare morning post here at LTG, but I have a full day ahead of me, so I’m in “now or never” territory. I’ll be heading out to Angeles City in a couple of hours to participate in the ACH3 anniversary Hash run. Pubic Head and some of our Harriettes will be sharing the ride with me. Something different for my Sunday, and hopefully, we’ll all have fun.

Here’s how I filled those Saturday hours:

A sloppy-looking but tasty breakfast burrito got my day off to a good start.

I did my usual Saturday morning Barretto street walk.

Just under 8K, and I managed a 12.30 per kilometer pace, which is moving out for me.
Right outside the subdivision gates, I observed this fallen bamboo tree caught up in the power lines. I fear there may be a “brownout” in my future (the power company is not big on preventive maintenance.)

During my solo walks, I wear my headphones and listen to music on Spotify. The playlists are usually full of songs that I’m familiar with, but every once in a while, I hear something new that resonates with my current mood. Yesterday I listened to a John Prine tune called “Clay Pigeons” for the first time. Here’s the verse that made me say, “who wrote this?” as I walked along (yeah, I must have looked like a crazy guy talking to myself on the street):

I'm tired of runnin' round lookin' for answers
To questions that I already know
I could build me a castle with memories
Just to have somewhere to go
Count the days and the nights
That it takes to get back in the saddle again
Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
And start talkin' again
When I know what to say

So, when I got back home, I looked at John Prine’s Wikipedia page and discovered that he didn’t write the song above; it was a cover version of the one written by someone named Blaze Foley, whom I’d never even heard of before. His wiki page revealed a life even more convoluted than mine–no wonder I liked his song!

But hey, there’s more to life than searching for obscure information on the internet.

There’s also baking. Like this carrot cake. It turned out yum! I also made a batch of brownies for the Hideaway girls.

Yes, I had to do my Sunday feeding last night because I don’t expect I’ll be back from my trip to AC in time to hit the bars.

And I know my readers look forward to seeing Joy enjoy her meal–roast chicken last night.

One of my ex-girlfriends was at the bar with her new beau, and it was good to see her happy. I can’t help but lament how things might have been if I was better at being a boyfriend, but that’s the way it seems to go for me.

I also encountered my most recent ex at my next beer stop. We are on friendly terms too, but those wounds aren’t entirely healed yet. No real regrets; I wasn’t a good fit for her either.

It was weird, though, that this appeared in my Facebook feed while I was in her presence.

Anyway, there’s someone for me somewhere. Or maybe not. This solitary life could be my destiny. God may be saying, “WTF, dude? How many chances do you expect in one lifetime? And oh, by the way, about that lifetime–it ain’t gonna last forever.”

This seems strangely apt.

But I’m living in the land where miracles do happen. Especially if you can afford to pay for them. Speaking of which, a girl I was plying with drinks last night was telling me all the right things. She either really likes me or she is really good at her job. We shall see.

Meet Jenn. I lifted this photo from her Facebook page. I’ve got to say I find her incredibly attractive. Of all the bargirls in Barretto, I like her the best.

Am I headed for bliss or for trouble? Time will tell, so stay tuned here at LTG!

Climbing the stairway to heaven

It felt like hell along the way, but we made it to the top.

There's some hikers who know there's a long way to go
And they're climbing the stairway to heaven
When the get there they know they'll have sweat-soaked clothes
But they'll gain the sweet views that they came for

And they're climbing the stairway to heaven

Someone claimed it's a thousand steps, but we couldn't be sure
Because it seems no one has ever really counted
As we climbed our way up the locals thought we must be nuts
Because who goes that way if they don't have to

Ooh, and it makes me wonder
Ooh, and it makes me wonder

There's a feeling I get, that seems like regret
As my lungs they are crying for breathing
In my thoughts I have said this makes me feel dead
And I'm climbing these steps for the last time

And it makes me wonder

But then we make it to the top
And see our town down there below
And we can't help but let it show
How glad we are that we did go
We took each step and didn't stop
And though the hike was very hard
And we weren't moving very fast
We were all for fun and fun for all
We tripped on rocks but did not roll

We were climbing the stairway to heaven

(apologies to Led Zepplin and everyone who just read those butchered lyrics)

Alrighty then. Yesterday, our Friday group caught a Jeepney to Olongapo City and hiked back to Barretto by going up and over Kalaklan ridge using the path that has been dubbed “the stairway to heaven.” It’s been a long time since we’ve taken that route up and yesterday was a good reminder of why–it’s a tough bitch. I don’t know if it is really a thousand stair steps, but it was a 235-meter climb. But we got it done, and that brings with it a special sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Maybe for the last time.

Our path. A jeepney ride, a 1K road walk, a hard climb to the top of the ridge, then back down to Barretto town. We finished with some lunch at John’s place.
Our Friday group of hikers.
Our two newest members, Heidi on the left and Lydell on the right, seemed to enjoy themselves.
A bit of highway walking at the start.
This made me think of Kevin Kim’s unfortunate encounter with a horny driver during his Jeju island hike in South Korea.
Then up an inclined street.
I’m inclined to like what I see.
And there it is–the stairway to heaven!
A seemingly endless staircase testing our endurance.
Onward!
Upward!
Name shame in taking a water stop along the way.
And still, we climb the seemingly endless stair steps.
A brief horizontal interlude.
On and on and on we go.
Tired yet, Scott?
Almost there, don’t give up yet!
So, I’m on the stairway to heaven. Looking down, I see Olongapo City. Does that mean it’s hell?
A little diversion on the climb.
At last, the end of the climb. “What took you so long, old man?”
Way up here, all by itself, sits this abandoned house. There must be a story here. Maybe the hubby sent his wife down the stairs for beer one time too many.
Regrouping on the ridgeline road.
How’s that for a spider, Kevin?
Let’s take a break.
You can see my little slice of heaven from here!
Even has angels!
Movin’ out.
Passing through the rooster farm.
And walking the Great Wall of Barretto.
Easter mountain as seen from the Great Wall.
The Olongapo side of the bay.
Let’s go home.
Going down.
And more down.
Almost there.
Back on flat ground and refreshments at the sari-sari store.
Counting flowers on the wall that don’t bother me at all.
Heidi and Lydell had enough energy to play pool while waiting for lunch to be served.
I just took in the view.
Ah, yes, pulled pork for me!
The girls had bulgogi…
And Korean-style chicken wings.

And that was my daytime trip to heaven.

Last night I did attend the SOB at Whiskey Girl. I met one of the Whiskey Girl girls, and she joined me for a few drinks before the show.

Say hello to Jah Jah, a 27-year-old cutie. We are now Facebook friends.

I wound up not going to the Aftermath and made it a relatively early evening. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll

And she's buying a stairway to Heaven

A birthday celebration

Started my evening at Snackbar, where I joined in celebrating the occasion of Lydell turning twenty-two. I honestly thought she was older than that, but then again, age is just a number (provided that number is at least 18).

That’s the birthday girl with the brownies I baked for her. Heidi made that big batch of spaghetti.
The birthday cake I funded.
Blow out the candle before the wind does.
Mama walked by just in time to partake in some pasta and cake.
Me and the girls.
And one of Lydell and me. Hmm, well, she is only forty-five years my junior.
And the view from my seat at Snackbar. There is a reason that looks like a 7/11 store parking lot.

Anyway, it was nice to participate in the BD party. This morning Lydell and Heidi joined the Friday group hike for the first time on one of our tougher trails and seemed to enjoy themselves. More on that with photos tomorrow.

Now it’s time to prepare for my Friday night. There could be an SOB in my future, although honestly, I’m on the fence about attending tonight’s performance. I might need a break this week, but we’ll see how I feel when the time comes.

The same old same old is feeling kind of old. Or maybe it’s just that I am. But what else am I going to do? It’s not like we have a library in town. I reckon a few cold beers will cure whatever it is that’s ailing me.

I’m pretty sure I’ve posted this here before. It came up in my Facebook memories from four years ago this morning. It’s a good reminder.

From the end to the beginning

More or less (less or more?).

The feeding at Hideaway seemed to go well. My carrot cupcakes were especially popular, and who doesn’t enjoy some hot pizza from Shamboli’s?

Pizza eater
Joy sinks her teeth into a cupcake.

And, of course, there were lady drinks to wash it all down.

After Hideaway, I visited Cheap Charlies for the first time in quite a while. My new mode is not to let the shenanigans of a particular bargirl impact where I choose to imbibe my beers. So, last night when I arrived, the girl in question sidled up beside me, and I told her, “I hope you have a happy life” then I turned my back and ignored her. I guess she got the hint because she moved away. As an old timer advised me once after I first moved here: there’s a word you say when a Filipina disappoints you–NEXT!

Meet Diana, a sweet little 23-year-old, the replacement for my disappointment.

Here I go again with eyes wide open! Actually, I jest. Some lady drinks and some chat are my only expectations. That and at least pretending to be appreciative. So far, so good. The most interesting thing I learned about Diana last night was that she lives with her mom and dad in the little village at the bottom of the dirt path that takes me out of Alta Vista. We are practically neighbors! She said she had seen me hiking by there and handing out cookies. Anyway, it’s nice to make a new “friend.”

While at Cheap Charlies, I received a message from Lydell, one of the Snackbar girls, inviting me to join them.

How could I say no? That’s Lydell on the left with Rosemarie and Heidi.

Today is Lydell’s twenty-second birthday, and I am the proud sponsor for her party tonight at Snackbar.

And since I was the only customer last night, the lady drinks flowed! Everyone seemed to have a good time, and it cost me around $35. It’s not hard to live large in my little town!

So, that’s the update on my drinking life. In my hiking mode, I led the Wednesday Walkers up into the hills overlooking Barretto for a pleasant 6K trek. Only six of us were in attendance this go-round, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I’ll let the photos tell the story:

Pretty much how it was done…looks like there were a couple of burps in the GPS, though.
Our merry band of walkers.
Let the climbing begin.
Some folks walk this every day; bless their hearts.
That’s more like it
Splendor in the grass.
A nice view of Subic Bay.
Posers!
An Easter mountain view
Blooming thatch grass
Hello down there, Barrio Barretto!
It seems that Todd has his hands full.
We are in over our heads now!
That’s the Kalaklan ridge off in the distance. Not going there this time.
Mountain views.
Todd holding court.
Charles standing at the top of the hill that broke his leg last year.
Another perspective on Easter mountain.
A cookie delivery to my mountain friend, Olivia
Coming back down.
Scott didn’t join us this week, so we tried without success to roust him when we passed his house.
Dynamite Dick’s bound.

That’s how the day went down, from the end to the beginning. I’m happy to report it does not appear to be the beginning of the end.

Back with more tomorrow.