Not sure why it is named that; it doesn’t look like any log cabin I’ve seen before. Anyway, my room is around the back side and is called “de lux,” which is also a stretch. Tiny inside the room and not particularly cheap at 3500 pesos.
The front garden at the hotelAnd a big ol’ pine tree I rather like the looks of. One noticeable difference besides the air temp up here is that the vegetation and foilage are unlike back home. This area is where strawberries and other fruits are grown, I assume because the climate is more conducive to their production.The hotel restaurant. Food average, service poor.
They do have a “fireplace suite” (you can see the chimney, something that is very rare in the tropical Philippines. I was cold when I got out of bed this morning, and that is a strange feeling. Oh yeah, last night, I could even see my breath! It got all the way down to 16 celsius! Yeah, yeah, I know that’s nothing, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt chilly.
Ed’s girl Helen got to experience her first horseback ride.The white ones with pink manes cracked me up.The hotel bar It’s the only bar within walking distance, so that’s where our group hung out. Later they had a duet that wasn’t bad. Closed at 10:00, which seems crazy for a Friday.This is a page from the hotel restaurant menu. The part about “beating a chicken live” was a little disconcerting.We did our dinner at a place next door to the hotel. The food was good, but they messed up our bill. We had asked for separate checks, but they brought one bill. No big deal; we all added up what our dinner and drinks totaled and put it in the basket. I checked to make sure we had enough (3500 for all of us), and we were only being charged 2600. We called the waiter over and explained that there had been a mistake. He didn’t think so, but we insisted he recheck. He came back, and sure enough, we owed 3500. He was grateful to us for having called the shortchanging to his attention.The prices were low. This US ribeye was under 700 pesos.And the ribs were under 400.
I couldn’t decide which I wanted, and it was such a good deal I wound up getting both. Yeah, I know, but damn such a bargain. They were good too!
After the meal, I was using a toothpick to dislodge a piece of meat, and my f’n crown popped off. Looks like a dentist visit is in my near future.
I hope to get some photos during the Hash this afternoon that capture the unique beauty of this city. I also hope the trail isn’t too difficult. I don’t know if it is a coincidence, altitude, or temperature, but my lungs have really been acting up at the slightest provocation. We’ll see what happens.
Assuming survival, I’ll be back tomorrow with a full report.
Made it to the mountain city. Over four hours door-to-door. Then took a hike to find tomorrow’s Hash On-Home. So, no time for a post today. I will throw up a few pics to tide you over and then play catch-up in the morning.
On the road up to BaguioThe famous lion’s head carved into a rock.
Some shots from last night’s Barretto bar crawl with Joshua.
Dinner at Mango’s featured this view.First stop, Voodoo. Lyn is looking mighty fine on her 55th birthday. She is still dancing!Josh with another Voodoo dancer.
A drink in Hot Zone, but no photos and no company there.
Josh had better luck in AlaskaVirginia, my favorite Alaska girlMy regular Whiskey Girl waitress was occupied with another customer. So, I “settled” for this dancer. She filled the void nicely.Josh has different tastes in women than I do.Whiskey Girl dancers
We finished the night at Josh’s hotel bar, Rock Lobster. He had a drinking companion when I left. I maintained much better control than I did on Wednesday, that’s for sure.
Alright, I’ll be back with some updates from Baguio in the morning.
“No man is totally worthless–he can always serve as a bad example.” That’s a real quote from a former girlfriend of mine back before the turn of the century.
I decided to start the evening out on the town with my nephew Josh at John’s place. My reasoning was two-fold: it’s always best not to drink on an empty stomach, and I wanted to throw some support John’s way as he deals with his current medical emergency. So we both enjoyed some sandwiches, and I ordered some wings to go for the Hideaway girls. After dinner, I threw some cash into a jar on the counter to help with John’s medical bills.
A view from our perch at John’s
Josh is also wanting to lose some weight, so he followed my lead and switched from beer to gin and soda water. I carefully explained my methodology: one shot of gin on the rocks in a tall glass with a can of soda water on the side. After filling the glass with soda, you enjoy a couple of sips, then replenish the glass with more soda. In this way, the initial shot of gin is watered down and weakened, making it easier to drink more and get drunk less. When it came time to order our second round of drinks, Josh didn’t order more soda because his can was still half full. So much for taking advice from your uncle.
Despite being Wednesday, one of my regular feeding days, I hadn’t initially planned to visit Hideaway. As I explained to Joy in a text message, her birthday feeding was it for this week. She seemed disappointed and said there were no customers, so no drink commissions. Since I was at John’s, which is practically right across the highway from Hideaway, I decided to make a surprise visit.
Joy got her chicken and drink commissions and was a happy camper.
Josh seemed to be enjoying himself as well; one of the other girls latched on to him and enjoyed his generosity in the form of lady drinks. I noted that Josh was ordering his gin straight up with no soda at all. I wouldn’t last an hour if I drank them that way.
The next stop on our barhop was Cheap Charlies. When we first arrived, it wasn’t busy, and we got my preferred seats up front with the highway view. Narissa came and took our drink orders, served them, then walked away as if we had never met. My other regulars were not working or otherwise occupied. I don’t understand the logic of showing disdain for a customer known for his largesse with lady drinks when it is your job to entertain him and earn commissions from the drinks he buys you. Oh, well. I don’t need the company of someone who doesn’t want to be there (and can’t hide that fact) anyway. I did notice that Josh caught the eye of some lass, and she came over to join him and make a little money.
Next up was Wet Spot. That’s where things started getting a little fuzzy for me. Even with my watered-down version of gin, it hits me harder than beer does. Worse, it kinda sneaks up on me–one minute, I’m fine, and the next, oops! Anyway, I checked my phone this morning, and I had taken some photos that helped me remember how I spent some of my time there.
I did vaguely recall hooking up with that sweet young thing, Mevelyn. Josh was wearing his recently acquired Hideaway shirt and had his back turned to the dancers.It appears someone had a birthday. Josh says I ate a piece of cake.
The last photo I took was of how things were looking to me as I headed home from Wet Spot:
Yikes! Made it home safely, though, and woke up with a hangover. Even though we both felt like shit, Josh joined me for a street walk this morning.
The day began better than it ended with a nice hike and climb to the top of Black Rock. I was honestly a little worried about Josh’s ability to do the moderately difficult trek on his still-recovering leg, but he was game to try, so off we went.
6.69K from beginning to end.Only four of us Wednesday Walkers this weekMaking our first climb up a seemingly endless stairway.As seen along the wayLeaving the pavement behindNearing the topThe conquest of Black Rock is completed successfully.Looking back from whence we came–Barrio Barretto.Looking down on the locals.I zoomed in for a closer look at Alta Vista. I wanted to compare it to this photo Scott sent me of Alta Vista back in 2005.Josh and his uncle MarkWhat goes up must come down.Almost to the bottomA cookie recipient. I hope she didn’t share them with the carabao.Hopping alongTaking time to smell photograph the flowers.Good morning, Easter mountain.Josh crossed bridge #3 for the first timeEnded the hike at my house, and I prepared a burrito lunch while Josh enjoyed a cigar and the view on my back patio.
Korean culture is really not all that prevalent here, although quite a few Korean tourists (almost always men for some reason) visit the area. Still, I see signs like this one at the 7/11, so I guess Filipinos enjoy a taste now and then.
K-pop, K-drama, K-style foods. What’s next?Well, it appears that soju is dominating the liquor shelf too.
So, that was the day. I’m heading to Baguio for the weekend tomorrow morning. Going to Hash there with the La Union kennel on Saturday. Tonight I’ll show Josh some more of the bar scene here, although I’m going to need to be more moderate in my consumption. Wish me luck!
Joy from Hideaway bar celebrated twenty-five years of life on Earth yesterday. Since I’m the resident feeder, I was tasked with providing the vittles for the party. I asked the birthday girl what she wanted to eat, and she said, “Jollibee.” The specific items requested were fried chicken, spaghetti, hamburger steaks, and tuna pies. I, of course, accommodated her birthday wishes.
A birthday bag full of kisses and some cash in an envelope were my gifts to Joy.Waiting on my order at Jollibee. One thousand four hundred pesos for the birthday food.I was surprised that the party decorations also included one for me. Isn’t that sweet?Joy with her bountyMore decorationsJoy devouring a birthday brownie I baked in her honorThe traditional birthday cake. Joy’s name is Mary Joy, but everyone except me calls her MJ.Blowing out the candle
Caught up in the spirit of the celebration, I rang the bell, an act that bestows a lady drink for all the girls. Josh was there too and bought drinks for the two girls rubbing on his back. It was a fun party, and I’m sure it was the best birthday Joy has had this year.
The MJ versus Joy thing and Josh visiting reminded me of something I hadn’t really thought about for years. Josh calls me by my middle name, Mark, and is one of the few people left on this planet who do so (his father, my brother, is another of them). When I was born, my dad wanted to name me John, and my mom preferred Mark. So, I became John Mark. Growing up, my dad called me John, and my mom and brothers called me Mark. At school, I was John. The kids I knew from the neighborhood called me Mark. I guess I’m lucky I didn’t experience schizophrenia as a result. However, my John persona was the more serious version of me, while Mark was the party guy pothead. Over time as I grew up and moved around the country, people all called me by my work name John, and that is who I have become. Having Josh call me Mark is still a bit surprising to hear, but it brings back fun memories.
After we departed the party at Hideaway, I took Josh up to the rooftop at BarCelona.
Josh could enjoy a cigar with his beer in this open-air environment.And it was nice to watch the sunset from our vantage point
I also took Josh to Wet Spot so he could get a taste of what a bar with dancers was all about. The young cutie Mevelyn was looking especially enticing in her braless midriff top. I can’t remember if I bought her a drink or not. Yeah, it was a bit past my limit at this point.
I finished my evening with a nightcap at Johansson’s, where Josh is lodging. I went home, but my friend Reggie was there, and she messaged me this morning that Josh kept her up late with drinks and pool games. Yep, definitely kinfolk.
Facebook memories took me back to this day in 2017:
In the emergency room at the Army hospital on Yongsan Garrison. That was the day I received the diagnosis for my increasingly frequent breathing attacks–COPD. I blogged about that experience here. No cure, but I’m still around six years later, although I’m using my nebulizer with increasing frequency.
And in other health news, John, the restauranteur/foodie, has been hospitalized. Here’s the disturbing post from his Facebook page:
It’s me again. I guess I was not as healthy as I thought I was. My HB level is less than half of normal and hospital is requesting of blood transfusion. I need at least a couple pints to help the situation. I don’t understand why a big hospital like this has no blood, but A + is out of stock. It sucks to ask but those who have same type. I need 4 sessions of dialysis for now, but due to HB level so low, my heart cannot take it. My survival rate would be very low. So I am asking blood donation. Doctor indicates the dialysis may or may not be permanent. Too early to say but initial treatment is a MUST
Good luck, John. Hope they can cure what ails you soon.
In a story with a happy ending, here’s the dog I always saw tied to the end of a short leash with no food or water on this date in 2019:
And here he is today:
He’s my Lucky boy
I was pretty surprised when Gen sent me this picture of her pussy:
Meow!
Had a good hike up Black Rock with the Wednesday Walkers this morning–I’ll post about that tomorrow. Gonna take Josh out for some barhopping this evening and show him the ropes. For as long as I last, anyway.
It’s strange sometimes how your mind takes you to places you never thought you’d go. I took one of those little side trips this morning, and it turned out to be kinda fun. I’ve already forgotten what the Quora question being answered was, but the response included a reference to Paul Newman playing the banjo in a scene from the movie Cool Hand Luke. Wow, I hadn’t thought of that film in years, but it has always been one of my favorites. Recalling that scene of Newman with the banjo got me trying to think of what the song was that he was singing. I knew I really liked it, but I was drawing a blank. So the search was on. And with the help of Duckduckgo (fuck you, Google!) I found it:
The clip’s context is that Luke, a prisoner, just received word that his mother had passed away. The other inmates give him some space, and he picks up the banjo and sings this song. The Quora answer that led me down this road talked about Newman learning to play the banjo for this scene.
Here in the real world, yesterday’s Hash seemed to go well. There were many positive comments about the trail from the Hashers, and no one got lost or injured. For some inexplicable reason, three of the girls voluntarily took the long trail and were the last ones to reach our On-Home at Johansson’s. I was worried about them and relieved when they finally showed up.
Hashers gathering at VFW for last-minute instructions from my co-Hare, Anal Retentive.And off they go.On-On!
Sorry, I haven’t seen anyone posting pictures from the trail, so that’s all I have for now.
While the Hashers were out, I went to the Outback pool bar to check on Josh. He was ensconced on a beach-view stool and tapped into the wifi, working on a course assignment for his Masters in Divinity he is completing online. Josh had asked me earlier where he could buy some shorts, and I suggested he take a trike to Divimart, a few blocks up the road from his room. He was wearing shorts, so I was glad to see they had his size. I asked how he liked his first trike ride, and he said it was pretty cramped and uncomfortable. Then he told me the driver had charged him 300 pesos. What? That’s a 50 peso ride at most, even with the “skin tax” (a Filipino wouldn’t pay more than 20P for such a short trip). I felt bad that he had gotten scammed on his first day in town, but he really should have known better.
Josh is trying to get back in shape after being laid up for months with a severely broken leg. He walks with a limp now and has this massive bump on his hip that will require surgery to remove. He did okay on the Baloy hike, but no way he could do some of those trails up in the hills. Still, he is lucky to even be alive after getting run over by a truck while riding his motorcycle.
Josh sent me this photo of the aftermath of the accident.
The On-Home was where Josh is staying, and I invited him to watch the circle proceedings (he’d have to buy his beer from the bar, though). He seemed to enjoy the spectacle, especially some of the Hash songs. We’ll see if he wants to participate in the Hash rituals sometime during his visit.
I was feeling tired at the conclusion of the Hash (the Angeles trip had interrupted my sleeping hours), so I went home directly after we finished the free beer portion of the circle, and I was in bed by 7:30. That might be a new record for this oldtimer. Josh was already “home” and hung out with a couple of the female Hashers, Trouble Cumming and Black And Dick Her.
It looks like they had a good time! Josh told me they did a couple of more bars after the Hash together. Glad there was a McCrarey around to fill the void.
Today is Joy’s birthday, and I’ll be doing a special feeding at Hideaway bar in her honor. I invited Josh to join the festivities, gave him directions, and told him no more than 50 pesos for the ride. We’ll see how that works out.
It’s Hash Monday, but since I’m a Hare, I have already made the trail. I’ll meet the group at the VFW starting point, offer guidance, and send them on their way.
The short version is 6K with one big climb. The long trail is 8K with two ups.A view from the top of the first climbEastern mountain valley viewMy co-Hare and the Blessed Virgin Mother. Ed and his girl came out last week and repaired and repainted the statue.Near the end of the trail, the descent into Barretto.
I hope everyone enjoys the trail. Nothing all that new to see and not particularly challenging for most folks, but it’s still a pleasant hike.
The Hideaway feeding went well last night. I had several dishes from the Jewel restaurant delivered, and the girls devoured the feast in record time. My cornbread also seemed quite popular.
Isn’t that right, Joy?
I had a few and bought a few, as usual. I got home and set my alarm for 12:30 in anticipation of my driver’s 1 a.m. arrival. I woke up a little after one to pee and had an “oh shit!” moment when I remembered where I was supposed to be. I’m not sure what happened, but my phone was lying on the floor, and the alarm had been turned off. Next time I will keep my phone out of arm’s reach.
Anyway, we arrived at the airport just as passengers were beginning to exit the terminal. We were loaded up in the car within ten minutes and headed home to Barretto.
I took Josh for a walk on Baloy Beach this morning and followed up with lunch at Sit-n-Bull.
The floating bar is still a work in progress, but progress is being made. Looking forward to having a water view now and then when I’m drinking.
I’ll be traveling to Angeles City in the wee hours of the morning to pick up my nephew Joshua, who will be arriving at Clark airport at 0230. The purpose of the visit is to secure a work visa in Korea (he plans to teach English like his brother Justin), which apparently must be applied for at a Korean embassy. Anyway, he’ll be here for a week or two and is looking forward to seeing some of the Philippines during his visit. We’ll see what I can arrange, but I will definitely introduce him to the nightlife here in Barretto. Unfortunately, my current living quarters doesn’t have a guest room. I have rectified that by securing lodging for Josh at the Johansson’s Lodge–a small fan room (no air con) for only 500 pesos a night. One of my buds has already accused me of being a cruel uncle for making such Spartan arrangements, but Josh says it sounds perfect. Besides, the lobby area is open 24 hours and he can hang out there if he gets claustrophobic. Anyway, having another McCrarey in town ought to spice up the daily drivel I post here some. Justin will be joining us later in the visit.
Picking up where I left off in yesterday’s post, the pot roast came out tender and tasty.
It had been a long time since I’d had some cornbread, so I baked up a batch to go with my stew. I’ll be taking the leftovers to the feeding at Hideaway tonight. No need to have delicious carbs hanging around the house tempting me to cheat on my diet.
Joy had messaged me saying she was craving a banana-walnut muffin. I just responded, “sorry.” Actually, there were two left, my helpers having helped themselves to the other eight. Again, fine with me–out of sight, out of mind. I decided to surprise Joy with a special muffin delivery to Hideaway.
The view as I departed the neighborhood
Joy was indeed surprised to see me and especially delighted to see the baggie with muffins in my shirt pocket. She devoured them both before I remembered to get the Joy with her mouth full shot. Sorry to disappoint; I won’t make that mistake again during tonight’s feeding.
I stayed at Hideaway for two or three drinks, which was long enough for me to get bit by the “buy all the girls a drink” bug. Oh well, how do you put a price tag on those smiles?
I had another mission to accomplish last night–what happened at the SOB that I don’t remember? When I got to Wet Spot, I sat down next to the manager, Bret, and asked if I had done anything stupid during my attendance at Friday’s contest. He assured me my behavior was fine, and it appeared I was having a good time with the gal I was sharing drinks with. That was a relief. Then my waitress came over, and I told her I didn’t remember paying my tab last night. She said I had asked to pay early before the contest winners had been announced. Did I give you and the girl I was with a tip? Yes. What’s her name, anyway? Mevelyn. Damn, I’ll never remember that. Anyway, she said she was really surprised when I left; she thought I was just going to the CR. Yeah, it is weird. I’ve never not stayed for the contest results before. And then Mevelyn walked by, and I called her over and bought them both a drink. Mevelyn said I had behaved, and the only touching I did was gently rubbing her leg.
Okay, I still don’t remember anything, but I’m glad I wasn’t a drunken asshole. I really don’t like them and never want to be one.
Here’s the winning performance by the Wet Spot dancers. It feels like I just watched it for the first time. Scary.
Well done, ladies. I’m sure I must have voted you first!
Anal Receptive and I marked the Hash trail this morning, all 8K of it. Took us over four hours to complete the mission. It kicked my ass, but we got it done. I’ll post some pictures from the trail tomorrow.
And here are there results from this week’s weigh-in: 218.6 pounds, down 1.1 from last week and 6.7 since January 1. Little by little, I’m getting there.
Yes, I miss my beer. And the gin seems to be messin’ with my brain. But I’m not giving up until I reach my goal. Or forget about it.
My “let’s go, Brandon” moments are increasing with a distressing regularity (like using road for rode), but I’m not sure I can blame my forgetfulness last night on dementia. Well, let me rephrase that: I can’t remember what happened last night. To be more precise, I can remember up to a certain point, then it goes blank. I can only speculate on why that may be, but I’m pretty sure gin played a role. Here’s what I do remember:
So, it was SOB night at Wet Spot. There was a large group of Vietnam-era Navy veterans in town, and they were going to attend the event. Wet Spot is a large bar, but I knew I’d have to arrive early to secure a good seat. I went to The Green Room next door a little after 4:00 to wait for the 5 p.m. opening of Wet Spot. I ordered a gin and soda to help pass the time. Then the waitress from Sit-n-Bull came by with a menu, so I figured having some food in my belly as a cushion for the alcohol would be a good idea. Meatloaf was one of the daily specials, and it had been quite some time since I’d partaken of that particular delicacy. I enjoyed another gin and soda with my meal. Around 4:45, I peeked (shit, I wrote peaked at first) inside Wet Spot and saw there was a slew of seats reserved for the Vets, and a couple of SOB attendees were already seated. I got another gin and soda to go (Green Room and Wet Spot have the same owner and an inside passageway so customers can move between the bars at their leisure. I just wasn’t sure the bar would be serving before opening time, so I brought a drink with me).
So, I settled into my preferred seat at the VIP table and waited for the show to begin at 6:00 p.m. My favorite waitress didn’t let my drink run dry during the wait. It was wise that I arrived early because it wasn’t long before the bar was packed like I’d never seen before. The Wet Spot dancers provided some entertainment on stage for the crowd to enjoy. That’s when I spotted a young lovely (I believe she is nineteen) that I had noticed several weeks ago on her first night at work. That night she looked distressed and so painfully shy that I thought she would cry. I guess she is adapting to her new job responsibilities because I did not see any similar symptoms as I watched her on stage. I like to have a companion when I watch the SOB, so I brought her down from the stage and bought her a drink.
Yeah, that’s a crappy photo, and she was shy about getting her picture taken. I wish I could remember her name. Maybe this memory loss is my Karma for trashing the Cheap Charlie’s waitress for forgetting my name.
So, at 6 o’clock, the bell was rung, and all customer drinks were “free” until 8 p.m. (the entrance fee is 700 pesos). I kept paying for my company’s drinks. I was once again tasked with being a judge and dutifully completed the scoresheet, but I don’t recall who I chose as the competition winners. Nor do I know who actually won last night. If I was still present when the winning teams were brought up on stage, I have no recollection of that event. In fact, the last thing I remember was having my name called to collect my raffle coupons. They were in my wallet this morning, so there’s that.
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t remember leaving the bar. I was worried I might not have paid my tab or tipped my company. I saw owner Dave at Sit-n-Bull today after my walk and told him I didn’t remember last night. He just laughed and said I had a good time with the young lady next to me. Hmm. Well, I guess if I hadn’t paid, he would have told me. I might stop back at Wet Spot tonight and see if anyone there can restore my memories.
I do remember the Friday group hike, though. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it! Only four of us were in attendance, and we split up into pairs about halfway into our journey–the healthy guys tackled another climb, and I took my tired lungs for a valley walk.
Bhel, Stuart, and JimIt looks like they are building a new road in Alta Vista.Off the beaten trackDown to the watering holeNear the top of my only climb of the day.Cookie deliveryAn Easter mountain viewBhel joined me for the valley walkThe blue house of my dreams. I talked to the landlord the other day, and she is still waiting for her UK visa.Life on the riversideYou are welcomeWe went thataway
That’s how my Friday went down. As far as I remember.
Speaking of memories, Facebook shared this photo of a dinner I enjoyed six years ago in Seoul.
Now, that’s what samgyeopsal is supposed to look like!
That story of Chinese spying has been floating all over the internet. I think maybe it is being blown all out of proportion:
Or maybe not.
Spent some time in the kitchen this morning.
Banana-walnut muffinsBeef roast with seasoning sauceAnd a kaleidoscope of veggies to stew with the beef. I will find out in a couple of hours how it comes out.
I’ll be back with another post tomorrow. Unless I forget.
Thursday’s highlight was a visit from Joy, then sharing dinner with her at one of the new samgyeopsal houses here in Barretto.
We did Set BThe sidesMeat on the grillMeat on the plateMeat in the mouth
I’d rate the food overall as mediocre. I know I’m spoiled by all those years in Korea, but how can you not get samgyeopsal right? None of the three types was more than paper-thin; whether that was why it was almost tasteless, I can’t say. The sides were nothing special either, and the kimchi sucked. I enjoyed being in Joy’s company for the meal but not much else. Oh, and I knew the restaurant wouldn’t have gin, but the only beer they had was San Miguel Pilsner. I wasn’t going to break my diet for a beer I don’t even like. I had water with my meal.
Joy went home after dinner, and I hit the bars, starting with It Doesn’t Matter. Fellow Hasher Jim showed up a bit later, and I had company at the bar I didn’t have to pay for. We did a bit of a bar crawl, hitting BarCelona next. I don’t frequently visit there, but they all knew Jim by name. The bartender had a hot body and a friendly personality. Good combination!
Walking the highway between bars as the sun goes down
Next up was Sloppy Joe’s. I’m liking this bar more and more. It’s got the outside seating I like and good service. It seems to be getting very popular too. We had a couple of drinks here, then Jim headed home. I went next door to Alaska for my nightcap and hoped to see Virginia. Alas, she hadn’t shown up for work again. Oh, well. Her loss. I’ll use the money I saved on lady drinks to pay my entrance fee for tonight’s SOB.
I did a solo morning walk on the neighborhood streets on Matain and through the Santa Monica subdivision.
The dirty riverBoats on the bayA quiet street in MatainA view from Govic highwayIn Santa Monica subdivisionHere’s how it looked from above. And yes, I grabbed some lunch to go from Sit-n-Bull at the end.Almost 8K altogether.
I played around with that ChatGPT thing for a few minutes. I asked it who I am and it said I’m a nobody:
I’m sorry, but without additional context, I cannot determine who John Mark McCrarey is. It is possible that John Mark McCrarey is an individual who is not widely known or someone who uses a pseudonym.
I guess that may be true, but what about my blog?
I’m sorry, but I don’t have information on a specific blog named “Long Time Gone”. It is possible that the blog is a personal blog or a niche blog with a limited audience, and therefore may not have information readily available online. To find out more about the blog, you may try searching for it on the internet or contacting the author or administrator of the blog directly.
Oh, well. I’ll keep trying to make something of myself someday.
Well, now I’ve gone and done it. Yesterday I purchased a Yamaha motorbike. And then I gave it away.
The scooter and its happy new owner, Jane
Jane is my friend who lives on the mountain with her two half-American (Fil-Am) children. The father died a couple of years ago, and the support money he had been sending from the states died with him. I adopted Jane as my primary charity project and provided her an allowance of 2000 pesos per week to feed and clothe her kids. On Tuesday, when she came to pick up the money, she said there was something wrong with the engine of her motorbike. I gave her an extra thousand to get it looked at, but I had my doubts. I know nothing about these small scooters, but hers just looked worn out to me. And sure enough, she messaged me later saying they had torn the engine apart and there was so much wrong it didn’t warrant repair.
Jane was really stressing out, and I can’t say that I blame her. She lives up on the mountain past the end of Rizal Extension, down a dirt road. It’s a long way from anywhere. In fact, I first met Jane when one of the hikers I was with who knew her husband introduced us as we walked by her place. Her biggest concern was not having a way to get her kids to and from school. Getting groceries and other supplies would also be a major pain in the ass. I asked her how much it would cost to replace her scooter, and she estimated it would be 60,000 pesos ($1200.). I was actually surprised because I assumed it would cost a lot more than that. I thought it over, and not seeing any alternatives, I told her to see if she could get a new one, but only if the shop accepted credit cards. My thinking was I could pay down the debt gradually and not bust my budget.
This is a funny country in that credit cards are not accepted in many stores–I only use mine at Royal supermarket each week. The first couple of motorbike shops she checked didn’t accept card payments, but she finally found one that did deep in the heart of Olongapo. I had my driver take Jane and me there yesterday afternoon. The bike she found was 75,000 ($1500.), but it appears to be a quality brand-name scooter. I’d never made a purchase that large on my card before and wasn’t sure it would work, but the transaction went through on the first try—and Jane road rode home on her brand-new motorbike*.
She messaged me later, sending photos, including the one above. One of her pics was from a church where she had stopped to thank the Lord for my generosity. Well, I guess I can take “credit” this time. *ahem* That was a record-breaking charity expenditure for me, but it was also one that will make a huge difference in someone’s life. I don’t know what Jane would have done up there without transportation. I feel blessed that I had the means to assist her, even though I had to charge the gift. Good luck and ride safely, Jane!
In other news, I also performed my feeding project at Hideaway. Spending 1500 on food (pizza, chicken, liempo, and rice) seemed like a pittance after buying a motorbike.
Joy porking out on pork liempo. It’s her birthday on Tuesday, so I’ll be doing my food service a day early next week.
Joy asked if I wanted to play pool, and I didn’t, but I said you play your pal Jen, and I’ll give the winner a hundred pesos. And the game was on.
Jen usually dominates Joy, but they are both excellent players.Joy impressed me with the quality of her shots.And Jen didn’t miss much, either.
And in the end, it was Joy who prevailed. I paid off both players, then paid my bar tab and said goodnight. I wasn’t done yet, of course. Next stop, Cheap Charlies!
I bought drinks for two of my regulars and ignored the one who didn’t remember my name. I guess she got the hint because she got up and walked away. Now I actually feel a little bad about my behavior, but one girl on each side of me is plenty. After a couple of more drinks, I crossed the highway and finished my night at Wet Spot.
What else? Well, it’s my little brother’s birthday:
Happy birthday, Greg. That photo is from April 1960, so he was three, and I was four. Older bro Keith was seven back then.
I did the Wednesday Walkers hike, well, as much as I could manage. The old lungs have been acting up–a lot of coughing and shortness of breath. And then we did a steep-ass climb early on, and I was wiped out for the rest of the walk.
Our group for the dayHeading out down the highwayThat steep ass hill really kicked my ass.I took a picture of Easter mountain so I could pause and try and catch my breath.It was slow going for this old guy, and everyone was waiting when I finally made it to the top.Through some farmland…corn on the left, rice on the right.A river crossingWalking the plank
Shortly afterward, I said my goodbyes to the group and took my sorry ass home. Of course, there was a trip to the motorbike store in my immediate future, but I’ve already told that story.
And that’s how my Wednesday went down. Hope to see you all here tomorrow.
…and so is January. I’ve got big plans for February.
It’s gonna be a challenge, but if I put my mind to it, I think I can pull this off.
A quiet day of shopping and replenishing the cash supply, and then it was time to take myself out on a date. Table for one, please.
A little liquid refreshment to kick things off
Placed my order for dinner, then strolled out onto the beach for a closer look.
I was at Mango’s. That floating island belongs to the Palm Tree Resort next door.Beaches to the left of me……beaches to the right.
And then, dinner is served.
When I’m at Mango’s, the odds are high that I’ll be enjoying the grilled pork chops. They didn’t disappoint.Actually, that is often what I do. Then I move on to another bar.
After my meal, I was thinking I’d visit Whiskey Girl. It’s nearby and doesn’t require making a highway crossing. Alas, it wasn’t open yet. So, I did risk life and limb and dashed across the highway to Queen Victoria. Another gin and soda and a brief chat with one of my Alta Vista neighbors and his wife. They left, and my glass was empty, but none of the staff seemed to notice or care, so I paid my tab and left.
I wasn’t sure where my next stop would be, but my feet were taking me in the direction of Alaska Club. Sloppy Joe’s is next door, and I knew several of the people sitting at the outside tables, so I joined them. Around the time I finished my first drink, most of the group got up and left to play a pool league match. I ordered another and chatted with an old female friend I hadn’t seen for a while. She’s living with her new boyfriend now, and I was regaled with stories that reminded me of the drama that seems to be part and parcel of most relationships. She’s a good woman, and I hope they have a happy life together.
Still trying to learn to qualify for one of these–practice, practice, practice!
Time for that Alaska visit. Virginia and I made eye contact the minute I walked through the door. Naturally, I invited her to join me as soon as I was seated.
They don’t come much cuter than that, do they? I think she told me she was 23. I don’t do takeout, but she’s definitely tempting.
And we weren’t alone for long. Our waitress and the best dancer on the Alaska SOB squad, Karen, was being so sweet that I wanted to treat her to a lady drink. And another gal I’ve known since I moved here was hovering about in anticipation of participating in the bounty of a free-spending customer. Hey, the more, the merrier!
Not a great photo. I’m thinking about switching back to my old phone. Still, I’d love to be the white meat on a brown bread sandwich of Virginia and Karen. Yum!
When I’d had my fill of fun at Alaska, I crossed the highway again to finish my night out at Whiskey Girl.
I don’t recall my doctor ever saying that.
My favorite waitress, Jen, served me as soon as I was seated at a front-row table. Of course, Jen joined me to enjoy my company her lady drink commission. The dancers were actually putting on the moves enough that I noticed them.
The one on the right caught my eye because it appeared she was cold. At least if her braless nipples were to be believed. Being the gentlemen that I am, I invited her down for a lady drink so she could warm up.
All good times must come to an end, and my time had arrived. I said goodnight to the girls and gave manager Mark a hearty “fuck off, ya cunt!” as I departed. Being a Brit, I am sure he had a witty comeback, but I don’t recall what it was now.
In the non-drinking portion of my day, I spent some quality time with my boys.
Buddy is always by my side.And Lucky is in the land of sweet dreams.
During my internet cruising, Facebook memories reminded me of just how much things have changed since this post from five years ago:
That’s me on the far right end of the bar at my favorite Itaewon pub, Shenanigans. Not a bargirl in sight! Eight years ago, I threw my best-ever game of darts. If I could still throw like that, I wouldn’t have quit.
An old friend of mine back in Korea sent me a message with a link to something called Sweatcoin. Apparently, you can earn bitcoin-like currency simply by walking, earning one coin for every 1000 steps you take. You can use these coins to purchase items on their website or donate your earnings to charities supported by the website. I’m not sure what the angle is because I don’t see any potential for profit (I didn’t sign up for the premium plan, so maybe that’s it), but I’ve decided to take the risk and give it a try (the risk is giving them access to things like your email and phone number). We’ll see what happens, but I’m going to walk regardless, so if I can “earn” something by doing so, why not?
I guess I must have been bored, but I decided to mess around with ChatGPT some more. One of the questions I asked was: Why do so many foreign men move to the Philippines?
There are several reasons why many foreign men move to the Philippines:
Cost of Living: The cost of living in the Philippines is lower compared to many Western countries, making it an attractive destination for retirees and budget-conscious individuals.
Friendly people: The Philippines is known for its friendly and hospitable people, which makes it a welcoming place for foreigners.
Beautiful scenery: The country is famous for its stunning beaches, lush jungles, and scenic landscapes, which can be a major draw for people looking to enjoy a tropical lifestyle.
Language: English is widely spoken in the Philippines, which makes it easier for English-speaking foreigners to communicate and integrate into the local community.
Dating and Marriage: The Philippines is also a popular destination for foreign men seeking to date or marry Filipina women, who are known for their beauty, kindness, and traditional values.
These are some of the reasons why many foreign men choose to move to the Philippines. Of course, individual experiences and motivations will vary.
Those are all legit, and I guess you could call what goes on in the bars “dating,” although that’s a stretch. Maybe I’ll go back and explore the prostitution angle more in-depth with my new friend.
And that’s it for now. Got a feeding at Hideaway to prepare for. Back tomorrow, provided I’m still allowed to post.
