Palawan. A world-renowned paradise. I had read and heard so much about it. Heaven on earth. Turquoise waters, white sandy beaches. Quaint fishing villages. Fantastic snorkelling opportunities. Often figuring in “Best of” tourist-related lists. And whilst I have learned with my years of travelling to take such lists with a pinch of salt, as well as the many articles and posts that you find online, nothing could have prepared me for the shock I got in Palawan.
Sure, I was about to visit some beautiful natural landmarks, see some heavenly-looking beaches, and do some of the most amazing snorkelling. But at any point in my research, I had read about the levels of extreme poverty and underdevelopment I was to find in Palawan.
Puerto Princesa and the underground river
I was feeling weak when I got to Puerto Princesa. The travel from Boracay had been long. First ferry from Boracay to Malay where the airport is located. A van from the port to the airport. A stopover in Manila meant a little run as my first flight had been delayed. Then I landed in Puerto Princesa, where a taxi was waiting for me to take me to my accommodation for the next couple of nights.
The town itself doesn’t have much to see. It isn’t walkable at all, it’s loud and noisy as many South East Asian cities are, so after taking a walk, I ended up finding some peace inside a shopping centre… precisely the sort of place I avoid in my normal life for being crowded and inauthentic. But during my travels, this was where I could enjoy the air-con, some meals, and tranquillity indoors. This is also where I bought my Philippines magnets. I was really feeling like my body was giving out, and had a very Western meal in there, as I felt I needed something comfortable and familiar. It was ironic how tired I was feeling when I had spent the previous week simply doing the bare minimum in Boracay… I could only hope I would feel a lot better the next day. I had booked a tour to visit the underground river, and I knew it was going to be a long day. After all, that was the whole reason I had stayed in Puerto Princesa.
Sadly, it was not a good tour, and I have nothing good to say about it. First, they came to pick me up a lot earlier than expected and I was still getting dressed in the morning when the guy at reception came knocking on my door saying they were waiting for me… 25 minutes earlier. I rushed to get dressed and got into the van. I apologised, which I shouldn’t have. Especially bearing in mind that I was only the second guest they were picking up, and if they were early for me, it meant they were also earlier for many others, and I spent about 1h00 just going to pick up and wait for guests who, like me, had been caught by surprise.
It is still almost a 2-hour ride from Puerto Princesa to the underground river. Puerto Princesa Subterranean River was granted UNESCO Heritage Site status in 1999 due to its unique natural value. It is one of the longest navigable underground rivers in the world, stretching for approximately 8.2 Km. It flows directly into the South China Sea, and as you get in you will be granted a true spectacle of stunning limestone formations, creating what can only be described as an underground art gallery. I also couldn’t believe my eyes – the waters were of such striking blue, that looking at it felt like looking at an edited photo. Except that it was real, and I was a living witness of it.
The guided tour inside the caves was done using headphones, meaning a pre-recorded tour – and the boat driver would point at the right places timely. The reason why it’s done this way is to protect the very sensitive fauna that inhabits the caves. Any noise had to be kept to a minimum. I was really pleased to see this was a sustainable and responsible tour that won’t endanger the ecosystem.
After this though, things took a turn. We were taken to lunch, which was not good at all, and I’m not usually this picky. It was also so hot that my appetite disappeared, especially when facing such bad-looking food. I was feeling quite weak, with that tiredness from the previous day coming back in full force.
There were also a couple of optional activities for the afternoon – a Mangrove forest tour and ziplining. I was not interested in any of these. I had done a tour of Langkawi’s Mangrove forest and it had been so spectacular that I felt this one would have been underwhelming and a waste of my money. But the only family with us on the tour wanted to do it, which is fine – and when the tour guide noticed she couldn’t convince the rest of us to join in, she became quite rude. I’m sure she was getting commission out of tickets sold, and she was mostly pissed her commission wasn’t going to be anything special as 90% of her guests weren’t interested in the bloody mangrove nor the ziplining activity. The worst part though is that we had to wait outside, in the heat, where there was nowhere to sit! I literally sat in a trunk in the shade of a tree, whilst some others just straight off lay down on the floor and started to sleep (some of them looked hangover if I’m being honest).
Feeling sick, I sat uncomfortably for over an hour. And when we finally started the journey back, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. The guy sitting next to me fell asleep and all of his body weight kept leaning into me.
Whilst the underground river was an absolute highlight of my time in Palawan, my time in Puerto Princesa was definitely not the best. And things were about to get worse.
Port Barton, an underdeveloped town
I had booked my transport from Puerto Princesa to Port Barton, and I was looking forward to it. I was a little nervous about it, unsure if it included pick up from my accommodation. The lady at reception noticed my nervousness and without me asking, contacted the company to ensure they were coming to pick me up. I was so grateful to her. The Filipino hospitality is like no other.
I had included Port Barton in my itinerary as I had heard about its stillness and its beauty. Once again no one had mentioned the many issues that exist there. Firstly, staying in Port Barton isn’t cheap. I researched for quite a bit, and eventually went for a Bungalow with raving reviews on Booking.com. I had found quite a few options where there wasn’t wifi or hot water, and this one seemed to have everything – which made sense bearing in mind it was a little more expensive than others.
I knew I was getting something like the flu. My whole body ached when I got to Port Barton, carrying my heavy backpack for just 10 10-minute walk in the heat from where the van had dropped me off to the accommodation wasn’t easy. And once I got there, I knew I had made a mistake. There wasn’t AC, only a fan. There wasn’t wifi. My mobile data didn’t work. And to top it all off, there wasn’t enough water pressure for showering – meaning bucket showers. Thankfully I had a kettle where I would warm up some water to make it more bearable. And there were electricity cuts all the time, which meant that I would often be without power for the fan. And I was definitely ill.
With what, I wasn’t sure. My throat was incredibly sore and it even hurt to speak. But the worst of it was my back. I was in so much pain, and not even painkillers were helpful. This was the second time I got ill during these 4 months of travelling, but certainly the timing couldn’t have been worse. I was miles away from a hospital. Lying in bed panicking without a single distraction besides my Kindle, my mind thinking about all possible scenarios. When I felt slightly better I would go out to have a meal. But in one instance the pain was so unbearable that when I got up to pay, I had to sit down, and felt my strengths giving away – even the lady asked me if I was all right.
Port Barton is probably the most undeveloped place I have stayed on. There are only dusty dirt roads, and it was hard to see kids going to school breathing all of that. The constant electricity cuts and the lack of basic living conditions like running water are realities I had never had to face, and yet they were part of the day-to-day of the locals. You don’t find anything about this online when reading about Port Barton. “Charming fishing village” is hardly what I’d use to describe a place where people live way below standard living conditions. And the other thing that was hard for me to see was the number of stray dogs, most of them clearly ill and starving.
At one point, when feeling better, I was reading at the beach when a little Filipino girl approached me to say hello. My first reaction was to be cautious, as I’ve heard of tourists being robbed as locals used children as a distraction. I am also not good with children at all, so I felt a little like a fish out of the water. The girl asked my name and where I was from. Her English was perfect. She was nine years old. Told me she wasn’t from Port Barton, but her dad and brother were working in there. She had blackened teeth. She was very curious about my Kindle, which I tried to hide from her and had to be a bit rude when she kept trying to read it – I was reading a very gory book and some NSFW scenes were being described. She also asked me if she could play with my phone – I lied and said it was out of battery. I believe the girl didn’t have bad intentions – she wasn’t asking for money, or selling anything, like I had seen in so many other places. But I was incredibly surprised her English was so good, for such a small girl – who was clearly growing up in poverty and I found myself thinking about what kind of future was there for her. Someone so young and clearly already so smart.
I started to think about how we take our comforts for granted. Even having electricity and water for a shower. I didn’t even consider it a privilege until then. What is basic for me isn’t what’s basic for these people – if for me having hot running water and electricity is basic, for these people it isn’t. Actually, if they do have it, it’s probably more than they expect. How come a place that receives so many tourists a year, and surely gets so much money from this industry is still struggling so much? The Philippines surprised me precisely because of this – I’ve always heard about it as a dreamy holiday destination, so I didn’t expect to find such low living conditions, that often even you as a tourist have to bear.
But my strange flu wasn’t going away and eventually, I had to seek some help. My throat was so painful, and my back aches were becoming unbearable. I was also feeling feverish. Since I didn’t have wifi and my mobile data didn’t work either, I had to ask the host if there was any pharmacy nearby. Thankfully there was, and slowly, under extreme heat, I walked there. It was another strange experience. It was a pharmacy and grocery store, so it was odd to see some younger backpackers buying beer on the same counter where I was about to ask for something for whatever it was I was feeling. I explained my symptoms and she offered me some relief simply by saying that there was a strange flu around with the exact same symptoms I had described, and for me not to worry cause it usually went away in about a week. I asked if she had any thermometers, and they were sold out. So she gave me some choices of meds to take to relieve my throat, and I was shocked by the prices. I ended up buying one of those liquids you spray into your mouth, and I paid the equivalent of almost £10 for it. Again, the locals surely cannot afford this!
Thankfully, that did help, and I was almost recovered in time for the tour I did in Port Barton – island hopping with snorkelling. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but I had booked it and paid for it, and was definitely feeling a lot better, not wanting to spend another day in bed. It was such a fantastic tour. The boat took us to some beautiful places where there was barely anyone around, and the snorkelling was stunning, with undamaged corals shining in all their glory.
The sunsets in Port Barton were also spectacular but because of my weird sickness (which in my head I’m calling the Filipino flu) and missed most of it. There was a day as well when it rained quite a bit, which was for the best as the island desperately needed the water.
Overall I was struggling to reconcile my awe in regards to the beauty of the places I was seeing, and the contrasting reality of those who live in these islands. How could I truly enjoy myself when there was so much misery around me?
Arriving at the tip, El Nido
I was glad to leave Port Barton behind me, but in El Nido the reality wouldn’t be much better. The beach in El Nido is actually polluted. My hotel was a lot nicer, but the water came out yellowish from the tap. I hadn’t realised if I wanted to go to a proper beach, I would have to drive from the town to elsewhere or take a rickshaw. Thankfully, I ended up meeting a fellow Portuguese solo traveller, who was actually living in El Nido for a couple of months. She had a scooter and a lovely dog, and offered me a lift, taking me around some more interesting parts of El Nido. I am forever grateful for this, and for her company, and we’ve become friends since then.
There are multiple tours you can take in El Nido to other islands, lakes and for more snorkeling. I did one tour and it was extremely underwhelming. In fairness, it paled in comparison to the one I did in Port Barton as anywhere I went was so busy, so crowded.
From El Nido, my next and last destination in the Philippines would be Corón. But the way I got there was a bit different and one of the best experiences I would have during my time travelling Southeast Asia.
Love,
Nic
The Winged Bone 
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