It was close to Christmas when we arrived
in Tagbilaran, the port city that serves as the gateway to Bohol, a
short ferry ride from Cebu City. We were pleased to leave Cebu City and in
particular, the hotel we stayed at in Cebu, behind us. The hotel itself was fine
but its bar served as setting the scene for the stereotypical old Western man
with young Asian girl that forms part of the Western travelers impression of
South East Asia. Bohol was in full Christmas spirit, with the
plaza opposite the Cathedral of San Jose, an old Spanish colonial church, festooned
with festive decorations. Large images of Madonna and child hang from the
trees. It was a carnival like atmosphere, with the church acting as the fulcrum
for proceedings. The Catholic Church has a strong presence on Bohol, with one
of the Philippines oldest churches, the Church
of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, dating back in part to the 16th
Century. We visited this church the day after arriving, which was made by the efforts of 200 native forced labourers, using stones cut
into square blocks and then piled on top of each other, with apparently, the
whites of a million eggs to cement them together. Attached is a convent, that
houses a small museum with a collection of relics and artifacts, as well as a
dungeon, used to punish natives who violated the rules of the Roman Catholic
Church and a number of creepy looking statues who are supposed to depict saints
but came across as more demonic than angelic.
 |
| Christmas decorations |
The beautiful white sand beaches of relatively nearby Boracay, recently voted the world’s best island by the magazine, Travel+ Leisure, have overshadowed Bohol. Bohol, though, has its own array of pristine beaches and resorts as well as claiming two drawcards that Boracay can’t – the Chocolate Hills and the Tarsier Sanctuary, a conservation centre that acts as a visitor centre, venue for research and a habitat preserve all in one. We told our driver that these were the two sights in Bohol that were must sees. True to form though, the first stop on our tour was to view the blood pact statue, overlooking the ocean, one of the triumvirate of sights, along with the tarsiers and the Chocolate Hills, that features predominantly on Bohol travel booklets. The statue commemorates the arrival of Miguel López de Legazpi, a Spanish explorer, who arrived looking for loot, in the form of gold and spices. He managed to persuade the locals that he wasn’t Portuguese (true) and that he wasn’t out to exploit them (no doubt a lie). The reward for such skilled negotiation was the peace pact López de Legazpi signed with a local chieftain, a pact solidified by a blood contract between the pair, consecrated in the statue that is now a popular spot for tour operators to take visitors. It is one of Bohol’s most reproduced images, depicted on the provincial flag and seal as well as on a multitude of tourist flyers.
 |
| Boracay beach-life |
Back in the taxi, the next stop was supposed to be the Tarsier
Sanctuary. The driver had told us the previous day that he knew where it was, an
assertion he repeated, after I double-checked he knew the way. I was really
keen to go to this sanctuary, where up to 100 Philippine
Tarsiers can be observed in (almost) natural habitat. Conversely, I was keen to
avoid going to one of the roadside stalls on the road to the Chocolate Hills
that display tarsiers. Tarsiers are notoriously poor captive animals. Captive
tarsiers allegedly have a shortened life expectancy, experience health
problems, in particular eye problems, and apparently have a tendency to “commit
suicide” by crushing its skull by hitting it against objects (however, this may
be another leaping lemming scenario and may not be true). No doubting though
that these roadside stalls wouldn’t be the most friendly place for an
emotionally frazzled tarsier.
 |
| Tarsier |
Of
course, as so often happens, when travelling in non-English speaking countries,
there was the inevitable communication breakdown. We stopped on the way to the
Chocolate Hills. “What is this?”, I asked the driver, already despairingly
knowing the answer. “Tarsier here, get out” was the unwanted response. This is
not what I wanted. Our driver’s English, which had seemed exemplary until now,
now seemed rudimentary. I asked him about the sanctuary-he had never heard of
it. I showed him on the map (like I had the day, an hour before, when he
promised us he knew all about it). It was too far out of our way now, he said.
If we went there, we wouldn’t be able to get to the Chocolate Hills. I didn’t
know what to do so I sulked in the car, refusing to get out while
the driver refused to change the schedule to take us to the sanctuary. The (Filipino)
standoff went on for a few minutes until I relented, deciding that I would have
a look at the stall and if the tarsiers were being mistreated, I’d get back
into the car. I had to admit, however begrudgingly, that the stall wasn’t as
bad as it could have been for the tarsiers, although I’m guessing that it
wasn’t ideal for them either. There were signs up asking us not to use flash
photography (that hurts their oversized eyes) and to not to touch the tarsiers,
so there were no gimmicky tarsier photos on offer, meaning that the tarsiers
here weren’t being too exploited.
 |
| Tarsier two |
Tarsiers
are unusual looking creatures, like a mix between E.T and Gollum, with oversized
eyes and long, thin fingers. Their eyes are said to be the biggest of all
mammals, in terms of eye to body ratio. Nocturnal predators, their large eyes
give them an advantage when it comes to catching the insects that form the bulk
of their diet. They have a certain fragile charm that makes them quite
beguiling. They sat holding on tightly to branches and seemed pretty relaxed by
the invasion of their privacy. Their cuteness is also a curse, making them
popular (if unsuitable) pets. Predation by cats, loss of habitat and the pet
trade have had a severe impact on the numbers of wild tarsiers on Bohol. While
we never got there, the efforts of the Sanctuary are to be commended, hopefully
ensuring the survival of the species, even if I never got there due to the
capricious whims of our driver.
 |
| Some of the Chocolate Hills |
After
the tarsier stall, we continued on to the Chocolate Hills, the second of our
two obligatory stops for the day. I don’t know exactly when I first learnt about the Chocolate Hills. I
know that they were featured in one of the nature books that I used to spend my
pocket money on when I was a kid, so I would guess that was when I had first heard
of them. Regardless of where or how I learnt of them, the Chocolate Hills are
somewhere that I have always wanted to visit. The Chocolate Hills are an
unusual formation of conical and almost symmetrically shaped hillocks,
sprouting out of the ground like 30 metre high fungi. They consist of at least 1,260 hills
and maybe more than 1700 hills (I’m not sure why they can’t get an accurate
count, after all hills can’t move) sprawled out over an area of more than 50
square kilometers. These hills consist of marine limestones, although I
prefer the local explanation that described the hills as being dried faeces
left behind by gods or giants. They
derive their name from their appearance during the dry season, when their green
grass is burnt brown. While the hills
are held in high enough regard to have been declared the country's third
National Geological Monument and proposed to be included in the UNESCO World Heritage List, they haven’t been exempted from exploitation,
with some hills quarried and others mined by small-scale enterprises. On the
whole though, I was left a
little underwhelmed by the Chocolate Hills. To be fair, we hadn’t came in the
dry season when their grass was burnt off, meaning the Chocolate Hills weren’t
chocolate at all but green (and it’s not easy being green). It seemed we were the only non-Russian tourists there. They hurried up the steps from the carpark to the lookout, took a quick
snap and then headed back to their tour bus as fast as possible. For once
though, this was a site where I didn’t need to linger at for an extended period of time.
 |
| Mary posing |
After the Chocolate Hills, our driver took us for
lunch on a floating restaurant, buffet on a boat that plows up and down the
Loboc River. The river is a dark,
mystery green colour surrounded by lush forest, with palms the predominant
vegetation lining its banks. On board, we were serenaded by a band as we dined,
who played a mix of standard English songs and more traditional Boholano songs,
passing the hat around at the end of the boat ride. At the end point of the
boat tour, the ‘villagers’ put on a cultural show, dancing, drumming and
singing (although I wouldn’t be surprised if the villagers were boated in from
surrounding towns to dance, drum and play for tourists). The best part of the
village visit was watching the boys jump into the river from the tops of tall
palm trees, partly done for show but mostly for fun.
 |
| A drummer at the village |
That night, I enjoyed a San Miguel, pleased that I
had ticked an item off what I would know call a bucket list. It could have been
a bad day, with the tarsier misunderstanding and the underwhelming ‘highlight”.
Somehow though, underwhelming or not, it’s always great to see something that
you have dreamt of seeing from an early age, with the bonus of a couple of
other sights that will live in our memory for a while.
