It was only right that I meet her in an airport, on the ground charging our phones, hungry, and waiting for our delayed flight. After spending so much time lately thinking about why I travel and what I get out of it, it seemed quite fitting that yet another serendipitous friendship began in the way it always does when I travel.
At first, it was merely because I had access to the only outlets that worked. But then the natural instinct in me just seemed to take over as it always does, and the curiosity led to conversation, conversation to connection, and connection to the continuation of a 15 hour somewhat hellish, somewhat enjoyable adventure spent together.
Lotti is from Stuttgart, Germany. She’s 26, I think. I never ask for ages but I ask for information and do the math from there. She worked for a salt company in the sales department before quitting to travel (as most Europeans and Aussies do and as most Americans don’t). For the past 3 months she’s explored the depths of South East Asia, including a significant time in Hanoi, and around the Indonesian islands. She speaks French, German, Spanish, and English fluently, and she has a sister who is in her last year of high school who she is 8 years older than (math).
And both she and I were headed to the supposedly enchanting city of El Nido, Palawan in the Philippines- the hamlet backpackers gush endlessly about, but only under wraps, as they know sooner or later it will turn into the Thai and Vietnamese tourist locations that pump backpackers in and out on the daily.
A seemingly long two hours passed as we waited for our flight from Manila to Puerto Princessa. We talked about travel, our past history, our interest in international business but our semi-lack of desire to actually do work in the field, and some of the nooks and crannies in our lives that we rarely bring up to even our best of friends.
It makes me feel comfortable. When I travel with strangers, I can let my guard down and speak freely. They don’t care much for my opinion on the upcoming political race and the rise of Sanders contrasted with the antics of Trump. Instead, they care more for where I’ve been, what I’ve loved, what I’ve seen, heard, and felt. Where’s next on the travel list? Where’s the place to go? What are the things to do there?
After climbing down from the plane in a humid 80 degrees onto the tarmac of a decrepit airport that has been marred by the recent uptick in tourism, Lotti and I waited for her bag before our adventure continued. To be frank, it wasn’t really a nightmare to either of us. I’d venture to say it’s a frightening for some people, but to us, it was a roll-of-the-eyes, “this is island life” kind of day that you just learn to live with.
Walking out of the terminal, we’re surrounded by people begging to drive us to El Nido. “Please sir, I give you the best price” in a broken English that still outdoes most other foreigners. “I give you deal. I help you find tours. I take you safely.”
Lotti is a damn good backpacker. Her sales skills dazzled me and were extremely apparent in this situation. I let her do most of the negotiations and talking. She knew what she wanted (or seemed to at least), the price it was worth, and how much she’d be willing to spend.
We’d haggle for the price for the van to take us to El Nido. We were told it’d be a 5 hour trip, exactly what we were expecting. Once in the van and paid, we waited a little longer to catch any other stragglers headed to there. As we dwiddled our thumbs, people would come up to us in the van and say they’d give us the best prices for tours, which are the island hopping expeditions everyone does. A hilarious moment occurred when a younger boy offered to take us on tours for $1,000 PHP each, roughly equivalent to $21 USD. The initial price people listed was about 1.5k, so we considered it. They’re all in the cahoots together anyway. But we tell the boy we’ll consider it. Later, while vanning to El Nido, the driver offers us his package deal. We tell him the boy undercuts him by a couple hundred PHP, to which he replies in a 100% non-sarcastic, authentically surprised, “Oh, really…?” to which Lotti and I still crack up about. It was one of those moments in business where leverage is lost, and the conversation can simply go no further. We politely declined but took their number so we can call them if we want a tour. But it was hilarious. (The hostel we ended up staying at charges $800 PHP for a tour, so we got the best deal by waiting)
One of the things that I had a strikingly difficult realization about was when we passed a large, open area due to be built upon. An airport is being built there. Not some measly, 10 plane airport. A NICE airport. International, large, full of wealth and bustle. Made for tourists.
It’s weird because I don’t want to travel to a place everyone else has been. So I travel to the ones that aren’t as known. And El Nido is perfect for that. But over the past 6 months, more and more people have flocked there as an alternative for the Thailands, Vietnams, and Cambodias. I want to appreciate this place in the fullest, because I don’t know where the next hidden Eden will be. And I hate, hate, HATE that this massive airport is being built next to literally markets made of shacks and a level of economic struggle not really found in the states. And I literally am the problem contributing to it.
Deep breath.
It was said to be a 5 hour drive. It was about 6.5 hrs. When we got in the van, it was empty. Just us and the driver. 10 minutes later, he pulled over and picked people up. There were literally 20 people in a van made for about seven. The roads were bumpy, like driving over a piece of paper that had been crumpled up and unfolded.
Both Lotti and I were/are exhausted. We had each gotten up at about 7am and had not had much sleep. We planned to sleep on the van, but with the rough ride and packed car, that didn’t happen. We were promised air conditioning in the van, and boy, did we get it. I’d say it was the perfect temperature for a penguin.
The night crept upon us quickly. By 7pm, it was dark out. We’d stop every 15 minutes or so to let someone off or to pick someone up, and all the lights in the van would turn on as the door opened, shining brightly and waking up every poor soul who had tried to catch some zzz’s. We stopped at a local restaurant on the side of a road in God knows what town. I got the chicken and rice. She got veggies and rice. They weren’t great. Enough said.
We couldn’t sleep. Mentally and emotionally, we were exhausted. Physically, we were pinned up against the side of the van with our heads banging against the windows as we crossed 3 hours of classic Philippines roads.
We finally arrived at our destination in El Nido, 15 hours later from when we left our respective apartments. We checked in, filled out papers, I started writing, she took a shower. We met the rest of our mixed-dorm bunk mates. More connections were quickly formed as we discussed where we’ve been, and where’s next. I’m supposed to talk to Lauren tomorrow about Hong Kong and Tokyo.
My persona can change depending on who I’m with- that I’ve known for a while. But my inevitable desire to communicate and share is what I’m realizing more and more each day. It’s common amongst backpackers. Maybe my cynicism towards this is due to the Seattle Freeze, or maybe Americans just are more standoffish. But I can connect with hundreds of different people in the travel situations I get myself into. I don’t feel that way in an everyday life. Is that unhealthy? I hope not.
I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted, yet thriving and flourishing with thoughts and pieces I want to write about. El Nido will be hard for me, because this is the place I’ve chosen to actually stay at a hostel at and spend every waking (and sleeping) hour surrounded by strangers, each with a story I long to hear. Tomorrow, we will likely hop on a catamaran and tour islands, dive the reef, and visit hidden beaches accessible only by swimming through holes in crags underneath the sea. After that, we’ll eat, drink, and share life together.
Will I have time to think? Probably not. Will I have time to write? Probably not. Do I wish I did? Yes. Do I plan on cutting out those social moments to write? Definitely not.
When I write, I realize my internal voice in my head plays like the recording of an audiobook. Other times (i.e. not writing), it doesn’t.
Thank God for wifi*.
*only available from 6pm-2am in El Nido…