Day 26: Falling Behind

Ug, I feel like a big lump on a log.... This week, due to Christmas (I know - excuses, excuses), has not been a very productive one. Actually I think I am going backwards. Last week I was supposed to run 15 miles, but I only ran 10. I skipped the long Sunday run, which was 5 miles, and instead opted to gorge myself with cookies and pie.

WEEK FOUR MIDWEEK SPECIAL: 4 days down. 3 to go.

Days so far this week: 4
Miles I have to run this week:18
Miles run so far: 0

So I guess that is 6 miles a day for the next three days! Whew! Does skiing count? I went skiing Wednesday. I think that was about 4 miles total. I got a new pedometer for Christmas which tells me how far and how fast I am going so tonight should be an interesting one at the gym. I will finally get to see if the track at the gym is really as big as they say it is (supposedly 11 laps is a mile, but it seems to last for hours!)

Damn those cookies!

Sometimes You Just Can't Win!

So I thought it was bad enough that I had to deal with a huge blizzard on my way home for Christmas, but there was no thought in my mind that it would happen twice. Yes, twice. Yesterday I had a flight back to New Orleans from Reno via...oh yeah, Denver again! Where else? Upon calling United to reroute, I was told my only other option was another flight through Denver (and how exactly does that solve my problem?) or a flight two days later...oh - also through Denver. Hm. Not a lot of promise there, huh? So I had to improvise and take American (they don't even have a movie for a 3 hour flight!) via Dallas instead. One good thing is that it got me back to my hotel in time to watch this week's episode of Men in Trees, which I had not seen before. Oh, the small pleasures in life!

Stranded!

I am still here. Stuck in New Orleans. Not that I don't like this place, but I really had my heart set on going home today, hanging out with my buddy Kara and seeing the roommates at the house. I had a flight out for today at 2 pm. But I don't anymore. This is a classic example of "do as I say, not as I do". I told Lea when she was buying her ticket - DO NOT go through Denver!!! She listened to me. But somehow, when I went to buy my ticket, I was caught up in the greed of finding the shortest flight, the flight that arrived just when someone could pick me up and the flight that allowed me to get some work done in the morning and see my friends in the evening. And guess where that flight connected at? DENVER! I have been banging my head against the wall all morning just thinking about what a hypocrite (and see where it got me!) I am.

Actually, I have not been banging my head against the wall all morning. I have been running around like a mad woman. After sitting on the phone yesterday for hours wading through the monotonous automated voice that is the United "help" line and finally getting put through to an agent only to get the busy signal (about 487 times!), I finally decided that the way to figure this out was to go to the airport. So this morning at 4:45, I went to the airport and stood in the premier line (which is supposedly faster) behind (of course!) a lady with about 400 large bags which all had to be weighed and checked (hello santa!), a relative in a wheelchair and then, lo and behold, about 4 other relatives who cut in line with her at the last minute.

I finally got to the counter only to be told by the lady that there are "abosolutely NO flights today or tomorrow". Tears sprung from my eyes for a second before I swallowed them back and asked her again about getting to San Francisco. "Oh...San Francisco. I thought you meant Denver." WHEW! But still, there were no flights even to San Francisco unless I wanted to wait standby all day. Luckily, after about 20 minutes of searching, she found a flight early tomorrow morning (thank you lady!), and after being ticketed, I turned around and walked out. As I was walking out, a lady in the premier line cheered. I thought that it was pretty weird that she cheered, until I realized I didn't care why she was cheering. I felt like cheering too... I am going home! Come hell or high water or a crazy winter blizzard... I am going home!

Day 15: This is Not a Sunday Stroll Ladies!

Sunday is the day of the long run and we usually do it at Audubon Park, which is nice becuase there is a running trail. The trail is a two mile loop or you can extend it and go up and around to the river and it is about a four mile loop. It is really a beautiful run and it makes me wish that it wasn't winter; it gets so dark so early here now; I have to run inside on the weekdays, but every week we look forward to Sunday for our outside run.

After we run, we go to the grocery store and buy massive quantities of food. Then we go to my house and gorge ourselves silly until we can't move anymore and watch silly movies (last night we subjected Noel to "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days") with our top button of our pants unbuttoned and our bellies hanging low.

Our gym teacher, Ms. Bissell, used to yell at us in class if we ran too slow. She would say, "Come on ladies; pick up the pace! Swing those arms! Move it, move it! This is not a Sunday stroll ladies!" Yesterday my target number was four. Four miles I had to run. I wasn't sure if I could but thanks to Noel, who runs a very consistent pace, and to Ms. Bissell, whose voice was in my head the whole time, I actually ran five miles instead of four.

WEEK TWO RECAP:

Target Miles: 12
Actual Miles Run: 13
Laps Run at The Gym: 88
Blisters: 2
Ice Creams Eaten to Maintain Energy Levels: 5

Day 4: What was I thinking?

Well I have only been training for half a week and already my knees are killing me! Is this going to get any better, or will it only get worse?

I began training week by buying new running shoes. The ones I have now are not only old and ripped and dirty, but they have been through a lot - trekking in New Zealand, Thailand and the Philippines as well as miles of spinning and a tiny bit of running. Unfortunately, I forgot that new shoes are not as comfortable as the old, smashed, worn in old shoes. So last night as I ran my feet felt like little sausages trapped in their casing.

The second thing I have done (in an attempt to maintain my sanity) is to enlist the help of my friend S, who lives in Seattle. We are going to do "long distance" training together (ie. moral support and someone to nag me if I fall behind) I might have an advantage over him though, as he is running in the snow (oh and did I forget to mention he is a way better runner than me anyway?)

The training calendar says to run at an "easy conversational" pace. Ha! Whatever that means, I am sure I have not mastered that yet. To me that means panting and sweating and red-faced running segueing into walking.

Training progress so far....

WEEK ONE: 4 days complete. 3 to go.

Miles run: 5
Miles walked: 4
Hours in spin class: 2
Degrees in New Orleans today: 28
How old I feel based on knee pain: 78
Dollars spent on tiger balm: 5.67
Tiger Balm applied: half a canister (approx value: 2.83)

Approximate Training Schedule

Half Marathon Training Schedule

The Mardi Gras Marathon is on February 25th 2007, and I have decided to participate by making an attempt to run the half marathon (13.1 miles) that day. I started my training this week and it goes for 12 weeks..... I really do not enjoy running very much but I do enjoy a challenge, so we will see where this one takes me. I figure if I get burned out after week 5 or 6 (the most I have ever run before is 6 miles), I can opt out of the half and go for the 10 K (there are full marathon, half marathon and 10 K options) and I will still get the free t-shirt.

To see my (un?)successful progress and to hear my whining, you can click on the link on the left or go to: http://www.cankyriarun.blogspot.com

What exactly is a "Tchoupitoulas" anyway?

One of the things in New Orleans that is really strange to me is the spelling and pronounciation of Street, City and Parish (county) names. There are several names that I could never figure out how to pronounce if not for a little help from some of the locals. I decided to find out a little bit more about what these words meant. Below are a few examples.

Plaquemine (Plack a min), a parish and bayou. From the Mobilian (Indian) word "piakimin", which means persimmon.Tchoupitoulas (chop a too les), a street in New Orleans and a French settlement outside of N.O. at one time. The name of an extinct Indian tribe. Also means "River People".

Calliope Street (Cal' i ope) (The "ope" said like nope--no "e" heard) Don't ask where "Cal-lie-o-pea" is, nobody will understand what street you're looking for!
Carondelet St.- not pronounced like the French (cor on do ley), but instead the T is pronounced.
Burgundy St.- seems easy right? We all know how to pronounce this. But wait - there is a stress on the UN, so intead of "burg andy" it is "burg UN dy". I wonder how they say caramel.Marigny (mar in knee)- Got its name from Frenchman, Bernard Marigny who introduced craps to the US. Faubourg Marigny is considered the first suburb of New Orleans. The Marigny neighborhood is a maze of angular streets that form triangles, pentagons and squares. Numbers jump their sequence mid-block and so do street names. Spanish, French Creoles, Italians, Germans, Irish and many free persons of color were among the first ethnic inhabitants to live in this section of the city.
Pontchatrain- the lake was named after Louis Phélypeaux, comte de Pontchartrain, the French Minister of the Marine, chancellor of France and minister of finance during the reign of France's "Sun King," Louis XIV, for whom Louisiana is named.

For more info, go to: http://www.experienceneworleans.com/glossary.html or http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_orleans

Slim's take two...

Get this! The exact same day I wrote the last blog, I went to Slim Goodies and.... They have printed menus! And their prices have gone up! I am so disappointed....

The Story of Slim Goodies

We go there every Sunday without fail. We are greeted at the door by the owner, who's name is Kappa. The waitresses wear striped tights like the Wicked Witch of the West. The seats are red pleather and the menus are handwritten. You can get breakfast at any time for under 7 dollars. You can bring your own champagne and make mimosas. It feels like home.

The first time I went to Slim Goodies was about one month after Katrina. We sat in the backyard; the fence was knocked over, the trees were all broken and torn and limbs were strewn across the yard. We did not get a menu; instead the waitress, who's name was Katie, came up to us and asked, "vegetarian or not?" We told her which we were and she brought us out an array of goodies served on paper plates. I think I had pancakes and a biscuit. And coffee, also served in a paper cup. And water served in a bottle. I think my meal cost about 3.50 or 4 dollars.

Slim's has come a long way since the first time I ate there. They do have a menu now, but it is handwritten and you can order things such as "the little goat" (one of my favorites), "the guatemalan", "the jewish coon ass" (dont get me wrong, this is a really good sandwich - 2 potato latkes topped w/fresh spinach, 2 eggs, crawfish etouffee, biscuit) and the "fancy pants" (Chris' favorite and the first time he ordered it, I thought he was calling the waitress names). They have real plates and cups. Katie is gone; she went to Denver.

It may have changed a lot, but it is still the best breakfast place in New Orleans and maybe even anywhere. So every Sunday, we buy a bottle of champagne, round up the troops and head to Slim's for breakfast/brunch/lunch, where we gorge ourselves on fancy pants and joe.

Slideshow.....

Third Time's a Charm?

Yes, I'm back. Back again....

I have returned again to Louisiana (for the third time in a year) to continue working with the Education systems that were affected by Hurricane Katrina. I am working in the same office (New Orleans) as I was before, doing the same job with the same clients. However, the dynamic of the group in the office has changed very much. When I was here before, there was a very large group (about 20-30 at any given time) that would all hang out together on the weekends, on the weekdays and at lunch. I arrived back expecting the same thing, even though I knew that everyone had gone home months ago.

Well, it is not the same. There are only about 3 of the original group of 30 left (including me). Having said that, the three that are left have had a great time, but it is very strange not having the rest here...it always feels like we are missing someone. We always go to breakfast on Sunday morning at Slim Goodies (we do this religiously every Sunday, rain or shine). It used to work like this: whoever woke up first and had a rumbly tummy would call everyone else and set the time to all meet. This used to take a long time, so long in fact that sometimes we had to split it with another, like a phone tree. Also, so long that sometimes breakfast became lunch. Last Sunday it went something like this: I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Lea. She said, "ready for breakfast?" I said, "yes". And then we went to breakfast. It was like culture shock. I was picking up my phone and scrolling through all the names looking for someone to call.

Yesterday, another member of the extended group came back. In the next few weeks, a few more are expected back. And we are making new friends and adding to the group every day. Soon, we will be whole again. Soon, going to Slim Goodies will once again be an all day affair, if only becuase of the dozens of phone calls one has to make each Sunday morning.

Full House: How I became the fourth roommate

Somehow I ended up back in my old flat in San Francisco. I even got my old bed back, but only becuase my brother, who has been sleeping in my bed for the last two years, is out of town at the moment. So I have taken his place, back in my old flat, in my old bed, doing the same thing that I did then...minus the job and school of course. But now instead of one roommate, I have three! 

There is Pam, the responsible one (aka "mom" or "the one that cleans the toilets"), who works at a restaurant down on Church St. Then there is the "old-new guy", Collin. This kid used to come up to my parent's summer resort with his family every summer for about 15 years. I have not seen him in about 10 years though, so when my brother told me he was moving in, it was a nice surprise. Collin and I have spent a lot of time together in the last couple of weeks. 

Then we have my crazy brother, who is only there about one day a week and on that day we have an all day "thank goodness he is home and we are all together" party. All in all, it has been good times.

My Life Goes Downhill

I lifted up my leg, swung it around and over the seat, closed my eyes and started to pedal, all the while praying to god that I would not fall....

The last time I rode a bike in San Francisco was with my friend Omar, who knew all the ups and downs, where to go and how to get there. And that time that I rode with him ended in disaster. Just as we were pulling back into the street where he lived, I slipped on the MUNI (train) track and fell down right in the middle of the street. I narrowly missed being hit by a car and escaped with only a scraped up face and a bruised shoulder.

So this time I gingerly got back on the bike and readied myself (mentally and physically) to go on a bike ride around the city once again. And this time it was by myself. I don't even know how to ride a bike in the city, really. I mean, what am I? Am I a car? Am I a pedestrian? No, I am a bike. But what are the rules for a bike? Can you google them? Well, I did not google them; I just hopped on the bike and got in the right lane of traffic and kept my fingers crossed that nothing too large would ram into me as I was frantically pedalling down the (seemingly) busiest street in town. When I had to turn left, I just got in front of all the fast moving cars and made them wait while I got across the 6 lane, 4 way stop.

I need a blinker! I need a horn! I need a gas pedal. San Francisco is not well known for having many flat areas. Nope, San Francisco is mainly made up of hills, which is cool when you are standing at the top of one, looking down at the beautiful view. But when you are trying to GET to the top so you can look at the beautiful view, it is a different story all together. Why does a bike have so many gears? And which gear makes it so I don't actually have to pedal up the hill? Isn't there one where you can just set it and the bike coasts up the hill on its own? If there is, I have not found it. I put the bike in the lowest gear possible and pedaled so fast I thought my legs were going to spin off my body and onto the street below and STILL it took me (what seemed like) 30 minutes to get to the top of the hill.

So then wouldn't it make sense that if you are at the top, there is nowhere to go but down? Sure, if you were anywhere else but "the hilly city by the bay". Somehow, however, here in San Francisco it seems to be uphill both ways.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jog

Whew, made it back in one piece... First thing I did was stop by Ed's (the local coffee shop) and get a nice steaming hot Mocha. I haven't had a good one of those in a while! All coffee in SE Asia is Nescafe...which you do get used to after a while, but bleck, I would much rather have a nice espresso. So I stopped at Ed's, said a quick hello, slurped down my mocha in about 4 seconds (S, you would be proud) and got down to business - Laundry.

When you are travelling, and especially when you are travelling light, you go by the "underwear theory". This is that...until you don't have any clean underwear left, there is no need to do laundry. So, if you take 14 pairs of undies, you only need to do laundry...every two weeks. That having been said, I REALLY needed to do laundry by the time I got home. I had worn my bathing suit as much as possilbe just to save those few extra pairs of undies... I know, some people my think that gross. S is one of them; he was begging me to find a laundry place about every two days... What he doesn't understand is that usually the people at the laundry place do not have dryers. So you have to wait at least 24 hours for the laundry to be cleaned and dried. If it is even dry when you get it back, you are lucky. If it smells good, you are even luckier. After getting mine back a couple of times still smelling like not so dry, semi moist, little bit dirty laundry, I say 'forget it, I would rather go without'. So I'm sticking with the "underwear theory".

I finished my laundry, went and got a huge burrito (another thing I always miss when I am away from home) and promptly fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, I figured that was the last of my jet lag, but alas, that was not the case. I slept 13 hours last night....from 11:30 pm to 1 pm. I am wondering what time I will finally be able to fall asleep tonight...(or tomorrow perhaps?)

Next Stop: Tomorrow I am off to Lake Oroville for some fun in the sun and waterskiing with the Keesling family... I have not been waterskiing since I was about 10 so am looking forward to showing off my (lack of) skills. After that, I have decided to go up to my parents house, hang out with them and finally...fix my car (her name is Sadie - she has been dented for a few years, but since I have been living in the city and travelling, I have not really needed a car so I have let her sit). I will be doing it myself, so it will be a good learning experience (maybe teach me some patience...haha, yeah right) for me and then she will also be ready to roll for the next time I need her....

What Day Is It Anyway?

Today is the longest day ever... I am leaving Manila at 11:45 p.m. on the 20th. Next I have about a million (well, two) layovers and about a million (well maybe more like 27) hours before finally arriving in San Francisco on the 21st at 9 a.m. Using the points program for United Air has been nice on the pocketbook, but man, do they make you work the clock! There were no direct flights from Manila to anywhere I wanted to go and of course no layover is shorter than, um, 5 hours.

Ah well, I am headed home!

600 Meters Under The Sea: Palau Sipidan

After leaving the Kinabatangan, we boarded the bus, went back down the bumpy road, and headed to Semporna, which is the gateway to Palau Sipidan (Sipidan Island) where we would be doing most of our diving. I thought Semporna would be a biggish city, with all the amenities of home, but S and I walked from one end to the other in about 20 minutes, then looked at eachother and said "what now?"

We found hawker stalls - our favorite. This is my idea of Malaysian fast food. You go into an area that resembles the food area at your local county fair. There are tons of different things to choose from, all being made on the spot, right in front of your eyes. You point at what appears to not have chicken in it (and cross your fingers) and 2 minutes later you are sitting down having a wonderful meal. I have gotten lucky; nothing has had hidden meat (similar to hidden charges?) in it; somehow with all of my grunting and pointing I got my point across.

We spent the next three days diving in Palau Sipidan...this is a wall dive, which means that the coral reef at the shallowest is about 5 Meters down, but then falls off into a wall formation down into the deep sea. At the deepest, this wall goes down to 600 Meters!! That is about 1800 feet! You wouldn't want to accidently get stuck going down there! We saw so many cool things: sharks, tons of turtles, lots of HUGE fish (that's a huge fish!), schools of hundreds of fish, many different types of corals, anenomes, sea cucumbers, starfish, shrimps, eels, rays, triggerfish galore (watch out, they bite!) and even some weird animals I could not identify (I saw one fish(?) that looked like a lump of mud. It hopped along the ground and the mouth was on the top! what kind of animal was it...I don't know!) We stayed on an old oil rig which had been coverted to a dive rig. You could go diving any time you wanted...you just took a lift down, then jumped off the rig and took off. We also just jumped off the rig anyway for fun (it is about 25-30 feet off the water).

We left Sipidan and headed to Tawau, where we would catch a plane to go back to Kota Kinabalu...

Taming the Kinabatangan

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my! Welcome to the Jungle! Actually, there are no lions, tigers or bears, but...there are: wild boars, elephants, snakes, monkeys, orangutangs, crocodiles and birds (oh my!).

After leaving Mt. Kinabalu, S and I took a detour on our way to Sipidan Island, where we are planning to go diving. We stopped at the Kinabatangan River, which is nicknamed "the Amazon of Malaysia". Well, I have never been to the Amazon, but this was pretty cool.

The first day we arrived, we got settled and then jumped right into a boat to explore the river. We saw tons of Probiscus Monkeys, which have huge fat bellies and big bulbous noses (hence the name). They can leap...(small buildings with a single bound) from tree to tree, clearing about 20 feet or so easily. We also saw a couple other types of monkeys, but the money shot was the elephants. There must have been easily 20-30 elephants all together eating, playing and swimming. We sat and watched them for a long time before it finally got dark and we went home for dinner. The place where we stayed was very secluded; to get to it you had to take a boat from the "town"; there were only 4 other people staying there when we were there.

The next day we were up early for another river boat ride... we saw 2 orangutangs! That night we saw about 4 crocodiles, which apparently you are not supposed to be afraid of, because they only eat small fish and...it takes them a month to digest that! Hmph.

We left the Kinabatangan with a newfound respect for the animals. Now I think that I not only want to take home a monkey, but also a Pygmie Elephant. Do you think it will fit in my suitcase? I may be a little over the weight limit!

Next stop: Sipidan Island for some very fine diving....

Hell on Knees: The Story of Mt. Kinabalu

I vaguely remember climbing Mt. Whitney. At 17, my attitude was - whatever my Dad wanted me to do, I did not want to do it. I thought that it was too hot, too cold, I was too tired, the pack was too heavy, the hill was too high, the tent was a pain to set up and I had to sleep with my brother who kicked, snored and talked in his sleep. And above all, it was HARD. Then I got to the top, took a long look around and realized that it was all worth it. The pain of the journey was worth the sense of achievement at the end. This is what spurned me to climb another mountain (ford every stream...).

Mt. Kinabalu, located in Malaysian Borneo (Sabah) is the tallest mountain in SE Asia, standing at 4095 meters tall, which is about 13,500 feet. Mt Whitney is about 14,500 feet tall. So it should be about the same right? No. Somebody forgot to tell these people about the beauty of switchbacks. So instead of a winding trail up to the top, there is a path STRAIGHT UP. I looked at the map, saw we were going to be hiking about 6 km the first day and thought, 'eh, no problem'. Riiiiight.. I was so tired by the end of those "easy" 6 km. The second day we got up at 2 am (I know, earlier than some of you guys go to bed!) and hiked up another 3 km to get to the peak in time for the sunrise. It was well worth it, but the temperature at the top was about 4 degrees C, which is about 38 degrees F. It was bloody cold! And we got up there faster than we thought we would (I didn't know I was in such great shape! ha!) so ended up having to wait for about an hour for the sunrise.

After the sun rose and we took the obligatory photos, we hiked back down to the midpoint, had breakfast and then hiked back down to the bottom again. I always thought hiking downhill was so much easier than hiking up... It is easier on my heart and lungs, but surely not on my knees! Today (the day after), I can barely walk on a level surface and forget about stairs (and of course our hotel is up a long flight of them!)

So once again, the climb was hard, but "the end justifies the means". The view from the top was spectacular and I have now hiked my second tallest mountain ever! And my dad didn't even make me do it!

Miles Hiked: well, 18 km, so about 11 miles
KM gained in Height: from 1500 to 4100, so about 2600...so, about 9500 feet...
Body parts totally wasted: Legs, gone. Knees, can tell when it is going to rain. Abs for some reason, sore. Feet, surprisingly good.
Snacks eaten in two days: about one Ton

Next up: Pulau Sipidan, one of the number one dive sites in the world!

Palawan: Taking the Long Way Back

Next stop: the island of Palawan, home of the underground river and many cool dive sites... We are having a bit of trouble with the flight situations.. Many flights are only once a day and from some islands, you can only fly to Manila. So to get to Palawan, we had to take a ferry from Bohol to Cebu, take a flight from Cebu to Manila, stay the night in Manila, then take a flight to Puerto Princessa, Palawan (only once a day). The other thing is that our flight which was supposed to leave at 7 pm, did not leave until 11:30 pm. WHEW! So we finally arrived in Puerto Princessa and took a jeepney (oh this is another story all together) to a tiny town called Sabang (population about 200? basically: forget internet, good luck finding a cash exchange and most of the town is related).

Upon jumping off the top (yes mom, the roof) of the Jeepney at Sabang, we were met by a one man welcoming committee named Frances. He was very helpful. We had planned on meeting Doyle and Rachel at a particular hostel, as they had to run some errands in Puerto Princessa before coming to meet with us in Sabang. Frances showed us where to go, invited us to dinner, introduced us to his friends and invited us to join him the next day for karaokee. When Doyle and Rachel arrived, he also showed them where to find us. We had lunch at his friend Helen's restarurant and then dinner at the place he worked, who opened back up the restaurant, fired up the grill and cooked us a marvelous piece of fresh fish along with the best garlic rice I have had so far.

The next day, Doyle woke us up bright and early for a...cock fight. Our cock lost (Doyle bet 100 pesos - big spender) but it was an interesting sight to see. Next, Frances took us to the underground river, on a hike through the jungle where we saw monkeys and monitor lizards and then taught us how to climb a coconut tree (after which we all climbed easily to the top - haha). That night, we had a very nice dinner at Helen's again (oh by the way, she has a tiny pet monkey - soooo cute!) and then went out to the (one) bar and sang to our little heart's content. I think Rachel won the karaoke contest. The machine actually rates you (not sure what it rates you on!) and you get a score after you are done singing... It was a riot! Frances and I sang Hotel California and got a 95! Doyle had one beer, was drunk (haha) and sang Sweet Caroline. Actually I think Doyle has the best voice, even though he is too shy (what! Doyle? Shy?) to use it. We went home shortly before the power went off (they are on generators and only have power from 6pm -1 am (or 10 in some places, but not the karaoke bar!)

The following day we took a boat from Sabang to El Nido, where we went diving, went island hopping, ate lots of cheese omelets and rice, drank lots of San Miguel and did not do karaoke even though I thought that it was time S took the mike and showed us what he was really made of. Here we learned of the death of S Irwin, ironically just the day before we were about to go diving, and here I was hoping we would see some sting rays...

From El Nido, we flew back to Manila on a... 12 person plane, with a dirt/rock runway and rainy weather. I swear the pilot was sticking his head out the window of the plane to try and see where the airport was... But we (somehow) made it safely to Manila, alive and in one piece. We had dinner all together and then Rachel and Doyle went one way and S and I went the other. The plan is that Rachel and Doyle are still going to spend up until the 16th in the Philippines, while S and I are on our way to the island of Borneo, to Sabah, Malaysia...

So... Next Stop: Borneo! Here we go...