I have come to the conclusion that Filipinos are deeply religious because only a deity may protect them and their lungs against the traffic and resulting smog.
It took quite some time to get from Dumaguete to Iloilo: tricycle to the bus station, a six-hour bus ride to Bacolod, a ten-minute tricycle ride to the wharf, a seventy-five minute "fastcraft" ride to Iloilo, and a ten minute ride back to another pension. Determining when to get off the bus ride has always proved to be interesting, seeing that I really have no idea when to do so until there is a moment where it seems to be a good idea to get off then, and it's always worked out. Of course the tricycle drivers are trying to charge extortionate rates for rides that further threaten ny well-being. After checking into the pension, I literally ran onto a jeepney to get to the shopping mall that I'm at now: you should have seen the look on people's faces as their vehicle is moving along and suddenly this tall'n'gangly foreigner just jumps right on board. Well, if he can manage like us, we may as well offer him a seat...
It's not over, though: tomorrow it's another day of travelling until Boracay, land of the most beautiful sand beach I have ever seen. I'm really looking forward to spending an extended period of time further regaining my color. But even though those hours of travel could be monotonous, after travelling for so long you start to kind of enjoy the time in which you can't really do much besides listen or watch your iPod, read a book, or nap.
Weather better be nice the day after tomorrow or someone is going to be in a pissy mood...
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