Philippines: Pedaling between Palms and the Pacific

On the Philippines people send a prayer to heaven before setting off on a crossing – a remnant of 300 years of Spanish rule. The Philippines is the largest Catholic country in Asia.

On Camotes, the "sweet-potato islands", we hop on our mountain bikes. Cycling in the Philippines: this is still an unusual combination. There is much to recommend it: during the German winter it is the dry season here with a pleasant 28°C. The roads are excellent, the climbs moderate; when it comes to food, influences from Thailand and Indonesia are combined with local trump cards – above all sweet, juicy pineapple, mango and papaya. And almost always the Pacific is close by.

"Hello!", "¿Cómo estás?" and "What's up, bro": We are greeted in multiple languages as we race through a village. Children rush toward us, teenagers wave to us. In our cycling kit and helmets we look like aliens. Life on the Camotes unfolds on and at the edge of the roads: here mopeds rattle, here the brightly colored "jeepneys" carry people to the neighboring village for little money. Those who can set up a shop, or even just a stall facing the street, and try to sell something. The dogs, accustomed to the traffic noise, are startled when we cycle past them, yet remain surprisingly calm. No sign of aggression like in some other countries.

Only on the considerably larger island of Bohol do the roads sometimes get a bit tight. That's due to the more than 1,000 conical "Chocolate Hills": grass-covered karst mounds that turn chocolate-brown in summer and attract tourists year-round. Here you can also find the fist-sized tarsiers, whose face seems to consist mostly of eyes. Even so, we make good time on Bohol! Our agile guide hands out bananas and water, then urges us on with shouts of "Ghee!" — which means "Let's go!". The surroundings rush past me, through me: painstakingly tended rice fields as well as meter-high coconut palms, mangroves and mango trees. I can hardly get enough of the abundance being laid out before me. And I barely notice that we're covering 80 kilometers or more a day.

On the "mystical island" of Siquijor, you can hardly feel any of the hustle and bustle of the cities. The atmosphere on the comparatively small island is relaxed. Perhaps the witches and wizards said to live here are responsible. Although the ceremony of a "healer" in his shabby hut didn't really convince me: he blows into a glass of water, which he swings around me. Then he pours out the liquid — and with it supposedly my "negative energy." Well.

To do so, we cycle around the island by bicycle — 75 kilometers along the Pacific.
The combination of white sandy beaches, towering palms and the play of the ocean's waves is hard to beat.
After half a day of taking photos like crazy, I'm inclined to believe in the 'Diwatas' and 'Encantos' that so many people on Siquijor talk about.
While the fairy-like 'Diwatas' live in the treetops, the 'Encantos' are guardian spirits of the sea.
Even today, Filipino fishermen throw fruits into the water after a good catch to thank them.
The belief in a living nature is understandable in a country that sits directly on the Pacific Ring of Fire — with volcanoes, earthquakes and typhoons as accompanying phenomena.

On the elongated island of Cebu traffic increases until, within the eponymous capital, it reaches apocalyptic proportions. Across the entire Philippines there is barely a single railway line; otherwise people travel by car or moped according to rules that are hard for Europeans to comprehend. When they are not in a vehicle, Filipinos are generally polite and reserved, which makes the region a pleasant destination for travelers. Yet behind the friendly façade a struggle often takes place: many work under conditions that would make a German trade unionist tear his hair out, holding down two or three jobs in parallel. Others earn their living as OFWs – "Overseas Filipino Workers" – especially in the engine rooms of cruise ships. Of the eight million overseas Filipinos almost half live in the United States, with which close relations have been maintained since the end of World War II.

550 kilometers and 6,000 meters of elevation lie behind us as we have dinner in Cebu City. Time has sped by far too quickly. Each island we rode presented itself to us differently. It’s less the tourist "hotspots" that impressed us so much. They are often overcrowded and yet only moderately spectacular. What made our trip, by contrast: the roads and paths set into overflowing vegetation, under which bushes and trees bend. The roar and gurgle of the Pacific never far away. And again and again the people who greet us, smile at us, talk to us and are visibly glad that we are here. All the lush, bustling and effervescent life on these tropical islands, which with each day jumped onto us a little more. Well, and that’s something!

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