Another day spent cowering under shady areas of the beach reading a book and day-dreaming. The occasional trip to the shop to buy more suncream, and eating ice-cream provided the only change of pace. Bored, I started drinking the local firewater, a rum served with a dash of coke over ice. The drone of boats whisking in and out of the bay, the laughter of local children playing in the sea, the sound of ice-cubes being dropped into glasses with delicious soft cracking sounds the only soundtrack. A lovely day.
In the evening I ate pizza again, then sat down at a bar and drank a few beers. I got talking to a young American who was on holiday from Iraq, where he had been unfortunately stationed with some security teams working closely with the military. He told some interesting stories, and I was suprised when he mentioned that the media actually downplays the daily violence. Iraq, he claimed, is a complete mess. We drank together for a while before an old American from Texas, dressed in an offensively loud Hawaian shirt joined us. He lives in Angeles City, the notorious sex capital of the Philippines. “Just have to walk out my door and pop across the goddam street to see sum pretty little things” he drawled. “So, what do you do there?” I enquired. “I’m retired, boy. I ain’t doin a goddam thing others than chasin women” he replied, with no humour. So myself, the security guy working in Iraq, and the professional sex tourist had a few more drinks and went to play pool in another bar. Travelling alone is great in that you really never know what’s going to happen, who you’ll meet etc. It was an unexpectedly interesting Sunday evening. The next day I returned to Singapore, feeling fully refreshed.