Marty Magic Travel Blog: To Market to Market to buy a Fat Pig

Wednesday, January 21st - Dumagete to Cebu to Manilla and home to the U.S.A.

Today will prove to be long and torturous, but it starts out with promise for all but the livestock and the fish. We have arranged for a driver to take us to the Wednesday market, nearly an hour outside Dumagete. Our driver picks us up on time and we arrive at the market early. Our flight to Manilla leaves early afternoon and Joe instructs our driver when and where to wait for us and writes down his cell phone number. Our time is short at the market and we start down the single lane road lined with tiny stalls selling fruits, vegetables and in sundries. I love markets and even the stalls selling coils of yellow rope are interesting.

Yellow Rope for Sale

Elder Musician at Market

Women Selling Vegetables

Market Day

Bull to Market

Tools for Sale

Fish and Squid

Roasted Pig

There are open air restaurants, under permanent shaded roofs at the far end of the market, They are crowded with patrons sitting at long tables and Art wants to try some fresh fish. These restaurants are not prepared to accommodate tourists and we are unable to read the menu or understand the protocol. The service is terrible and all is confusing. John, Joe and I pass on the food in frustration but Art chooses to order a bowl of raw fish Ceviche and slurps it down with dissatisfaction.

Ceviche

We wander into the livestock stockade where PETA would have a field day. The air is ripe and pungent with manuer and cattle are being prodded and pulled by their rings noses, by impatient men. Pigs are being shoved squealing into burlap bags and sheep and goats are crammed into tiny motorized carts for transport. It is fascinating and I try not to judge but am glad that I am making an effort to be vegetarian.

Pig to Market

Pigs to Market

Pig in a Sack

Pig to Market

At the appointed time, we are waiting at the crossroads of the main road and Joe calls our diver. He doesn’t pick up and when he finally does, it seems that he has gone back into Dumagete to pick up another fare. Time is ticking dangerously by and we are likely to miss our flight so we hire a trike to take us back to Dumagete. Trikes cannot travel at the same rate as cars; they are dangerous and uncomfortable but it seems that we have no other options so the four of us climb onboard one of the heartier looking trikes and bump and jostle the hour back into the city. We grab our luggage at the hotel and take a taxi to the airport, just a few minutes the other side of town. My blood pressure is rising but we arrive in time for our flight only to discover that the flight is delayed 2 hours.

An hour later, an announcement informs us that the flight is delayed yet another hour. The plane is delayed time and time again and we are now in danger of missing our flight from Manilla to S.F.O. The Dumagete airport terminal is dismal with minimal amenities and we are all hungry and tired. There are no restaurants, only a few food kiosks with sad sandwiches left too long in the open. John, Art and I play it safe and buy cups of noodle, nuts and drinks and I pass the time writing this blog. We pay little attention when Joe eventually wanders off in search of food. I glance over and see him eating a sandwich and hope that Joe doesn’t get sick this time around.