Saturday Afternoon
Our tricycle driver, who turned out to be a very pleasant fellow, drove us through the Philippine countryside and back to the Alona Beach area and up the dirt road to the Bee Farm. I jumped out of the little cab affixed to the motorbike and ran in to see if I could get a room for Fletch and myself. We had just ditched our plans of staying in a dodgy shack in the middle of the woods, something straight out of a horror film, and opted to stay someplace nicer and closer to the airport for our last night.
While I was securing a room, the tricycle driver was parking so that he could have a look around. He told us happily that he had been here on a field trip once in high school and had not been back since. A lot had changed.
We said goodbye to the man with the tourist sized tricycle and found ourselves in the Calape room. Rustic hardwood floors greeted our feet and an oversized bed welcomed us like a big hug. After not even 24 hours of pretending to rough it out in the woods (though it felt like much longer), having a comfortable place to lie down was nothing short of amazing. The room was open and airy and decorated sort of farm chic. The bathroom was massive and drew us in with the promise of a hot shower.
Before too much of the daylight was gone, Fletch and I changed into our swim suits and made our way through the restaurant area and down the round, wooden staircase to the little dive shop area and jumped into the water to go for a snorkel. The salt water had never felt so cleansing and refreshing after our debacle in the jungle. The area was mostly sand and grass, which didn’t make for the best visibility, but if you looked closely, the grassy areas turned out to be the hiding places of some pretty cool little critters. I spotted a pipe fish, three razor fish, and a hermit crab before the chilly water sent me shivering back to the room for a hot shower in our luxurious bathroom, complete with soaps made at the farm.
When Fletch and I were all cleaned up, we headed back to the large restaurant area for dinner. It seemed rather empty and quiet, and so I wasn’t sure why there were three different dining areas, all with a generous amount of seating.
We were served complimentary appetizers that we were happily familiar with by now. Homemade squash bread with mango and herb spreads to choose from; both were equally delicious.
We went back to the room to grab Fletch’s wallet so that we could go checkout, seeing as it would be too early to do so when we left in the morning, and when we walked back outside, it was as though his ears had been burning, because there was George, sprawled across the path.
George was very happy to see us, and we sat and petted him as he walked back and forth the short distance between the two of us. Eventually his head was rubbed to his hearts content, because he strutted off and decided that there was no need to acknowledge us the rest of the trip.
We paid our bill for the night and then walked back down to the dive shop area to see if we could spot any bioluminescence in the vast, dark ocean. The night was pitch black all around us, but despite the darkness, we still only saw a glimmer or two of light. The stars up above proved to be much more glamorous.
When raindrops started to sprinkle down, we headed back up the round, wooden staircase to the restaurant and ordered a round of drinks. The size of the three seating areas suddenly became apparent. Every last table was packed with Chinese tourists, fresh of the tour busses. We sat on a little couch in the corner and ordered lemongrass coolers and people watched, which proved to be good fun until one of the tourists pulled their screaming kid over to the corner of plush couches where we were sitting. Apparently the kid needed a diaper change because the guy proceeded to start changing his diaper right there, in the middle of the restaurant. That’s when Fletch and I abandoned ship and ran back to the room. Granted I haven’t hit the baby crazy phase of life yet, but changing a dirty diaper in the middle of a busy restaurant is gross, right? Or am I just that far removed from little people?
Although our room was quite nice, it turned into a bit of a disco that evening as all of the lights started strobing on and off. Apparently the power needed to be reset. Several times. When the lights finally stopped playing a synchronized dance to some invisible radio, we fell into a restful sleep.
Sunday
The Bee Farm included a complimentary breakfast buffet. So far all the food there had been so good, so I was excited to see what their breakfasts were like. There were some little pieces of omelette, seasoned with dill which were wonderfully savory. Mangos served with a sort of lemon yogurt were delicious and refreshing, and of course the signature breads and spreads were every bit as buttery and good as the first time we had tried them.
Our transfer to the airport cost us 500 pesos. We said goodbye to Bohol and an unexpected experience. From the people who I’d talked to before going to the Philippines, Bohol seemed to be a common favorite amongst the islands. For Fletch and I, it hadn’t been quite all it had been built up to be. Alona Beach had been fun but a bit over-touristy, Nuts Huts had turned into the start of a bad horror film. The Bee Farm had a lovely atmosphere and delicious food, but turned out to be the go-to dinner spot for Chinese tour busses. It would be interesting to see what the next island would hold.
Travel Tips
- Bohol Bee Farm is a nice place to stay with a fun vibe and delicious food, but be warned that busses full of Chinese tourists tend to show up.
- The transfer from Bohol Bee Farm to the airport costs 500 pesos if arranged through the resort.
