The 370km BACK to Puerto Princesa!
El Nido Travel Blog› entry 5 of 5 › view all entries
So today was the day we would all head back to Puerto Princesa. Needless to say that as usual we ended up getting hammered. I would've included mentioning it in the last paragraph of the last entry, but I didn't want to ruin the sentimental mood I was trying to describe. Nothing sentimental about getting shitfaced ok? We all woke up early to make sure GB would board the AC-van back to Puerto Princesa so that she could go see an ear-specialist. At the AC-van, there was a couple either from France or Canada who were acting like complete imbeciles. He was almost 6'3 and complained about the inferior AC-van not meeting his superior 1st-world developed body-size. As much a dick he was, she was an even larger cunt, harassing the driver about things she need not worry about.
While GB took the AC-van, the 370km journey back to Puerto Princesa on motorbike awaits me and BK. God, I did not look forward to this! The night before my Red Horse had a flat tire but was resolutely fixed along with re-threading my front shocks by Albert's connections. Loaded up on hydration, did some last minute shopping, mainly band-aids for all my mosquito-bites, and we were off. Our flight back to Manila was scheduled at 9AM the following day so we had to make it back in one piece, no excuses!
The front shocks on the Red Horse felt a little stiff probably because sand had mixed with the hydraulic fluid, whatever was left of it.
BK and I were in full concentration mode. Blazing through the dirtroad like dirtbike professionals with the precision handling of swerving around potholes. It felt good. It felt like a videogame to me: every pothole successfully swerved at full speed got me points, every set of potholes I mistakenly rode over at full speed meant blunt force trauma on my nuts. Somewhere along the way, we stopped at a marijuana field we noticed when we first rode by. I was surprised it wasn't guarded by men with assault rifles, but from the weed I smoked in the PI, there really is no reason to guard that kind of swag.
The limit soon came when BK ran over a series of rocks and punctured Red Horse's front tire. We were 12km out, luckily or not, from the nearest almost-city. We didnt want to backtrack 12kms so we tried to see if one of these isolated village homes along the way has some form of relief: cold beer, ganja, food, airpump, anything! We got to this house on the side of the road who saw us sputtering along and kindly asked them for an airpump which they were happy to provide. Man, luck was with us! So after a half-hour of taking turns pumping in the smoldering heat, the front tire seemed to be almost inflated enough to carry us further along the trail.
We get to TayTay and stopped at the first tireshop we seen, otherwise known as a Vulcanizing shop. Vulcanizing is a the process by which punctured inner tubes are patched up by way of melting rubber pieces onto the punctured opening. To my astounding discovery, this front tire had over 5 vulcanizing jobs under its belt which made me think that the people we rented these motorbikes from were almost expecting this to happen.
8 hours later we were back in Puerto Princesa. More things have happened along the way which include seeing a truck completely demolished after colliding into a bulldozer and BK bailing off the bike. Nothing major. But the important thing is that we made it back and GB was waiting for us in the hotel. She could actually hear now since the specialist had special tools to get rid of the dirty cheese that was still lingering in her ear.
Oh, when we dropped off the bikes we pretended that nothing happened since they might charge us for damages to the bike. Therefore we just dropped them off and tried to get the hell away quickly from the street. Apparently we werent fast enough because the guy came back on the bike looking for us up and down the street as he pointed out that the front shocks bolts were not the same. Actually he was right because the bolts that Albert's friends put on back in El Nido were completely circular and had to way for any regular wrench to turn them. There goes another 150 peso to make the guy happy. Well, 150 peso is a small price to pay for the wealth of experience and character-building moments so we gladly paid with no remorse or complaint.