Bohol this and more

it’s become way too trendy to write about trips to Bohol, so I am determined not to mention the Chocolate Hills, tarsiers or old churches even once in this article.

Just kidding. It turns out you can’t write about Bohol without mentioning the Chocolate Hills, tarsiers or old churches. But those are just some of the things this southern island has to offer, as I found out during a recent weekend stay at Bohol Beach Club on the island of Panglao.

One arrives in southern Bohol from Manila at the Tagbilaran Airport, and it’s a half-hour drive from there to Panglao Island (you cross over on a bridge). The Bohol Beach Club (or BBC) is one of the oldest resorts in Panglao, having opened in 1984. It’s still well-kept, offering plenty of shade and comfort before stepping onto the white sands or testing the sapphire-blue waters. The cabins are also cozy and quite near the beach, where you can try out the usual water sports–banana-boat rides, kayaking, jet-skiing, diving trips–for a fee. Only the food (fried everything which takes forever to arrive) leaves something to be desired.

Beaching is half of the reason to come here; the other half lies on and off the roads of Bohol, so we set out the following morning to visit the local sites. Our first stop is a bronze statue overlooking Tagbilaran bay heralding the Blood Compact of 1565. Commemorating the first international treaty between the Philippines and Spain, the statue depicts Miguel Lopez de Legazpi, a Mexican, emptying goblets of wine mixed with blood with local chieftains Si Katuna and Si Gala. They seem a jolly lot. I asked Craig, our guide, if this act really signaled a period of friendship or simply the onset of centuries of plunder and colonization.

"No, I think it was friendship," he answers without missing a beat. "It opened up trade with Europe."

The European connection certainly persists in Bohol, where half the diving shops seem owned by Germans, the other half by Swiss. Our host, James, explains how Europeans love Bohol so much, they inevitably end up marrying Filipinas and opening businesses here. Apparently tropical islands are a big selling point for landlocked Europeans, who spend about four months a year working in the Old Country, the rest of the time relaxing on the beaches of Bohol.

Further up the road as we reached Loboc, James points out what is known locally as the Never-ending Bridge–another one of those local projects that has gone expensively off-course. Apparently, the mayor way back when okayed a bridge crossing the river running parallel to Loboc Road. Unfortunately, continuation of the bridge on the opposite side would have placed traffic squarely in the center of a local church. Thus the plan was scrapped, and the bridge simply crosses the river and stops at the edge of the road. Kids now use it for diving into the river and for shade.

You hear about these things but never really believe they’re true, until you actually see a half-completed bridge going nowhere. Even without the plans, a simple eyeballing would have alerted any engineer that their bridge was heading straight for a building. An obvious explanation is graft and kickbacks, but I tend to give the benefit of the doubt to provincial politicians, who in other areas seem decent and law-abiding. So it was probably just stupidity.

As we continue along the river, we notice a white cross in the western hills above Loboc. As this was Holy Week, there was naturally a story behind it. Cleverly referred to as The Cross, the 13 hills overlooking Loboc are a pilgrimage site representing the Stations of the Cross. Each year pilgrims come to trek by foot across the hills in the summer heat as a show of sacrifice. There is little provision for motor vehicles on these hills, though one family–legend has it–tried to drive across them and plummeted over the edge.

As we continue on the road toward the famed Chocolate Hills, we are reminded of how clean and simple provincial life seems to be. There’s no litter, garbage or junked heaps of cars crowding people’s front yards. Everything seems in its right place: simple, practical, useful. For fun there are basketball rings constructed out of trees on dirt courts; kids ride bikes to and from the river. Alongside the road, wave upon wave of nipa fronds blow in the breeze.

We ascend toward the Hills, winding through several kilometers of deep shade provided by The Manmade Forest. A favorite stopover site for visitors who never get to see actual trees in Manila, the twisting road offers a stunning view: hectares and hectares of thick, dense forest, all Philippine mahogany planted in scattered rows. It could easily remind you of a road trip through upstate California or Vermont, the sunlight glinting off the leaves. The air is noticeably cleaner as you pass through this glade and upwards to where the Chocolate Hills begin to emerge.

The Chocolate Hills–some 2,000 of them– were formed from coral deposits left behind several million years ago then pushed up from the ocean floor. Calcium carbonate gradually eroded into the shapes now dotting the hills. The best time to visit is summer, when the Hills are the same brown color as Hershey Kisses. Even the local candy–little peanut and egg-white clusters –are made in the shape of these hills.

Before you see anything, though, you ascend a steep 200-step incline to the observation point. This is a little bit harder if you’re carrying a 16-pound baby strapped to your chest. But it’s well worth it, with resting points along the narrow stairway and a large bell mounted at the top that everyone feels compelled to clang at least once.

Majestic as the Chocolate Hills may be, they can instantly bring to mind of mounds of horse dung. At least this was the observation of several other visitors who came, viewed and left in succession after a furious round of photo-taking. As there are no CR facilities at the observation point, it’s a good idea to consider using such amenities before ascending the Hills.

What strikes the eye is how evenly level the Hills are, a product of natural erosion. Calcium carbonate gradually gave way to vegetation, but there are no farmers or tourists visible among the Hills, which are a protected natural treasure. My Action Asia guide to the Philippines says mountainbiking and exploring the Chocolate Hills by foot can be arranged.

Back on the road, we stop at (one of many) Tarsier Visitor Centers along Loboc River. The 16 tarsiers bred and raised in captivity here are friendly and cute as hell. Tarsiers are tiny primates weighing a mere four ounces and measuring only three to six inches long. They live to be 20 years of age, and at night they sprout leathery bat wings and hunt for human flesh. No, I just made that part up. In truth, the tarsier is a carnivore which feeds on birds, lizards and insects. The keeper of the petting area suggests that they are also cannibalistic, which is why a mother tarsier and her newborn young were kept in a cage separate from the other, more free-spirited, specimens.

They are also very good at leaping–up to 20 feet–and visitors are encouraged to hold a couple of them in their outstretched palms or on their shoulders for picture-taking. In fact, the tarsier has made a pretty good comeback. Many are still bred in captivity, but thanks to efforts to protect the population from entrepreneurs and poachers, there are said to be over a thousand living in the greeny hillsides along the river.

We have lunch at the Loboc Riverview Restaurant, a quaint, open-air bamboo-decor cafeteria that allows you to carry your food onto waiting ferry boats. You can take these down the river to a small waterfall, and enjoy scenery that comes straight out of Apocalypse Now.

It is a long day of sightseeing, but we make one last stop at the Baclayon Church. Built in 1565, it’s said to be the oldest stone Catholic church in Southeast Asia. Inside, the vaulting tabernacle is illuminated by simple but spectacularly effective stained-glass windows. The prism effect is best experienced in late afternoon, where certain pews and corners of the church are bathed in reds, blues, yellows and greens.

Outside, we have a brief Mad Cow Scare before returning to the van. Apparently, someone’s angry young calf is on the loose, circling the parking lot of the church, kicking and snuffling at everyone in sight. We never find out whether it was the church’s mascot or a neighbor’s prize pet, but it succeeded in keeping us away from the van until somebody came up and had a few strong words with the calf before leading it away.

The next day, we got up at 6 a.m. to do some dolphin watching and snorkeling. Again, Bohol is ideal for this. After a 30-40 minute banca ride, we get within a hundred feet or so of a massive school of spinner dolphins, all playfully flipping in the air and diving. We aren’t allowed to get within petting distance, probably for the good of the dolphins, but we get a great early-morning view of these spectacular creatures in their natural environment. Whale-watching trips are also conducted further out to sea.

We speed around to Balicasag island for some snorkeling. Again, the coral and variety of fish here are another untapped splendor of the Philippines. In the distance we make out the infamous Siquijor Island, where several witches are said to reside. We didn’t visit, but I’m told there are strange, abandoned churches, haunted caves, black-magic rituals and a statue of the Virgin Mary clutching a skull in one hand and an inverted crucifix in the other. It’s enough to give most Catholics the heebie-jeebies.

Anyway, a mere two days in Bohol is hardly enough to discover its pleasures. There are waterfalls, immense caves and places for the more athletically-inclined to trek and climb. There are many, many beaches and plenty of resorts to choose from. And did I mention the Chocolate Hills, tarsiers and old churches?