7NNT25: Day 20 – Mt Butalao (& Manila)

Soundtrack: “Easy”, The Commodores (though probably the Faith No More cover version) / “When the Going Gets Tough (The Tough Get Going)”, Billy Ocean

One of the big ticket items I’d planned for this trip was to visit the crater of Mt Pinatubo, prior to 1991 a fairly unassuming, nondescript place that no one really paid too much attention to: it wasn’t the highest peak in the area, and hadn’t really shown much activity. Until early 1991, when it did, culminating in the second biggest eruption of the 20th century, making for some wonderful sunsets around the world because of all the stuff it threw into the atmosphere. Sadly about 80 people died, mostly from being in structures that collapsed under the weight of the falling ash, but if the authorities hadn’t listened to the experts and hadn’t conducted large evacuations it would have been a lot worse.

What can I say, volcanoes have always fascinated me (except when I was given a free ticket to see Dante’s Peak, which chat me to tears), so the opportunity to go and see such a well known one, and visit the crater, without having to do too much strenuous climbing, plus with a bonus 4×4 ride bouncing through the Philippine countryside was all I could have wanted. I booked a couple of nights in mid-week in Angeles City as it’s the closest place large place to Mt Pinatubo (and otherwise doesn’t really have much of interest to me, other than sisig) before I found out that the only joiner trips (i.e. joining a tour, not a private tour) were done on Saturdays. Which meant departure from Manila at 2.30am, the only downside.

Unfortunately, from what I’ve read, in April the indigenous people of the area held a protest regarding not getting their fair share of the benefit of tourist income from these tours; apparently the authorities stepped in and arrested some local leaders. While the leaders were then released without charge, it was enough for them to respond by strongly disapproving of any tours — I’m not sure if they’ve actively said no tours, or tour companies are respecting their wishes until a solution can be found, there hasn’t been a lot of accessible media I’ve been able to read.

So instead it’s a 5.20am pick-up to do an approx 2.5 hour “easy hike” up Mt Butalao, a picturesque very dormant volcano hill, just over 800m high, south of Manila with impressive views of Lake Taal. Lake Taal is part of the wonderful lake in an island in a lake in an island feature, so I was happy to check it out.

Loyal readers of this blog may recall that I do like to climb things, however if you go back through the archives I don’t think you’ll find any previous history of long treks up hills out mountains, especially in tropical countries during hot season. There was some walking in Scotland a couple of years ago that didn’t quite kill me, a tall point near Hanoi that had steps all the way up, and when L and I scaled Mt Fan Si Pan, at 3,100 metres the highest point in Viet Nam (light rail, cable car, funicular, 50 concrete steps).

The Mt Butalao trail comprises a series of 12 peaks, spread over several kilometres, and in terms of how these things are graded among mountain climbing folk as an “easy climb”, maybe a 3 or 4 out of 9, where I’m guessing 9/9 is the Himalayas or similar. The sort of climb that with the right preparation, some training, should be achievable. While the path to Mt Pinatubo involves maybe 20 minutes of gentle gradient, a little easy climbing, but otherwise is fairly flat, the sort of thing that can be done with just some regular fitness and minimal prep.

There were 4 in our group, P, who seemed to be eastern european and was built like Dolph Lungren’s proverbial, and D and J, a couple of Filipinos who’ve spent their adult years living and working overseas, who otherwise do exercise things a bit. We all got picked up in various parts of Manila before the driver headed south, through some average traffic, which included a marching band and church procession at one point, and random road works at others. There was a bit of confusion as to where we were supposed to meet out local guide, as every local our driver spoke to seemed to be pointing in a different direction, but eventually we made our way to a little village where we met B, a twenty-something local, sitting and smoking next to a general store. We had a quick stop for the bathroom (FYI there is no running water in this village) and set off.

It was quite hot, getting into the mid 30s, and humid in places, so not my ideal weather. I was being conscious of what the path was looking like, especially when the guide pointed to where our goal was, which looked like a bit of a climb. I was keeping in mind that anything we’d come up, we’d also have to come down. The first part wasn’t too strenuous, and we made it past the rest stops easily, The view was amazing, sometimes stunning hills, other times Lake Taal or another lake, and the other side of the lake was one of the tallest peaks on Luzon. Probably around peak 6 I started to lag, a couple of bits that really required concentration on where I was putting my feat, as it’s a dusty trail which made climbing tricky. There were other climbers coming back as well, making for some challenging passing manoeuvres on narrow paths atop ravines. Add a few steeper patches where ropes had been set up and I was beginning to wonder how easy this actually was.

I made it to peak 10 out of 12 before making the wise decision to stop and be responsible about my growing heat exhaustion. I’d packed 2 litres of water, another half litre of sugary iced tea, and had a small bottle of mountain dew along the path, as enterprising locals have set up small stalls near most of the major peaks. By the time I got to peak 10 I had a little water left, but was sweating faster than I could really drink. I was getting dizzy spells, which might not be a huge problem walking across flat ground, but are potentially fatal when walking a narrow path on a ridgeline with maybe a 100m ravine on either side. I was feeling okay on the bits of the hike we were catching the breeze, but the still parts were really getting harder. Taking into account that getting up was only half of the trek, we’d still have to get back to the village where our driver waited, the sensible decision was to admire the achievement of making it as far as I did, and having a long rest in the shade while the rest of the group went ahead.

I certainly felt a lot better after my vision cleared and I was able to lie down in the shade while sipping water. I was certainly ready to head back down once the group returned, after a quick photo on top of a rocky outcrop (rock climbing is easier to me that trekking up a dusty incline, as long as I know where I can put my feet I’m good). We had a couple of stops where I got some more fluids (yay for enterprising locals). In some ways the last few hundred metres were the hardest, as this consisted mostly of a steady incline back up to the village. I think all of us except possibly P were feeling it at this point (P might have as well, but he’s the strong silent type who may not have spoken much English).

I was literally able to wring the sweat out of my freshly express washed long sleeve linen shirt, that now had a fair bit of dirt on it from lying under the bamboo. I’d packed a spare t-shirt, but did wonder if I’d ever stop sweating. We had the option of a shower, paying by the bucket of water supplied, so I went just one bucket to clean all the dust off my legs and splash a bit of water over the rest of me. I imagined the spa bath that would have been waiting for me had it been the Mt Pinatubo trek from Angeles City, rather than the ok shower of my Manila hotel, but sometimes when life hands you a bucket of water and a plastic cup it could be worse.

I think our driver wishes I’d had the spa rather than sweating onto his seat covers, but he found some cardboard for me to sit on that helped (I did pack a travel towel on this trip but forgot to bring it along). The next stop was lunch at a restaurant overlooking Lake Taal, which had some very good food and amazing view. I went for lechon kawali, wonderful pieces of pork belly served in a sweet/savoury/tangy sauce. They like to pair fatty pork with vinegar/sour sauces in the Philippines, and I’m here for it. I also tried Bulalo, a beef soup made with large pieces of meat, vegetables, and bone marrow. I don’t know why a country with such hot weather has decided they must cook lots of warm, hearty soups and stews, but they are all so tasty I can’t blame them.

It took close to 4 hours to get back to the hotel, because Manila traffic. I had two interesting and contrasting scenarios playing out on the technology around me. First was the driver’s GPS, where I was hoping for long lines of blue meaning less traffic, and less patches of red; the other was tracking the results of the Australian election, where a long red line was my preferred outcome, and a short blue line. The end result was a lot of long red lines on both, and I’m okay with that, the election result had effectively been called before I made it back to my hotel (even though I don’t think my vote has been counted yet, as it’ll be winging its way back to Australia in the purple box I tucked it into.

After a long shower at the hotel I was just about dead, and for one of the first times in my life ordered room service. I’ll say that this hotel does a decent chicken burger and fries, and it was just what I needed, plus a lot of water, before I crashed completely. I did not dream of the joys of a progressive government, nor paths needing ropes to climb. I didn’t even dream of volcanoes.