Traveling round Zambales, Vigan, and 100 Islands

I drove north of Manila to Zambales, Vigan and the 100 Islands.

Zambales for a few days cos a friend offered a fab house overlooking the ocean:



And then Vigan cos I'd often planned to go there, a trip never realized. The city has the best preserved Spanish colonial 'bayan' (town centre) in the country, with 'kalesa' (horse-drawn carriages) functioning as taxis.


This CBD is full of rather grand old mansions:

And more humble houses:

Some of the former have been evocatively re-furnished. You have the sense that this 'frozen' scene could suddenly come to life, with the original C18 or C19 owners walking in and asking what you doing there:

The lighting in two and three, remeniscent of C17 Dutch interior painting, is as much the product of the photographer as the moment! Calculating art-ster!

Finally, on to the 100 Islands and something much more athletic. Though the act of traveling round is, in itself, not for couch potatoes!!!

So, the hotel restaurent there, set over the ocean:


And a vantage point for the islands:

The start of a day trip round the islands:

Landing on a deserted beach, and climbing for a view back over where we landed and our boat:

Followed by snorkling and kayaking. And eating and sun-baking.

Post Script

In Vigan Zoo, I realized a life-long dream - getting up close and personal with an orangutan, a couple in fact:

They were so gentle, fixing my gaze with theirs and spontaneously holding my hands and stroking my face. I was totally blised out. And I mean totally.

Dante's Nine Levels of Hell

Okay guys, a general knowledge question about a place that has always gotten a lot of rather bad press. Hell. Now these are the levels:

Purgatory

Level 1 - Limbo

Level 2

Level 3

Level 4

Level 5

Level 6 - The City of Dis

Level 7

Level 8- the Malebolge

Level 9 - Cocytus

And these persons are those goin' there, no way they won't! :

The Treacherous, The Gluttonous, The Virtuous Non-Believers, Heretics, The Wrathful and Gloomy, The Violent, The Lustful, The Prodigal and Avaricious, Repenting Believers, and The Fraudulent and Malicious and Panderers.

So who ends up in which level?

When you're done, how bout checking:

Purgatory - Repenting Believers

Level 1 - Limbo - Virtuous Non-Believers

Level 2 - Lustful

Level 3 - Gluttonous

Level 4 - Prodigal and Avaricious

Level 5 - Wrathful and Gloomy

Level 6 - The City of Dis - Heretics

Level 7 - Violent

Level 8- the Malebolge - Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers

Level 9 - Cocytus - Treacherous

How did you go? Weren't you surprised 'gluttony' is worse , spiritually speaking, than 'lust'! Perhaps this is your view of things anyway!

If you want more info bout any denizen type, just click on the level cos it's a link.
But if you just want a 'ready reckoner' to specifically place yourself ... :




To finish, a couple of modern visions from the Red Nose Gallery - 'Hell' and, to comfort and distract those definitely going to Level 9, 'Heaven':

'Hell'

'Heaven'

See you there!

Sullivan - Provincial Paradise

Do you happen to know the way to THE most beautiful panorama in the world?

I've just happen to have stumbled across it. The journey to these Elysian fields - a little of the C18 provincial city of Sullivan, Baliwag, Luzon, Philippines - is:





They say 'See Naples and die' - they were wrong. Well, they only had part of the story.

Aubrey Beardsley, the Aesthetic Movement and Gay Sensibility

As a kid, I used a series of about 20 large posters of Aubrey Beardsley’s pen and inks as a frieze above the curtain rail, right around my four walls of my bedroom. Much to the ill-concealed consternation of my parents, as these works were obviously the product of a raging gay sensibility. And helped me explore my sexuality at that critical and tumultuous period of my mid-teens.

I was drawn to the work of Aesthetic Movement of the late C19 in general, and in this context, particularly that of Beardsley and Oscar Wilde, and their 'collaboration' in Wilde’s 1893 French ‘Salome’:

Other images in my ‘gallery’ included the elegant, sparkling, frothy and dramatic ‘Peacock Cape’ and ‘Black Cape’ 1907.

And the spookily domestic ‘Lady Reading’ with its rigid and alarming couch covering, and its rather self-contained parrot quietly mocking it's owner's plumes.

Beardsley's output, of course, was quite varied.

There are also the society portraits. Such as the beautifully restrained image of ‘Miss Winifred Emery’ 1895, capturing so effectively her diaphanous cape and light muslin dress …

… and the satirical one of Wilde himself in the guise of Ali Baba, the hoarder of all sumptuous and desirable treasure:

To frighten the horses (aka my parents), I put up the effete ‘La Toilette’ and these other more erotic works:

Sadly, I didn't display these more homoerotic images, though I was aware of them at that time:

Maybe they weren’t available in poster form then. A possible defense! The second pen and ink includes another portrait of Wilde, pedestaled.

It was only much later I found these much more exotic images - of masturbation, of S and M (‘Earl Lavender’), and of general quirky sensuality at play (‘Lysistrata Defending Acropolid’):

But finally to end on a more dignified note, Beardsley's tooled leather beautiful book cover for ‘La Morte d’Artur’:

Sadly this rather unique artist died in his twenties. It's hard to imagine what direction his work would have taken with the demise of the Aesthetic Movement, the imprisonment of Wilde and the de-gaying of the arts that followed. Hope he would have found a way!

A Moment of Levity - Wisdom and Aging

A senior citizen drove his brand new BMW Z3 convertible out of the Car sales room.

Taking off down the motorway, he floored it to 90 mph, enjoying the wind blowing through what little hair he had left. "Amazing!" he thought as he flew down the fast lane, enjoying pushing the pedal to the metal even more.

Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw a police car behind him, blue lights flashing and siren blaring.

"I can get away from him - no problem!" thought the elderly nutcase as he floored it to 110mph, then 120, then 130mph. Suddenly, he thought, "What on earth am I doing? I'm too old for this nonsense!" So he pulledover to the side of the road and waited for the police car to catch up with him.

Pulling in behind him, the police officer walked up to the driver's side of the BMW, looked at his watch and said, "Sir, my shift ends in 10 minutes. Today is Friday and I'm taking off for the weekend. If you can give me a reason why you were speeding that I've never heard before, I'll let you go." The man, looked very seriously at the policeman, and replied,

"Years ago, my boyfriend ran off with a policeman. I thought you were bringing him back."

"Have a good day, Sir," said the policeman.

Not-so-Lilliputian Paraders at ‘Reyna Elena’, Flores de Mayo

The Reigning Reyna Elena

And every year, there are also lots of Reyna Elena (Queen Elena) parades within the Flores de Mayo celebrations … for not-so-Lilliputian persons.

Gays in the Philippines are seen as part of the community rather than apart from it. Which is not to say that gays are necessarily equal here. But queans often have certain specific recognized roles in the social structure. For example, as (often unpaid) workers within political campaigns, and within the Church.

There has recently been an election of the second and third tiers of government – that is, the congress and local councils and their mayors. Patterned after the US system. And the nexus between the gay community and politics was evidenced in the Elena Parade - the escorts of the ‘Beauties’ being new council members. The relationship is reciprocal – gays gain social recognition and councilors involve themselves with the Gay Community for political support.

But this is all the outsiders’ point of view! And, as a local friend rightly tells me, I have missed the essence or spirit of Reyna Elena completely. So I’ll try to capture something of his (positive) criticism. And the local gay point of view on the event.

To be the Elena is the dream of every gay and no-so-gay guy in a provincial community. A dream because it is a great honour to be chosen by your peers – by the old matriarchs, by past Elenas (who on the night endlessly re-live their moment/s of glory), by your peers – the couturiers, make-up artists, and in fact by all the members of gay society. It is an acknowledgment of your popularity and worth, your sexual appeal, your intelligence, and your good looks. Beauty is not enough - you also need grunt in the community. It’s like being Prom Queen – everyone wants to be The Chosen One. It might be seem old-fashioned but it is also a very affirmative image for gays – proud, defiant, putting it out there, not caring what anyone thinks and exhilarating in a distinctive gay identity. And the extraordinary exhilaration for the Reyna of being the focus of the provincial gay calendar!

Preparing for the Pre-Parade Photo-Op:

‘And I too young to do drag?’:

‘No way!’

The Photo Op:

Momentary (but understandable) losses of concentration:

Composure re-gained:

A moments’ relaxation before big parading:

Some repair work:

‘That’s better!’:

Some would-be Elenas:

Final group photo before parading:

On parade with escorts:

‘We lost our escorts!’

The Reyna parading:

‘I’m much prettied - I should’ve been Reyna Elena!’

‘No, it should’ve been me!’

The parade moves on … :

And now we all have to wait for another three years ... for the next parade. Like the Olympics.