Mark and I got up with the sun and got all packed because today was the day we were starting our journey home. We reluctantly trusted the hotel breakfast (could fruit and a pancake really make me sick? let's hope not!) We were picked up in a van and traveled Thai style to the airport in Puerto Princessa.
Before getting to the airport we made a pit stop for squatty toilets and buffet style baked in the sun filipino fish. That doesn't even sound appealing to a normal stomach, much less one that's been nauseous for two days. We'll just skip the pit and head to the port thanks.
Luckily for us even after the questionable stop we were 4 hours early for our flight. Plenty of time to have some normal food, right? We found a cafe upstairs where I got us plain noodles and a lemonade-- Mark was feeling pretty sick at this point. There weren't any seats so we sat on the tile floor and ate our "friendly for the recently food poisoned" noodles. After filling our tummies we found out that our flight was delayed. Fast forward-- our flight didn't take off until two hours after it was scheduled to, so that put us at 11 hours of travel time without even having left for our final destination. Woof. How did we pass the time you ask? We found some actual seats on the first floor (thank god!) and decided to play a game of cards. It was supposed to be a game for two but apparently Mark and I looked inviting because next thing we knew there was a small child grabbing at the cards and trying to deal himself in (and by dealing himself in I mean trying to run away with the cards) He was "dealing", yelling and even canoodling up to us-- a true poker player, really. The best part? Mark was so thrown off by our third party that his game suffered accordingly. The even better part? Mark got so fed up by the unsportsmanlike conduct one minute and the star crossed lover conduct the next that he started telling the boy to "stop" in Tagalog (the language of the Philippines). Little did Mark know however, that the boy wasn't understanding a word he was saying because he wasn't Filipino, he was Korean. The only thing missing from this scene was a camera crew and Ashton Kutcher yelling "punked". Unfortunately this wasn't a tv show, this was our life and unfortunately we boarded our flight right behind the Korean card stealing curmudgeon. Someone must've given him a tranquilizer though, because we didn't hear from him the whole flight. Upon arrival in Manila we were starving, so we grabbed food from jollibee, a filipino fast food chain that we found in the airport. Gross. Yuck. Disgusting. This was going to make me sick all over again. We left after having only a bite or two each from our burgers. Instead of looking for another food spot we headed to bed hungry because at 3:30am we would be up again trying to catch our flight to China.
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