Potpourri of Impressions

The pilot comes over the loudspeaker. We hear a noise. Thud. I become a little uneasy. I think to myself, that was just the prep for the landing gear, right? That's supposed to happen, right? The latter of these questions I decide not to keep to myself and opt to run by Gino, who is gazing out the window to the left of me.
Not mesmerized by any particular thing, more so he is probably just wondering what the land under us looks like. "Yeah," he says - eyes still fixed to the glimpses of light below. It's 6:25 pm and I, being the experienced traveler that I am, find myself a bit nervous. Not because I think we are about to crash, but because in less than five minutes we will be grounded in a country that I know nothing about.
Yes, I did it to myself again. I planned a trip with doing zero research. No itinerary and no plans for accommodation or destination. Four weeks before, I walked into a travel agency, asked for discount air fares, ignored the travel agent's dissuasion of the Philippines and here I am sitting on a plane moments away from the beginning of an unknown adventure. Oh yeah, I did pause to quickly pack at midnight the night before. It's a typical Danielle. I'm not so sure, however, that it is a typical Gino, who consensually was dragged into this. With fare warnings of political instability and terrorist-ridden hotspots, and limited research as to where those actual spots are, let's just hope that this trip works out like all the others and turns out to be unforgettable bliss.
We have found ourselves in Cebu, nestled in a myriad of islands in the central Philippines, about to get many different tastes of Filipino culture and the hassles that go along with it.
Our first taste of this, white-people-I-want-your-money hungry culture came the first two days on the airport island of Mactan. Hailing a taxi, strolling along the beach, sunbathing in the sand: these were among the long list of things that we could never find ourselves doing without a local hassling us to participate in something for money.
"Danielle, don't these people understand that no matter how many times I walk past their shop, I still don't want to 'play Jet-ski?'" Gino's obvious displeasure with the hassle-factor was paralleled by mine as well. My first impression was that backpacking in the Philippines was very different than other South-East Asian countries. They blatantly want to rip you off for everything!
We needed refuge from our first two nights of expensive hotels, ingenuine people and rocky beaches.
We stumbled upon our safe-haven after meeting two well-researched backpackers at the ferry terminal to Bohol. After the chitchats Gino and I pulled ourselves aside and decided that we would just follow them to their destination, it sounded nice enough. So God bless Chris and Charlene. By hitching a 40-minute ride with them on the island we discovered the true Filipino culture: laid-back, endearing, no strings attached kindness.
"The Filipino people are some of the nicest, friendliest, hospitable, and welcoming people you will ever encounter," my American acquaintance, who has been to the Philippines every year since 2000, explained to me in an email.
" Once you've developed a friendship with them, they will forever be your friend and will take the shirt off their back for you (even if it's their only one) if you ask."
To conclude a long story for the sake of time, that is exactly what we discovered in every other minute after leaving the hustle and bustle of the airport island. Maybe the lesson learned here is to just stay far away from airports.