fter the party is over readers – well in this case the loneliness begins again. Ever been lonely in a crowd of people, felt isolated and detached from normality, absorbed in your own thoughts – not really caring about anything else but what ails you at that time?

I stood in line with my new wife at Sydney International, laughing and joking with her, taking photos of her looking drawn and anxious as the final minutes of our honeymoon ticked by all too quickly.

Then she was through a gate, and I was left facing a three hour train ride home. Newcastle to Sydney and return – over eight hours of travel or waiting in terminals of one sort or another. I wouldn’t have minded so much if I was going on a holiday but I was seeing my wife of twenty days off as she returned home after a short three week holiday/honeymoon. That made the usually quite reasonable train journey all that more intolerable.

I felt pretty rotten when I left her crying in Puerto Princesa last April, but this was much much more difficult. She is coming back in December (I hope) and that is not so long to wait, but then I lose her again until April 09 so the next separation will cost us more emotionally.

On the bright side, I have a wife again and soon I will have the joy of her company full time. We both knew this would be a challenging experience and we are both living up to the challenge an I think she deals with the hardships much better than I do.

So, backtracking a bit: The wedding went as well as I planned. Mary Grace arrived on Sunday 12^th Oct and on Monday 13^th was being fitted in her wedding dress. I took some great shots of that process but lost them all because MG had inadvertently bought with her, a nasty piece of malware (virus) in a camera memory card which infected my laptop.

Subsequently we couldn’t plug any USB devices like external hard dives onto the laptop because the damned thing jumped as soon as you. So my computer was re-formatted and all those first and second day pics have gone to the gods. On a bright note, since w are both keep photographers, we got heap of photos of the holiday.

I decided against formal wedding photography. I think people get conned by wedding photographers into buying into hundreds of shots of everyone who shows up and in m opinion, a few of the guests, a few of the bridal party going through their routines and that’s about it. Besides, I thought could do it all myself and use a tripod where I was required in a shot – you know set the timer then run back to take your place in the picture.

As it transpired, I had a friend take a few and I took a few and that was all – I have enough and for those that have waited for them, here they are:

The bridal party, Best Man, Old Man, freezing young pinay and beautiful bridesmaids. Before Mary Grace even arrived in Australia I was aware that rain was forecast for the big day but I had booked a local park for a nice Spring outdoor wedding.

The rain held off thank God but it was gloomy, threatened to bucket at any minute and was pretty damned cold. So hopefully, if the bride looks a tad grim it was because she is a tropical orchid and was freezing rather than her choice of husband. At least I hope that was the case.

I hope I look happy here because I was feeling pretty damned happy and very much in awe of my wife let me tell you. For a girl who is as inexperienced in some of life's ways as she is, she did me proud. She bore herself with dignity and poise and with the exception of one small moment when she became a bit emotional, she ruled the day. She looked awesome in her dress and yes, for the photos, she braved the cold but for the ceremony I gave up my nice warm jacket for her.

That is all for now readers I have to get back to the tale of the April holiday before I post any more shots of our recent adventures, so... no, wait, one more.......

How does one cut a wedding cake? Carefully of course !! It was much nicer looking than the photo and the reception was relaxed, happy and elegant but good fun also. Everyone had a nice time and the last guests to leave were thrown out after a small fracas with some university students at around 1am the next morning!!

Peace, love and mung beans

Mick and Mary Grace out......

Hello readers,



This is an amendment. Someone has just posted a comment on this rant, pointing out to me that in my method of vilifying Marie Williamson or whatever her name was, I am as guilty as she of bigotry.



I am not sure I agree with the person making the observation (her comment is appended to this re-worked rant) but having said that I have re-read my angry words a few times since posting them and I have not been entirely happy with the harshness of my reply.


I was outraged as you might imagine but perhaps I should have stepped back and taken a few short breaths. I expect to be confronted, hopefully only occasionally, with this discriminatory attitude because the quite considerable age difference between her indoors and my good self is very confronting to some people. I wish this were not the case, I wish everyone could support our relationship but it would be unrealistic of me to hold on to that.


I have always been one to veer away from the status quo so I suppose I should toughen up some. The thing that really worries me is: it is not just me who is copping the flak. A person so sweet and loving, so demure and innocent that she has captured my heart entirely, will also take some hits.

And I don't like that. Mind you, I am receiving some marvellous support and positive comments both IRL and online so they more than make up for the words of poor stupid Marie.

Thing is, I want to drag bigotry and racism and nastiness out into the sunlight and watch it wriggle and squirm under the harsh light of sarcasm. I forgot that humour is a great tool and this is the approach I should have made.

You see Marie's comments were idiotic. I have posted hundreds of photos here of many different subjects, not one of which has been salacious in any degree. Clearly MG is an adult person and these photos of her are in the minority and placed here to do her homage. Indeed I have only recently posted photos of her as I began telling my Philippine story of which she is an integral part.



But Marie, in her "wisdom" could not see that and chose to accuse me of terrible things, clearly ignorant of the commentary of the blog. Even her language bespoke stupidity.

So I have removed this rant and Maries photo from this blog - I was sick of looking at her truth be told. And OK I don't have the moral high ground but to my reader who set me on this path:

I have no idea who you are. You say you are a keen reader but ... sorry you aren't on my friends list (so nothing to delete there) and I cannot remember you ever commenting on me before. You blogged over on your site about being disappointed by people who fall from their pedestals but you know, I never set myself up on a pedestal with claims to be perfect, so please don't put me there.

I am human, I err and I get angry over stupidity. Oh and "peace Love and Mung Beans" is a dumb line out of an equally dumb movie, not a personal philosophy. As for putting you on ignore, unless you want that, I have no intentions there.

So, in memory of dumb movies ...

Peace Love and Mung Beans,

Mick Out

Hello Blessed Lovelies!!

Here continueth the Palawan series of Blogs.

I want to point out one thing to you dear reader: I am not writing these blogs for any other reason than to tell the story of my travels in an honest and hopefully amusing way. It is not my intention to denigrate local tourist facilities in Puerto Princesa or anywhere else in the Philippines. It is true I had a certain set of expectations of the tourist attractions I had researched online prior to travelling. It would be untrue to say that the expectations were not met, more that they were met but not in the way I expected.

I think it true to say, I came away from the holiday with a deep and abiding sense of satisfaction. I had, after all, met face to face with my lovely bride to be and validated the relationship which was mapped out so carefully online. But there was more to it, I was in a place so different to my own experiences and values that it changed me a little – and changed me for the better. You have to appreciate experiences like that.

I have tried to sum up Puerto Princesa City in so many words, and yet the true value, the sense of the place eludes me even now. In this blog I will reveal some more of the beauty and squalor of the place, the poverty and the industriousness of the people. I hope my photos and sometimes irreverent narrative will convey the right impression of this place.

And now for some irreverence:

It was April 7^th – day 6 of the holiday and gloomy was the sky ere we set out, hearts heaving with the excitement of adventure and unmitigated pleasure which, we imagined, awaited us. Twenty three seconds later, in wringing wet clothes, we stood outside the Pension waiting for a tricycle driver to pick us up. The first guy to arrive was the size of a horse. You don’t see too many fat Pinoys, they are an attractive people but of course there are exceptions to every rule.

Off we set, spluttering down the road, intent on sightseeing our way around the Butterfly Farm and Vietnamese Village, two destinations I had researched online.

Once we left the precincts of Puerto Princesa proper, the suburbs gave way to a cross between suburban and rural geography. Riding in a tricycle is to be pleasantly exposed to your surroundings, by dint of the size and design and inherit flimsiness of the vehicle. So if it rains, you will get wet. If it is dusty, well you get the picture. But the breeze is plentiful and pleasant and the sightseeing is easy and relaxed.

Eventually we got to the Butterfly farm which is a small, but pretty tropical garden, enclosed in one would assume, butterfly proof netting. The Farm itself sits in a quadrangle, surrounded on all sides by walls or buildings. The admission price is cheap but there are no tiny people riding dragonflies and herding domesticated butterflies to milking or branding as alluded to in my previous blog. Once I got over the disappointment of the latter, I regarded my surroundings and decided two things: crumbling and perhaps a little under maintained, interestingly humid.

There wer lots of beautiful tropical plants

She is beautiful isn’t she? I’m marrying her in about 23 days from now. Me. Even I can’t get over it. You should know how lucky I feel readers, talk about mung bean free days!!

So yup mind back on the tourist thing. I spent a good two hours or so chasing butterflies around the quadrangle. There were not a lot of different species. Personally I expected more, but we had the place to ourselves so I was able to grab some reasonable photos.

Expectation made these three times bigger and wildly colourful but these were pretty in their own way......

this is more like it !!

The planting was typically tropical so there were opportunities to snap a pretty flower here and there. The insects were not particularly co-operative. Perhaps we were there at the wrong time of year, I was expecting huge, colourful giants, breathtaking colours and lots more butterflies than were actually present. But my expectations were met because I was in the company of a beautiful woman, yup here she is again:

Hey, I'm in love here - I'm allowed!!

And it was a pleasant – although moist couple of hours during which time I changed expectations and was happy none the less.

We left the Butterfly Farm and went next to the Vietnamese Village. Now there was a big change of expectation. It seemed apparent on arrival that the place was deserted!

Deserted and run down yet here was a neat Catholic Church and a shrine to the Virgin Mary (blue is her colour apparently – note the colour of most of the buildings) midst all the desolation.

I thought we would be in a village, run as a tourist attraction with lots of people living there dispossessed lives – this village was originally founded by Catholic Vietnamese refugees fleeing the trauma of post war Vietnam.

I wasn’t thinking of the deserted streets and weedy avenues where vacant blocks spoke of buildings allowed to decay or that had been demolished. I got the impression that this was once a big place but the people, for the most part, had moved on. The souvenir shop which I was interested to look at was closed but once again, my expectations were changed and satisfied in a different way.

This is the entrance to a beautiful and surprisingly large Vietnamese Restaurant.

We ate lunch there, and had a wonderful time. I have a soft spot for Vietnamese cuisine, it is usually lighter and tastier than Chinese food (as it is served here, modified for Australian palates). I was not disappointed the service was elegant and prompt, the food delightful. It was a good find and well worth the tricycle ride.

Forget about the village. If you are ever in Puerto Princesa City, go to the Vietnamese Village for the Church and the restaurant. It was like stepping back to in time a little, we got there early for lunch and were the only diners so it was a serene and relaxing experience.

On the way back to our Pension, not far from the Vietnamese Village, our tricycle blew a tyre. Not huge problem, the driver just pulled over into one of many little workshops where tricycles are repaired and work was under way immediately.

Look at the size of our driver, no wonder the poor bloody tyre went…

We didn’t hang around for long, even though I had this beautiful girl to wait with,

we paid the driver out and hailed another tricycle. It was though, a perfect opportunity to illustrate the average streetscape in that neck of the woods. The squalor and obvious poverty set against a beautiful tropical backdrop.

Just look at the shop where the tyre is being repaired, he’s a mechanic, a tyre repairer, sells clothing, rural supplies, empty drums anything and any way he can turn a piso and feed his family.

These little businesses scratching out a living by the roadside. Dirty, dusty little stops along the highway usually just tacked onto the front of the house, selling beer and Tanduay Rum alongside candy and soft drinks, fixing tyres, topping up mobile phones “Load” as they call it, anything to make a living, raise their kids, worship their God and live decent, industrious lives.

Everyone works here, if you don’t you are supported by someone who does, otherwise you starve. And yet these people seem happy in their day to day lives.

And finally, here is the Jeepney, king of the Philippine roadways, transport for the masses. The people sitting on top of the vehicle are those who pass smelly farts and are asked politely to sit outside, on the roof.

Peace, love and mung beans to make you fart!!

Mick Out.....