Last time I wrote about our travel and lodging. This time I’m writing about the beaches and the food.

There are many reasons why you would visit Cape Cod, but for me there’s really one main reason: the beaches. Maybe if you’re into lighthouses, then Cape Cod is a really good place to visit. But for me, the primary lure of Cape Cod is the promise of powdery sand beaches, warm (well, depending on when you go) and calm (on the Cape side). Especially if you’re like me who’s from the Philippines but now lives in the Capital Region where the nearest beach is on a lake, going to a beach where the water is salty is a pleasant reminder of home.

My wife did some research on which beaches are family-friendly and chose two: Corporation Beach and Mayo Beach. Both of these beaches are on the Cape side of Cape Cod, which means they have calmer waters that make it safer for kids to swim in.

Corporation Beach

Corporation Beach is in the town of Dennis, which is in the Mid-Cape section of Cape Cod. The sand is off-white in color and powdery fine in texture, with some fairly large rocks here and there. During high tide there is not much room for the kids to play in (especially if there are a lot of people who have already pitched their tents), but during low tide the water recedes about 80-100 feet to give people more flat surface where adults can play games and kids can play with the sand. The flat terrain continues in the water so that you can go 100 feet from the waterline and it would only be chest-deep. Parking is $20 and depending on what time you arrive, there might be a line, but after about 4 pm parking is free.

Mayo Beach is in the town of Wellfleet, which is in the Lower Cape. It is located right beside a marina. The sand is not as fine as Corporation’s and the beachfront is not as spacious, even during low tide. However there is a playground just across the street so the kids have an alternative in case they get bored. Also, there is no fee for parking.

Sign outside Moby Dick's Restaurant

A visit to Cape Cod won’t be complete without feasting on some seafood. We always make it a point to include lobsters in at least one of our meals, so for one of our lunches we went to Moby Dick’s Restaurant in Wellfleet. You can order lobsters depending on the size, from 1 pound to more than 2 pounds. The ambience is also very nice because the upper area of the restaurant is very airy and you really feel as if you’re eating at a beach.

For one of our dinners we went to a restaurant along Mill Way Road in Yarmouth (I forget the name) where we got some calamari, lobster roll, lobster bisque and my personal favorite, grilled swordfish. You can never go wrong with eating seafood at a coastal area.

Welcome sign as you approach Cape Cod

For our family’s summer trip this year, we knew we wanted to go to the beach (and by beach, we mean the real beach, meaning ocean water, not lake). One of our friends had suggested to go to Wildwood, New Jersey because he had been there before and he liked it. But the hotels, being literally in front of the beach, tended to be expensive so we looked at other options.

Since we had been to Cape Cod a few years ago, my wife suggested to go there instead. Our friends had never been there so they liked the idea.

Lodging

Cape Cod has many houses that you can rent for a week, but since we were only staying for three days, we knew our best bet would be a hotel. My wife did some research on what hotels were good (based on feedback from guests), were family-friendly, was accessible, and not that expensive. She eventually got us a room (which we were sharing with a friend) at the Days Inn with two double beds, a fridge and a microwave. She also got a very good rate for the room because they were offering a significant discount for government employees.

Travel

We had left on Saturday morning at 9 am, and didn’t get there until 4 pm. What would normally be a four and a half hour trip took us seven hours because of the volume of vehicles entering Cape Cod. For most of the trip, the drive was smooth. It was only when you approached Cape Cod that the drive became slower and slower.

In hindsight, it would be ideal if you could schedule your travel to the Cape on weekdays–come in on a weekday, then leave on a weekday. This way you would avoid the very heavy traffic.

In Part 2 – Hitting the beaches and attacking the seafood!

This is my third time vacationing in the Philippines since I migrated to the U.S. For each visit, I had a different perspective: the first, as a predominantly Philippine resident who was just coming back from a long trip; the second, as a transitioning U.S. resident who was “getting into the groove”; and this time, as a mostly assimilated immigrant. Because of these differences in perspective, my experiences during my vacation—in essence, my view of the Philippines—were likewise different. The first time, I felt like I had just been away for a while and that I still knew my way around. The second time, I began to notice changes that had happened while I was away. This time, I am now assimilated enough into the American culture and mindset that I am able to perceive things from a non-Filipino’s point of view.

Take the famous Filipino hospitality, for example. Before, whenever travel shows would highlight how friendly Filipinos are, I would of course be proud of the compliment but I never really understood why it was such a big deal. If you worked at a store or greeted customers, aren’t you always supposed to smile and be gracious? (duh) Now, having lived in the U.S. long enough to get a good grasp of its culture, I can see why it was so noteworthy.

In the U.S., if you are in, say, McDonald’s, you really don’t expect the person taking your order to say anything other than “you want fries with that?” or “you wanna biggie-size that?”.  Said with all the vibrant energy of a sloth (maybe a turtle on  a good day). In the Philippines, the very first thing that you hear as you make your first step inside a McDonald’s is “Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening Sir/Ma’m, Welcome to McDonald’s!”—and that’s not coming from the doorman, that’s coming from one or more of the service crew (which I think number on average around 20, all young and full of energy) who are either behind the counter or cleaning up the tables (did I mention you don’t have to clean after yourself here?).  The other night when I was at a nearby McDonald’s and was trying to buy a spaghetti-fried chicken combo (yes, they have spaghetti and fried chicken here, and the spaghetti is called—you guessed it—McSpaghetti), the girl taking my order

A McDonalds Fried Chicken and McSpaghetti combo meal

informed me that there was only one piece of chicken left and that the spaghetti was also out (it was nearing closing time). I decided to take it anyway, and as I was paying for the meal, the girl assured me, “Di bale sir, malaking piece naman e” (“Don’t worry sir, it’s a big piece”). Maybe it’s a little gesture, but the fact that she said it, coupled with the way that she said it, makes you feel just a little better.

Of course, this is not to say that the service industry in the U.S. is bad and that all restaurants in the Philippines offer excellent service. Far from it. I’ve had numerous encounters with excellent service in the States, both face-to-face and over the phone (and not offshore call centers). But I guess the thing worth noting about Philippine hospitality is that because it originates from the culture itself, it permeates all industries and thus in all dealings with customers.

Another thing—Traffic. Ah yes, the infamous Manila traffic, where the lines on the road are merely suggestions and you count your travel in hours, not minutes. Having been born and raised in Manila, I am used to the idiosyncrasies and frustrations of the Manila commute. On the way home from the airport, what would ideally be a 15-minute ride took more than an hour. The culprit: construction and lots and lots of vehicles. But this is 2 AM, I thought, shouldn’t there be less cars? Well, turns out today is a Friday AND a payday—a desirable combination if you’re a store owner but one to stay away from if you happen to be on the road.

A few days later, we were riding in a car on the way to the mall, and I noticed another thing that I had forgotten while living in the U.S.—street children. In Manila it is not uncommon to see children as young as four years old mingle among slow-moving traffic. Some sell flowers. Some sell lottery tickets. Some offer to wash your windshield. Some knock on your driver’s side window to ask for money. There have been reports of gangs that exploit these children to get money, but either way everyone agrees that these kids do not belong in the streets.  I thought to myself, right now I’m worried about my son’s safety inside a vehicle, but what about those kids who are inches away from getting hit by a car everyday? Something’s not right here.

Speaking of Manila traffic, here are some pointers on driving along Manila’s roads:

• There is no such thing as a short ride. Be ready to allocate one to two hours (one way) for commuting.
• If you have a car, don’t use it. You’ll get there faster and in a better mood. You can even catch up on some reading (but then again, nobody reads while commuting; they converse with friends through text messaging). It’ll save you the hassle of finding a parking spot too.
• Stay away from malls, if you can. The roads around malls are like quicksand; once you’re there you stop moving and there is no getting out.
• Being nice is good, but you’ll definitely finish last. The recommended distance between you and the car ahead is six inches. Anything larger than six inches is a temptation that other drivers will not be able to resist.
• Never, under any circumstance, assume that another driver is letting you pass. Unless you have it in writing (and notarized), they are probably just distracted (with texting—did I mention drivers txt while driving?).
• Flashing your light at another driver means YOU are going first, not them.
• Don’t be shy about using your horns. Believe it or not, it is an essential part of road communications, and is much better than rolling down your windows and shouting some flattering compliments or using sign language using your fist or finger.

Every two or three years for the past decade, my wife and I have been traveling to the Philippines for vacation, staying a few weeks to visit family and friends. This year we are at it again, but this time it’s a first of sorts. This will be the first time in eight years that we get to celebrate Christmas with our family. More importantly, our son, Rainier,  is turning one and we wanted to celebrate his birthday with family and friends in the Philippines. Which means this will be our first time traveling with an infant on a 22-hour international flight. Whew. They ought to do a Fear Factor episode for this.

The first leg of our trip, from Albany to Detroit, was relatively uneventful. The flight lasted about an hour and a half and afforded our son his first glimpse of clouds from an arm’s length away. I tried to read from his face what he thought about all this—What is all that white stuff? Is this a sea of cotton balls? Fluffy wipes? How many poops before I use them all up?

The international airport at Detroit always amazes me. There seems to be something new each time we stop over. This time, while walking from our arrival gate to our connecting flight, we went through this wide tunnel that had walls that changed color and patterns-like a time machine that got stuck in the 60s. Our son was quite entertained (I think hypnotized) with all this, as we strolled along one of those “walking escalators”.

There are only two kinds of people who take the Northwest flight going to Manila from Detroit: Filipinos and Japanese. Filipinos outnumber Japanese about three to one. When I got our boarding passes in Albany, they didn’t have the gate numbers for the connecting flight in Detroit, so I had to look it up. I needn’t have worried—when you spot the gate with the hundreds of Filipinos forming about 48 different boarding lines in disorderly fashion (but always seem to manage not to delay the flight), then I know we’re in the right gate.

One change that I’ve been noticing with myself (one that I suspect happens to other first-time fathers too) is how conscious and observant I am of other parents and their children. This was certainly the case for the second leg of our trip, from Detroit to Nagoya, Japan. When before I wouldn’t remember if a child was sitting right in front of me (except maybe if he made faces), now I would recall that there were three infants in our immediate vicinity: our son, a 12-month old Japanese girl and a 16-month old Filipino boy. I also remember hearing a few other infants crying at the back (we were seated just behind business class). All in all I think I counted about a dozen strollers checked in. My wife and I both think airlines should have a “family” section in longer flights, given the number of parents who fly with their kids. Even though the plane’s engine still makes the loudest sound, you just can’t help but feel sorry for the person unlucky enough to be seated next to you. A plane’s engine is no match for a baby’s shrieks two feet away from your ear. Fortunately the Japanese guy who sat next to us (and who was really nice to agree to switch places with us so we can sit by the aisle) brought earplugs with him. Smart man.

I’ve discovered that time flies-literally-when you have a baby to keep you busy and on your toes-again, literally. For most of the 13 hour flight, I was on my feet comforting our son and/or putting him to sleep. It was admittedly exhausting but it gave me a chance to interact with the flight crew and other passengers, especially the parents. One of the flight attendants (who herself has three sons) took a special liking to Rainier and was kind enough to shut off the bulkhead lights to help put our son to sleep. If only all flight attendants were this nice!

Stop-overs at Japan are always an interesting experience. While state-of-the art electronics scattered around the airport amazed me, I was equally impressed by commonplace things such as family restrooms (private, very roomy, with padded changing tables big enough for an adult to sleep in). And of course Japanese restrooms wouldn’t be complete without all the toilet bowl “amenities” fit for a king: cushioned backrest, water spray aimed at your posterior, customizable by pressure (high/low) and by position (front/rear), and an air blower to dry you off after.

The last leg of our trip, from Nagoya to Manila, took five hours. Although still long, it was relatively shorter compared to the 13-hour marathon we just finished. This time we were seated with an older Filipina who was accompanying her daughter and granddaughter from Tennessee. The daughter, who is a nurse in a Tennessee hospital, was leaving the granddaughter with the grandmother because she couldn’t find any good daycare. This may seem like an extreme situation but sadly this happens a lot with the millions of Filipino workers overseas.

In one Rainier’s fits (and who can blame him? barely eight hours of sleep, two at a time, for the past 18 hours!), he was crying and screaming a bit louder, and after one of the screams, there was a collective “sshhh!” from a few passengers. Part of it was to distract Rainier and get his attention, but of course part of it was irritation too. And then I realized, almost all of the passengers are Filipinos now… we must be nearing home!

When the plane touched down, there was an appreciative applause from more than a few passengers. It was probably because of the good landing-smooth, nothing to be tense about-but I think it was more because we can now stretch our legs and see if they’re still alive. And as we disembarked from the plane, breathed in that warm, humid, polluted Manila air, and greeted by a sea of humanity (“Welcome Ma’m!” “Good Evening Sir!”)-I know we’ve arrived.