We decide to leave a day early. With the island explored and Thresher sharks seen, there is too much left to see outside of Malapascua. A final breakfast of toast and omelette sets us up for the day. We pay our 100 pesos for the ferry and bid a sad farewell to a lovely island getaway. Back at the mainland, we again navigate the wobbling plank and bamboo stick for balance. Eventually a bus to Cebu city is found. Air conditioning consists of all windows being open and our bags are placed in the aisle near the front. Squashed into place, a large local lady squeezes next to me and smiles. She sits slightly sideways in order to give me a little more legroom but uses my left side as a back rest. Sweat in free fall, I relish the natural air con when the bus moves. My arm hanging out the window, buys me another inch. The bus is only 180 pesos and whilst I fry next to the window, Craig speaks to a local lady who helpfully explains where we need to get to at Cebu to go further south. The lady next to me smiles again and gets off at one of the many stops along the road. She is replaced by another smiling lady who uses my calf as a foot rest and my ribcage to park her elbow. There is something to be said for travelling in the east - a sense of humour a necessity (LT). Feeling dehydrated I take the opportunity to buy some water and coke at a longer pitstop. 60 pesos gets us both drinks. When I turn I see the bus is moving and run to jump onto the open door frame.

The next few hours I fry my arm out the window whilst my new buddy squashes me making sure she gets every inch of the tiny seat. As we approach Cebu it is noticeable how many armed guards there are protecting various shops, banks, petrol stations. Even the poorer shop fronts have patrols. I watch a security van picking up a delivery with 2 shotgun wielding guards covering it. I pull out my money belt for the first time in weeks. Arriving at the North terminal, we grab a taxi to the South terminal. About 10 minutes away we get checked by another shotgun wielding guard. Craig informs me from a book he is reading that the Philippines has hundreds of private armies due to corruption. Not sure if this extends to the guards I am seeing. A helpful worker at the terminal tells us to go to bay 8 for Oslob. There are other bays but this one is air conditioned, which my right arm is grateful for. The grumpy driver of the first bus has a fit when we ask where to put our bags. I check onboard and its full anyway. 30 minutes later, another bus appears and it's a free for all to get a seat. Craig secures the bags and I battle on board. Seats are bigger and some dreadful Dwayne Johnson action flick is on. A horrible remake of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, but who cares, I'm on a comfortable bus. Vendors constantly pop on with huge bags filled with smaller bags of pork scratching, dried banana, or bottles of water. Takes about 90 minutes to get out of the city and thankfully the onboard film is almost at a close.

The city opens to fields of goats, paddy fields with water buffalo. Farm houses, palm trees and small villages whizz past. Following the coastline, we stop to constantly pick up passengers and vendors. Its 6pm and don't have a clue where we are. Bus left at 2:45pm.

After several terrible films, we arrive at 8pm. I am covered in what seems like bites, but it must be a nasty heat rash. Several hundred marks on my legs and lots on my arms. Doing my best not to scratch. Instead of going to Oslob, the driver has dropped us off at Tan Awan. There is almost nothing here. The accommodation we check out is above someone's living room, stinks of fish and beds that have seen better days. Irony is its pricier than Malapascua. We try a few more places and settle for an over priced room with 2 bunk beds. I reattach the door handle that seems to be resting in my hand. We kill off the mozzies, debug the beds and set up our net's. An antihistamine soothes the tremendous desire to itch. This is where the whale sharks are and the locals are milking it. They transport the plankton in to keep the sharks here and charge £15 to snorkel with the herds of tourists for 30 minutes. Leaves a bad taste and I decide not to do it. I question what is both happening to the area being removed of plankton and god knows what else. Not to mention what happens when the sharks breed and create zoo babies incapable of hunting? We go for dinner at the local roadside cafe and chat to the French owner. He discusses the poverty and corruption of the Philippines that will see the downfall of the marine life here. 90% of fish that appear in European fishtanks come from the Philippines. We head back to our digs for some refuge beneath our nets.