Cherry Blossom Viewing at Koishikawa Botanical Gardens

Despite the sheer number of posts I've written about Koishikawa Botanical Gardens, I'd never been able to visit during cherry blossom season. Luckily, I managed it this year, and it was just as lovely as you'd expect.

During hanami (cherry blossom viewing) all of the major Tokyo parks become horrifically crowded, to the point where it can disrupt your appreciation of the flowers. This park is located at least 15 minutes from all nearby train stations, weeding out the lazy.

The sun shining through the haze of flowers.

Daffodils and cherry blossoms.

The pond was teeming with tadpoles.

A Break for Cherry Blossoms

The cherry blossoms peaked this week in Tokyo, and they were so pretty, I actually found myself taking a detour through a sakura-lined street on my walk to work the other day. This is Oedo Fukagawa, which connects to Sumida River.

As my mother says, often you only become aware of a place once the cherry blossoms start blooming. True to word, this street was only a block past where I usually walk, but I'd never even noticed that there was a river nearby until I saw the burst of pale pink.

Happy people enjoying a cherry-viewing boat ride on a Monday morning.

At their peak, the trees for a sort of canopy over your head as you walk.

This is alongside Sumida River.

You can't see it to well, but the paths all along the river are dotted with sakura trees.

From Taytay to Apulit Island

From Taytay to Apulit Island, where the resort I stayed at is located, you take a nice boat and chug along for about an hour and a half.

I only had to compare this boat to the others I saw on Taytay Bay to know that it was a luxury.

The waves were fairly hard, sending up sprays of ocean water, but I found the rocking comforting.

The island coming into view. El Nido Resorts is the only resort on this tiny, beautiful island.

There are fifty cabins in all.

The docking area, which is surrounded by a lot of coral and many schools of fish.

The staff, welcoming us with a song and dance.

Santa Isabel Fort

Fuerza de Santa Isabel, which overlooks Taytay Bay in Palawan, the Philippines. It was  completed in the early 18th century, and was mean to protect inhabitants from pirates who were against the Spanish occupation.

Built out of solid rock, the fort was remarkably well preserved.

You go in through the entrance, and climb the stairs to a small room in the second level, where a guide explains the history of the fort and of Taytay.

Climbing up to the third level.

A church stands on the top level.

The stone basin in the center of the previous photo contained a handful of dried-out plumeria (or frangipani).

There are four bastions on the corners of the fort, and they are named after San Toribio, Santa Isabel, San Juan and San Manuel. Some are in better shape than others, signalling the areas that had the most attacks.

The view from one of the bastions.

The view directly opposite the previous photo. Apparently, when the fort was built, they also created an underground passage that linked the two churches together.

One of the several cannons on display.

The fort from the side.

Taytay, Palawan

Taytay, a small village in the province of Palawan in the Philippines.

It faces Taytay Bay, and to the east, there are a handful of tiny islands. Everyday supplies are loaded onto the boats here, and then they make their way to them.

The clams you see a couple meters into the water are about the size of a fist, but if you go diving, you can see shells this large. 

The dogs were all collarless, were never touched, and were perpetually inactive. All unimaginable in Tokyo dogs. 

I never tired of finding chickens with chicks. 

Made a pit stop at one of the many general stores lining the main road. Since Taytay itself is not a place where tourists stay, these stores are for the locals. 

Did not expect to see an anime bike here. 

Waiting for transportation. 

The main mode of transportation in Taytay, where perhaps it is not populous enough for jeepneys. I even saw a boat being transported by tuk-tuk. 

All of the boats I saw in Taytay were trimarans. The water was often choppy; perhaps it provided balance?

Precariously perched.