Paquaio versus Mayweather versus My Hangover – who would win? – Day 105 – 3 May

Bit obvious really isn’t it!

Everyone else had awoken quite early (well Noontime) and set off to see the fight in the midst of Padre Burgos, mixing it with all the locals at a bar in the centre of town watching the fight.


Was this was why I was so loathsome to get out of bed – No it was the San Miguel

I, however, crawled out of bed somewhat worse for wear after everyone had vacated the place and watched with some locals of my own – well two anyhow, the hotel owner and the waitress. The television broadcast was a bit intermittent which took something away from the fight, namely continuity, but myself and most good-minded people thought that Paquaio had won – unfortunately the boxing judges did not agree and he lost – the poor Filipino people would be heartbroken! Maybe not though, the Filipinos seem a quite pragmatic people, with all that life throws at them in terms of rotten weather you would forgive them for thinking God had something against them, even forsaken them but after each disaster they merely shrug it off the best that they can, start rebuilding their homes and burying their dead and continue to pray in whatever is left of their churches – and that says a great deal about them really – a really admirable quality.


Padre Burgos – Fight time

Meanwhile back at Padre Burgos – Liz had had a great time watching the fight with the others. She told me that every time Paquaio threw a punch everyone at the bar was all cheering so the atmosphere there was brilliant. Cheering all the way until the very end of the fight which turned out to be an anti climax as the decision was a bad one and everyone at the bar soon cleared off. Liz and the rest of the All Hands crew came back to the hotel and we all discussed what a sham the fight had been. Then Sebastian, an All Hands guy who had been learning to Scuba dive, asked to borrow my snorkel, which he then managed to lose. Even now I have no idea how he did this but at the time I did have his promises and assurances that he would buy me a new one – somehow these words seemed just that little bit too hollow to me.


This was Padre Burgos when we left it honest!

It was time for us all to depart and the break had been most welcome even if myself and Liz had only been working at All Hands a short while it had sure felt much longer so the rest recharged our batteries a bit.


What is not to like even the shadows look inviting lol!

On the way back we all discussed the coming Monday day as it appeared there was a bit of a ‘race’ on to get some concrete footings (foundations) poured between two different factions of the camp. Now, as we understood it, this was something which had never been tried before but the team leaders seemed well up for it and the managers had agreed to it, so who were (plebs) we to argue about it. On the bumpy journey back we also saw a dog get hit by a motorbike (no idea how either turned out) and a large arena full of spectators – it seemed to be all men – and we were told that this was one of the cock fight pits on a ‘fight night’ (no cocks were hurt during these writings!). On the way back though Liz mainly slept as she was by now feeling quite poorly and others in the van seemed to be suffering as well – this did not at all bode well for the week ahead..


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