Like a lot of good stories it all began after a night of indulgence, this time on the local 'Tanduay Rum' (which was only 75p a litre by the way, aaaaalright!) on the touristy island of Borocay. Not long after staggering back to my cottage in the dark, I was enthusiastically introduced to the dawning of another bright, hot and sticky day by one of the many cockerels in the garden outside. This of course was repeated by several of the other roosters in the vicinity, in a manner reminiscent of when rappers imitate each other's violent declarations (e.g. 'Your rhyme style's whack, gonna bust ya with my gatt!' - 'Yo your rhyme style's whack, gonna bust ya with my gatt!'). 'Cock-a-doodle-doo yourself you bastard' I groaned to myself, upon noticing that it was 5am, only 2 hours since my head had hit the pillow. Dripping with sweat and dazed by hangover, I made a vague pledge to myself to give the rooster a good kick when I was feeling up to it again, and clenched the pillow to my ears.

That afternoon, having not forgotten my vow, I had a chat with the owner of the place where I was staying. It turned out that there was a cockfight going on today, and that perhaps I could please go there instead of going on about what I was going to do to his cocks. So off I toddled, camera in hand, to check out the party and maybe win a few pesos in the process. I was greeted by about 30 blokes all sitting in a circle holding their cocks (if there was a way of getting this cock joke into the first paragraph then believe that it would be there already, it was painful having to hold back this long!). This seemed to be their equivalent to the pre-race parades you get at the dogs or the horses in this country, though to an untrained eye like mine they all look exactly the same - like little evil bastards. Filipinos don't like to mess about, and soon everyone was in the 'arena' - basically like a boxing ring surrounded by high and very unstable wooded planks for the audience, and a bamboo roof. If any of you want to be health and safety officers, then don't go to Asia - you will mess your pants.

Now I must admit my first ever cockfight was a truly shocking experience, and it took me a good ten minutes to snap out of a daze afterwards. First, the cocks are brought into the ring by their owners and paraded around a bit. As this starts to get dull, suddenly another cock is brought into the arena, the sole purpose of this one being to wind up and aggravate the other cocks. It is allowed to bellow a few 'cock-a-doodle doos' in their faces while getting a few free bites of fighting cock arse (This one is the rooster equivalent to that flatmate of yours who never bothers to flush the toilet, who nicks food out of your cupboard and then has the audacity to leave you the washing up). Meanwhile, the bookies in the audience begin shouting out prices until they reach a point agreeable to the punters that make up the crowd, at which point the whole place becomes a crescendo of noise and excitement. It is at that moment that the cocks are released and allowed to roar towards each other, banging into each other for about twenty seconds until one spurts blood and keels over to a twitching death on the sandy floor. Both the victorious and the dead cocks are then taken away to have the sharp blades untied from their knees, the audience collect their winnings, and a geezer enters the ring with a brush to sweep away the blood and feathers - all while the little Johnny Foreigners in the crowd gape on open jawed.

I'd love to say that I am now a big fan of cockfighting, with a dodgy satellite receiver to get all the live fights from Manila, and my very own rooster stud farm in my wardrobe. However I have to say that after three or four fights it got really rather dull, and the more I watched the more brutal and sickening it became to me. That said though, I heard that sometimes they have mini 'battle royal' matches where they get three to fight at once, that sounds pretty cool. It got me thinking about Rupert Murdoch style ways of jazzing the sport up and making it more entertaining. You could have a 'cock-a-doodle-doo-o-meter' for measuring vocal strength, ten in the ring 'royal rumbles', celebrity appearances (Big Bird from Sesame Street?), tag team events, sensational outfits (the ninja, the soldier, and the biker dude who everyone thinks is secretly gay), backstage footage, and post match interviews. Yeah and you could give them a choice of weapons (possibly including poison gas, bow & arrow, peashooter, suit of armour, and mini-rocket launcher) before the fight! Hey I'm onto something here! Anyone got the number of the SKY network...?