SPOILER: This post may describe in detail travels which you may want to go in the future. While it may provide some tips on how you fully enjoy a hassle-free trip, it can spoil the experience. But then again, every experience is unique – mine just happens to be written. Read at your own risk.
Despite my apprehension, I still packed my bags for a very long trip to the northern side of the country, further than I have gone before. As much as my colleagues constantly joked on the accidents we might as well go in our pursuit for adventure, I was pre-occupied with my retreat and I how I will go on with it…
Part I. Sagada
Apart from places like beaches and resorts, you may probably have heard of this place as a possible spot to go to during the Holy Week. In must be in the name which could almost spell Sagrada (meaning sacred) or maybe because of all the hiking you have to do here you’d almost think you’re on your way to the Cavalry.
Logic would tell me that the higher we are in the earth or above ground, the colder would it be. Wrong. The air blown in the countryside is cold but the weather can be hot with the sun closer than usual. Before heading off to Sagada in a rented van instead of the bus, our driver showed us around first in the strawberry farms of Baguio. After plucking a basketful of strawberries worth P300 as compared to the one ready made for only P80, swayed left and right in the van, stopped by several high points to take shots of the beautiful scenery, we finally arrived midday in Sagada, Mountain Province. We had checked in at Canaway Inn House and ate a late lunch at the Yogurt House.
We then proceeded to exploring the nearest site in town, the Mary Espotolich Church and pushed forward to Echo Valley where got our first sight of the hanging coffins from a distance.
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| Inside the Mary Espotolich Church |
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| the hanging caves from a distance. |
No screaming of Dao Ming Tsu!!! here or else you might disturb the spirits. Take care to make your slow descent in the hills. The fallen pine cone needles make the ground slippery.
We also passed by a cemetery of World War II soldiers, despite looking new with their white coat paints.
That night, we ate a local famous dish called pinikpikan at a restaurant of the same name wherein chicken meat is cooked after the chicken has been beaten to death (therefore the blood is not poured out of the body). This soup also included etag or beef meat preserved in salt.
We woke up late the next day because of exhaustion or because our alarm clock never woke us up. Nevertheless, after a hearty breakfast in the Pinikpikan restaurant, our rented van brought us miles away to the great rice terraces where the Bomod-ock falls was found in its heart. A graduation was being held at the school near the entrance of our walk. Our guide pointed out a very long, narrow and twisted path along the terraces – the path we were suppose to take. He adds that kids down the hill walk through the same path every school day. Monday to Friday? Rain or Shine?
Zipline, kids?
I have no qualms in walking. I love walking. It makes me think. But the only thing I can think of here is not stepping on wobbly stones, keeping my balance and keeping myself covered so not to turn into toast.
After hours of walking down the hills and terraces, the sound of water streaming along the stones and falling from great heights could be heard. Our pace became fast.
In one glance, the blue waters cooled the mind and the spirit. Though I dared not dip into the chilly waters this time (as an avid swimmer, I would willingly throw myself into a deep pool of water), I contented myself in taking shots of the natural scenery and candid moment of my colleagues playing in the water who reminded me of a certain Bikol folklore. =)
In one glance, the blue waters cooled the mind and the spirit. Though I dared not dip into the chilly waters this time (as an avid swimmer, I would willingly throw myself into a deep pool of water), I contented myself in taking shots of the natural scenery and candid moment of my colleagues playing in the water who reminded me of a certain Bikol folklore. =)
Within the hour of walking back, we had more photos, passed by a sacrificial carabao to be slaughtered for a wedding and visited a Day-pan where the harvest is blessed with hopes that the next harvest would also be fruitful. Women are not allowed to enter the day-pan.
Our van took us to town and we dined at the George Inn for another very late lunch.
Our earlier guide didn’t show up, so we sought two new guides for our visit to the caves in the south of town. Since the sight of towering pine trees and terraces were breathtaking and we couldn’t resist taking pictures, our guide got a bit short-tempered.
First cave stop was in Lumiang cave. We descended deep into the woods and into the caves. With his lamp raised, patched jeans and an air of pride, one of our new guides asked us to come closer and told the story of the hanging caves. According to him, the practice was done long before the Spaniards came. The small shaped ones indicated its ancestral origins in which old folks then believed that if we came into this world in the fetal position we were born in, then we should die and go back in the same manner. The rectangular shaped coffins revealed later influences of the coffins we use today.
Just like the small houses in Bomod-ock falls which housed the rice harvests, the coffins, nails and ropes are made of wood. It also appears that the coffins too have been rearranged.
We walked a few more miles going to Sumaging cave. We had trouble deciding whether we should bring our bags or not or where we can leave them (I suggest that you bring no bags, but if you must, bring something lightweight, would sit at your back and waterproof).
Our guide oriented of the three stages inside the cave. He gave us the following guides:
- Free your hands
- White shiny marble stones are slippery
- When its steep, you can always sit
- Don’t step into anything you can’t see, ask for light
- You will get wet
- You will have to remove your shoes later
- Widen you imagination
I was a bit confused with what he meant about widening one’s imagination and keeping one’s mind open. I thought we might see ghosts thus we shouldn’t freak out or lest we fall down. After this chilling sort of warning, we were all quiet, almost wondering whether we’ll be able to get out alive or not.
So we began our descent to darkness, our breaths the only sound that can be heard, grasping whatever stone there is within reach. A few minutes later, our attention shifted to the smell of the rock slime in our hands.
Somewhere, the bats squeeled. Eww.
I’d rather hold on to dear life, though.
Twisting further and deeper into the cave, our tour guide watched over our single file. Aside from the light, they had to make themselves into human bridges. I had to console myself with the idea that the foreigners before us were a lot bigger than me as I stepped into their joint hands. At least the atmosphere of strangeness was broken with the occasional joke among our company. “Stage two na ba ito, kuya?”
“Stage 2” was colder with water running on our sides, though the place was brightened by the orange stalactite from the ceiling and the stalagmite rising from the floor. This is actually where our imagination must run wild; we passed a “pig pen” formed in one corner and left our slippers as we crossed a stream of water. We also passed by pools of water as we crossed barefoot this time. Compared to the white stones, these orange rocks we stepped into were quite rough and not slippery. Soon, we entered “the palace” with our guide pointing out whose the queen, king and princess along the way. The place was said to be a hideout of WWII soldiers hiding from the Japanese…I guess they had to entertain themselves for the meantime thus they came up with some vivid images of what the stones were, interpretations which could meet Freud’ s approval.
Stage 3. Anyone who wishes to go this far must leave everything behind, at least literally. I kept asking what we could expect when they asked our little group who would be willing to go. I was imagining the worst. They were talking about ropes, cliffs, ponds that I wanted to see for myself before I decide to go on or back out. Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be, but bad enough to me doubt my adventure-seeking capacity. There were no safety gears, just ropes, the guides and the cold pool to fall into. Ahead of me was a foreign woman nervously walking in the walls, with her hands trodding her forward. My boss let me go first; I was a bit pressured not to scare my companions next to me so I clutched at the rocks then at the ropes. I had to believe I could do it, that I was not going to fall, that I could balance myself and stay relaxed and become Spider-man. After a few minutes of full concentration and determination in walking sideways in the wall, I stepped into a pool going down and I did it! I descened into cool water that went up to my knees - I did it!
Ahead of us, the cave was darker than ever. As soon as my companions arrived, we moved forward until the water rose to our waist, crawled into a small hole into a smaller cave which gave us a closer look at the rock formations in the walls, ceilings and floors, burying our feet in the sand. We grouched into smaller holes, turned back when we climbed into the wrong hole, went in several more small caves until at last the pools of water we saw earlier were on our side! We were back where we came from! We could finally stand up and see the beautifully formed walls. I almost breathed a sigh of relief until I saw another rope and another obstacle I had to climb up to get back.
Can I just swim in the cold water? I did not reach the top of Sakat Kadlagan Wall climbing back in Naga…
It was a short distance anyway and even without the harness, I held on to the knots in the rope, planted my feet on the wall and walked right up.
That was the best adventure so far.
It was night time when we came up and out of the cave. Exhausted but nevertheless happy despite the dirt and difficulty.
The Lemon Pie House
After cleaning ourselves up, we headed towards this interesting snack house we spotted the other day. Owned by Ate Loida, the atmosphere and interior of the place is as cozy and homely as its bright yellow paint outside. The place is also chic with its low wooden chairs and tables. Rugs and pillows are also laid out for those who want more intimate feel of belongingness as one can bask under the yellow lights. It is a place worthy enough to be a backdrop when secrets are revealed and thus shared with friends. But of course we didn’t come here to chat – we came here for the food! The specialty here is no other than the Lemon Pie itself, though they offer other delectable food like the breakfast meal consisting of omelet, longganisa and cherry tomato.
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| The Lemon Pie House |
We went here the other afternoon for some pie and lemon tea. While waiting for the food to be prepared, there’s the old fashioned sunka with purple beans instead of shells as ‘beads” that you can play with and keep you entertained. My friends had to teach me again how to play it since the last time I played with it was as a child and in the cellphone.
The lemon pie and lemon tea itself is interesting. I’m not a expert food critic but here’s my take: The orange soft bottom layer was soft and the mousse like layer above was creamy, slighty bubbly. The orange syrup leaked at the top, like golden droplets that seeped up and above the thin crust. The lemon tea was honey sweet – its thick syrup made it slightly more bodied and bright gold as compared to you average lemonade. Not too sweet for sweet-conscious me.
You can also request for breakfast despite the late hour, like we did that night. Another specialty is their omelet, which has a creamy texture inside probably battered with cheese and sprinkled with a dash of green celery. The longganisa was made of meats; the mixed rice also had green (celery?) stalks in it. The garnish of tomato cherry and slightly bitter lettuce is perfectly edible and in contrast to each other. Yum.
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| Special omelet from the Lemon Pie House (photo courtesy of H. Pelonio) |
You have to taste this.
Kiltepan: Where's the Sun????
Despite aching legs and arms, we woke up very very early the following day to witness the sun rise in Kiltepan view. Unlocked from our inn and without a guide, we trodded our way to the spot, blinded by the night and the mist before us. With a few flashlights, Kuya Francis’ Sagada Map, we walked for hours in the cemented path which eventually became a rocky one as we progressed. There were a few cars who passed us by, including a lone brave jogger whom we asked for directions. A little later when the sky was already turning blue, we arrived at this place.
It was past six and it was still foggy – an indication that the sun wasn’t going to show up anytime soon. We had to be back, pack and be gone by 10am that day so we went back. Our consolations were these great pictures and getting the feel like we were in the movie set of Twilight.
We also caught a rehearsal of a tribal ritual from afar while waiting for the bus.
Unforgetablle as it is, Sagada, Mountain Province!
Last Note: I read on the net later on that the old local movie on unconventional love story Kung Mangarap ka’t Magising (Starring Mike de Leon and Hilda Koronel) was filmed in Sagada and Baguio. Now that’s something to watch. ;)
III. Baguio
Magic began the moment I arrived. Climbing up the hills and seeing the blue and yellow lights dotted in the city of Baguio jotted me awake inside the taxi when we dropped off our luggage in Mirador before proceeding to Sagada. But now I was back.
A s a habit to familiarize myself with Mirador, I walked in and out of the gardens and buildings trying to identify spots I could squeeze myself into and have those precious moments with Him. It turns out that in each passing day, there were some spots I missed, a few tracks to discover and couple of places I could just sit down and stare at the city below. The place was so wide, filled with flowers and the paths twisted and turned I thought I was lost in my own mind.
I had been hoping for a sign, something that would tell me outright what I should do. Instead, I met a very different response this time and this song just keeps on playing in my mind.
I suppose this means I have to wait yet again and let things unravel itsef on its own. From there, I’d be able to tell.
Down the Session Road
Silence was broken after the Mass and the people was raving about the homily with some of the retreatants joking around, asking whether they’ll stay in Ateneo or not, taking a good picture with God or if looking for their soulmate a.k.a. Chester. Those who ordered Baguio longganisa also got their orders. It was such an icebreaker when it was announced after a mass.
That night, we went down the hill to visit the famous night market near Burnham park. I had to drop by SM to withdraw and there I saw my SD again. We also walked along the crowded Session Road where we checked out the ukay-ukay and some street merchandise along the way.
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| the Night Market |
I even spotted purple nike shoes worth 1,000 and a Guess bag for 680. There were plenty of clothes, jackets and shoes, goods needed for a cold place like Baguio. One may have difficulty selecting properly here given the yellow lights in the court; I was also counting on our trip to the market at Centro which supposedly offered goods at a much cheaper price. Nevertheless, it was nice walking in the city at night.
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| Baguio City at Night |
We had our own itinerary to speak of the next day, since we acknowledged that we only got a day to explore the sights and sounds of the place. Our first stop was at the Philippine Military Academy.
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| Goofing around at PMA |
In the famous Good Sheperd store where I was compelled to buy not just one but two ube jams despite my meager savings. They actually just cost P140 per bottle. Don’t miss buying one when you’re in Baguio. I’m serious.  |
| The Dandelions out for adventure! |
We also went to Miner’s view. Lots of shops and photo ops with eccentric looking horses and huge dogs and Igorots. And this banana ice cream stick is what I bothered to post here. Hahaha!
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| Our Pink Sister |
We also went to the Convent of the Pink Sisters where I earnestly wrote my petitions. I know know that I just need to believe. Now that I come to think of it, I hope God doesn’t take my prayers too literally.
As for other places, we simply passed by the Teacher’s camp and the botanical garden.
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| AT THE MARKET: Overspending happening here |
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| BEFORE DEPARTURE: View of the sunset in SM Baguio |
Tip: Check what you buy. Those 6-in-one offers can be tempting but in return you might be getting old stock
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IV.Manila, Manila, Manila
Though I’ve been living in Bicol for the past years, I try to keep myself sane and un-bored by going back to Manila whenever time and opportunity permits (at least once a year). So while my friends boarded off the bus in Cubao Terminal, I stayed behind in the bus going to Pasay terminal, where I waited for two more hours for my family to pick me up. Instead of driving to Cavite where an uncle lives, we headed to Taguig City where an aunt of ours came home for a few weeks. I dozed off upon arrival right after taking a shot of this:
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| Welcome back! |
A. BGC
Come to think about it, the City of Taguig is a fairly new city making the waves across the country with all the concerts of international and local talent it has hosted in the recent years. I won’t be surprised if it turned out to be the next business center as well as the center of arts with all the buildings and condominiums on the rise and an Arts in the City built in the city. Maybe it would be like Makati meets Cubao X minus the Filipino flavor! Or maybe Filipino World class flavor (After all, they called the place Bonifacio GLOBAL City, they may have wanted to go a bit more international). Just a wild and idiotic guess.
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| this is not in BGC, though. but art spoken. =) |
B. Binondo Girls (and one boy)
The following day, we decided to shop at Divisoria where some house items were considered vast and more importantly, cheap. With four females and one male cousin, we headed towards Roxas Boulevard Macapagal Avenue past CCP, Hyatt Hotel, Manila Museum and Binondo Church (where the Statue of Sto. Nino is housed and was once stolen, resulting to a great flood in Manila – according to the stories).
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| Along McKinley Road |
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| A street shop in Binondo |
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| Rizal will turn 150 this year |
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| No Manila sunset in sight |
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| A festival near CCP |
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| Para kay Baby Bentong |
Trivia: The Escolta in Binondo was like the Makati of yesterday. The Emporium there was also the first mall with an escalator. Sounds a bit like Greenhills – shopping center noon, tiangge na ngayon.
Tip: Wear nothing but a small bag, hide your wallets well and don’t flash your gadgets here. In fact just don’t bring them with you. Don’t even leave equipments visible inside a car. Kuha mo?
C. Ang Dampa
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