Day1
The first day of our adventure actually started the night before at the bus terminal. The bus for Banaue left at close to midnight. Already we've had a long and hot day, and poor aw was sweating buckets! Don't blame him, it was only his 3rd day in the country. Even I was finding the weather stifling! We couldn't wait to get on the bus and settle down for the loooong trip (we had been duly forewarned.); we were looking forward to sleep off the jetlag that just wouldn't go away. Finally and thankfully, the bus was ready for us and we got seated comfortably to watch the city go by for some time before drifting off to dreamland. We were expecting to get to Banaue at 7am and we were looking forward to our first "stop."
From time to time I woke up and tried to get a glimpse of the road but it was too dark, and the AC inside the bus was making it hard to stay awake for long. At last, the sun rose and I pried my eyes open, hoping to catch glimpses of rice terraces along the way. I had read that the terraces were actually scattered around the province, and I was very excited to see them. aw woke up too and looked outside, amazed by the sun rising over lush, green mountains, and seeing for the first time, Philippine countryside. Smoke rising out of nipa huts, chickens and pigs in the yard, natives crouching by the doorway, still waking up...
From time to time I woke up and tried to get a glimpse of the road but it was too dark, and the AC inside the bus was making it hard to stay awake for long. At last, the sun rose and I pried my eyes open, hoping to catch glimpses of rice terraces along the way. I had read that the terraces were actually scattered around the province, and I was very excited to see them. aw woke up too and looked outside, amazed by the sun rising over lush, green mountains, and seeing for the first time, Philippine countryside. Smoke rising out of nipa huts, chickens and pigs in the yard, natives crouching by the doorway, still waking up...
At 6am, we pulled into a town and the bus conductor yelled, "Lagawe!!!" I had drifted back to a half-asleep state and thought he said "Banaue," and could not believe that we were an hour early! I jumped up and off the bus and yelled for aw to get off too. He was looking at me like I was out of my mind, and I got annoyed and frowned at him, willing him to come down before the bus started on its way again with me on the road and him on it. It never occured to me that the bus should not be going anywhere anymore if it was Banaue, our final destination! Aw was unsure as well, trusting me to know better, so he finally got off, although he was right to suspect that we were not in Banaue. God! That was the only bus going there that day, it was 6am and our eyes were gritty with lack of sleep, and the first jeepney to leave for Banaue was at 9am! (Banaue was the next town.) A tricycle driver offered to take us there for a whopping P200.00 - cheap by North American standards (only $4.00) but a rip-off in the PH! That man could already take the day off with what we paid him. Anyway, if you're stuck in some town at an ungodly hour, what can you do? So off we go. First glimpses of terraces were from inside the cramped trike, but the air was fresh and the sun was shining bright, why complain?
We went to an old but established lodging house and were greeted by a nice little old lady, who checked us in and told us where best to view the terraces from. Already, their restaurant/terrace provided a breathtaking view of the town nestled at the foot of some terraces. Breakfast was a heavenly experience, with the sun warming our cold, travel-sore bodies, and the sight before us rendering us speechless and in awe. We had native Benguet coffee (oh it smelled and tasted soo good) and Filipino breakfast fare. Aw had found a new favorite in the skinless longganisa, and the overnight trip had made us ravenous! All through the meal the sounds of the town starting its day reached us; church and school bells ringing, tricycles driving up and down main roads, schoolchildren walking up to school. We were also enjoying the restaurant which was decorated with an eclectic mix of native art, home crafts, children's art and a bizarre assortment of plants. It seemed like we had the whole place to ourselves, but the old lady/caretaker said a couple had checked in before us and were already away sightseeing.
We went to an old but established lodging house and were greeted by a nice little old lady, who checked us in and told us where best to view the terraces from. Already, their restaurant/terrace provided a breathtaking view of the town nestled at the foot of some terraces. Breakfast was a heavenly experience, with the sun warming our cold, travel-sore bodies, and the sight before us rendering us speechless and in awe. We had native Benguet coffee (oh it smelled and tasted soo good) and Filipino breakfast fare. Aw had found a new favorite in the skinless longganisa, and the overnight trip had made us ravenous! All through the meal the sounds of the town starting its day reached us; church and school bells ringing, tricycles driving up and down main roads, schoolchildren walking up to school. We were also enjoying the restaurant which was decorated with an eclectic mix of native art, home crafts, children's art and a bizarre assortment of plants. It seemed like we had the whole place to ourselves, but the old lady/caretaker said a couple had checked in before us and were already away sightseeing.Soon we each had a full stomach and raring to go see the famed rice terraces. A quick shower and we were off, once again cramped inside another trike but this time with higher spirits (what a good meal and a bath certainly does!) and a renewed sense of adventure. The morning booboo was forgotten.
The road to see the sights was not easy. Dirt roads carved on the side of the mountain made up for a pretty bumpy ride, and it was not as close by as we thought too! Still, when we got to the vantage points and our eyes had taken in the beauty of this part of the world, we cannot help
but be amazed. Rice terraces as far as the eyes can see. The guide said the ricefields were already brown because harvest season just finished, and that most tourists come when the fields are green. That's ok, we said. Our imagination is active enough to look at the beauty before us, and see it clad in green instead of brown. What made the scene more interesting were the small huts nestled in the crooks of the terraces, the occasional carabao grazing in a fallow piece of riceland, or a group of farmers already planting the first field. We went to two other viewing points, and I honestly felt that I could stand there and look at it and feel the wind on my face and be happy. It was a peaceful experience. The guide suggested going to one more barrio where we could spend the night and watch the sun rise on the terraces the next morning, but by then we were to bummed out and just wanted a warm bed and a long, restful sleep. We regretfully declined, and he started the long ride back to the inn where we enjoyed a simple lunch in the sunny terrace. Before long, the heat drove us up into the room and immediately, we plopped down onto the bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. When the sun went down and the air started getting cooler, Aw woke up and closed the windows. I too stirred a little, but was too tired to summon up the energy for dinner downstairs, so we both went back to bed and slept till dawn. When the cocks crowed, we sat up to watch the sun rise over our side of the terraces, and while not as glorious as they had described the one which we declined to visit, it was still a touching sight. It felt great to be rested and watching God perform His magic right before our eyes. But we were hungry.Day2
After a long but lukewarm shower and as soon as we heard the old lady moving downstairs, we packed and got ready to go. (Note: There was only one other person in the house, the lady cook.) We brought our packs down and settled in for a nice breakfast, but not before the caretaker scolded us for missing dinner. What can I say, in the provinces, service is very personalized.
Our next stop was close by, when you looked at it in the map. Vigan is in almost a straight line west of Banaue. But most everyone we had asked and the guide book that Aw bought before coming, had public transportation take us back down, down the whole of Northern Luzon THEN back up again along the western coast. We asked the caretaker if she knew an easier way to Vigan, does not matter if its by jeep or trike or horse (Aw thought I was being funny at this.) She said to take a jeep to some town and catch the bus from there. It sounded simple, and the town sounded like it was just around the corner. So we packed in more coffee and eggs and Filipino bacon and rice (yes, Aw eats rice!) and hopped on a jeep. Aw got a kick riding in the front, and the air was so fresh and we were full and well-rested that nothing could go wrong it seemed. I was wrong. After about an hour, the kind driver pulled over next to another jeep several towns away from Banaue, and told us to take it to Solano where we can catch the bus to Vigan. This time there was no front seat, we were cramped with boxes and sacks and tin cans of biscuit inside the jeep. The people were staring at Aw, probably wondering whether he was crazy to be taking the jeep, or simply in awe of the "whitey." Meanwhile, I was starting to get a sinking feeling that the day was just getting interesting. For the first time since we started the trip, I started regretting not getting a tour package that would have taken care of all details for us, so we could just lean back and enjoy the sights. Oh well. Like our Romanian friend always said, “What to do?”
Solano. A nice lady I was seated next to in the jeep showed us where to get off and wait for the bus. There was a Rotonda, as we call it in the Philippines, and we stood by a restaurant on the side and waited. I went to a pay-and-pee (pay P1.00 and you get to use their VERY basic bathroom, read: pee on a hole in the floor), and when I came back Aw had been told bluntly by the gentlemen hanging out in the neighborhood store that there were NO more buses at that time of day. It was a little after lunch. (On retrospection, I realized we were fools to rely on others for directions/instructions/suggestions. Each individual or group had their own idea where to go, what to take, and they insisted that they were right, of course.) While we stood there thinking of the next best thing to do, an ordinary bus came and the people around us were almost crazy screaming at us to get on it, like it’s the last bus on earth. Well, not exactly screaming, more like urging us, they probably won’t know what to do with us if we get stuck in their little town. I’m sure there were no hotels there. And knowing Filipinos, they’d be obliged to help complete strangers like us.
The conductor on the bus told us that they can take us only as far as Urdaneta City, and from there we can take a bus to Vigan. I was resigned to a day on the road already, but I still couldn’t help but groan inwardly. ANOTHER bus? We have barely gotten the seats on THIS bus warm and already another bus ride is waiting for us. Aaarggh!!! I made sure to ask if that other bus will take us, actually REALLY take us to Vigan. He said yes. That was some consolation.
I lost track of how long the ride was, but for the record, halfway along the ride we started sitting on one butt cheek at a time. It hurt too much to subject both cheeks to the torture. I was getting grumpy and cross that I didn’t get to enjoy the scenery as much.
The sun was starting to set when the bus pulled into Urdaneta City. As luck would have it, before we reached the city proper one tire blew. Everyone started getting off, and the conductor said we could wait for the bus right there on the street. Sure enough, buses headed for Laoag were plenty, and we immediately got on the first AC bus that came along. Ah. It was heaven, even if there was no such thing as leg room in that bus. However, my mood didn’t improve one bit. In fact, it just got worse and Aw finally had to ask me if I wanted to just get off at the next town and look for a hotel for the night, and return to Manila first thing in the morning. It sounded very nice but our whole day on the road would only have been wasted. So we sat back and watched as the sun finally set over South China Sea and the lights came on in the bus and in the towns we were passing through. The sunset drive along the coast was beautiful and breathtaking, but I was tired, hungry, and worried about Aw. To his credit though, he remained patient and cool and impossibly adventurous, despite my black mood. He enjoyed watching the towns go by and only wrinkled his nose in distaste when we passed a row of stalls selling dried fish (we could smell it even inside the AC bus!). Finally the moon rose and cast a golden glow over the rice fields and lit our path, and I gave up ever reaching Vigan. I thought any minute then we would come across a little Taiwanese village. At 9pm the welcome lights of Vigan came into view, and when we got off the bus, I finally gave in and vented my frustration, stamping my feet on the ground like a kid and snapping at Aw. He lost it too, and we went to a fast food place to grab some dinner in silence. Then we got on a trike and looked for the inn.
Our next stop was close by, when you looked at it in the map. Vigan is in almost a straight line west of Banaue. But most everyone we had asked and the guide book that Aw bought before coming, had public transportation take us back down, down the whole of Northern Luzon THEN back up again along the western coast. We asked the caretaker if she knew an easier way to Vigan, does not matter if its by jeep or trike or horse (Aw thought I was being funny at this.) She said to take a jeep to some town and catch the bus from there. It sounded simple, and the town sounded like it was just around the corner. So we packed in more coffee and eggs and Filipino bacon and rice (yes, Aw eats rice!) and hopped on a jeep. Aw got a kick riding in the front, and the air was so fresh and we were full and well-rested that nothing could go wrong it seemed. I was wrong. After about an hour, the kind driver pulled over next to another jeep several towns away from Banaue, and told us to take it to Solano where we can catch the bus to Vigan. This time there was no front seat, we were cramped with boxes and sacks and tin cans of biscuit inside the jeep. The people were staring at Aw, probably wondering whether he was crazy to be taking the jeep, or simply in awe of the "whitey." Meanwhile, I was starting to get a sinking feeling that the day was just getting interesting. For the first time since we started the trip, I started regretting not getting a tour package that would have taken care of all details for us, so we could just lean back and enjoy the sights. Oh well. Like our Romanian friend always said, “What to do?”
Solano. A nice lady I was seated next to in the jeep showed us where to get off and wait for the bus. There was a Rotonda, as we call it in the Philippines, and we stood by a restaurant on the side and waited. I went to a pay-and-pee (pay P1.00 and you get to use their VERY basic bathroom, read: pee on a hole in the floor), and when I came back Aw had been told bluntly by the gentlemen hanging out in the neighborhood store that there were NO more buses at that time of day. It was a little after lunch. (On retrospection, I realized we were fools to rely on others for directions/instructions/suggestions. Each individual or group had their own idea where to go, what to take, and they insisted that they were right, of course.) While we stood there thinking of the next best thing to do, an ordinary bus came and the people around us were almost crazy screaming at us to get on it, like it’s the last bus on earth. Well, not exactly screaming, more like urging us, they probably won’t know what to do with us if we get stuck in their little town. I’m sure there were no hotels there. And knowing Filipinos, they’d be obliged to help complete strangers like us.
The conductor on the bus told us that they can take us only as far as Urdaneta City, and from there we can take a bus to Vigan. I was resigned to a day on the road already, but I still couldn’t help but groan inwardly. ANOTHER bus? We have barely gotten the seats on THIS bus warm and already another bus ride is waiting for us. Aaarggh!!! I made sure to ask if that other bus will take us, actually REALLY take us to Vigan. He said yes. That was some consolation.
I lost track of how long the ride was, but for the record, halfway along the ride we started sitting on one butt cheek at a time. It hurt too much to subject both cheeks to the torture. I was getting grumpy and cross that I didn’t get to enjoy the scenery as much.
The sun was starting to set when the bus pulled into Urdaneta City. As luck would have it, before we reached the city proper one tire blew. Everyone started getting off, and the conductor said we could wait for the bus right there on the street. Sure enough, buses headed for Laoag were plenty, and we immediately got on the first AC bus that came along. Ah. It was heaven, even if there was no such thing as leg room in that bus. However, my mood didn’t improve one bit. In fact, it just got worse and Aw finally had to ask me if I wanted to just get off at the next town and look for a hotel for the night, and return to Manila first thing in the morning. It sounded very nice but our whole day on the road would only have been wasted. So we sat back and watched as the sun finally set over South China Sea and the lights came on in the bus and in the towns we were passing through. The sunset drive along the coast was beautiful and breathtaking, but I was tired, hungry, and worried about Aw. To his credit though, he remained patient and cool and impossibly adventurous, despite my black mood. He enjoyed watching the towns go by and only wrinkled his nose in distaste when we passed a row of stalls selling dried fish (we could smell it even inside the AC bus!). Finally the moon rose and cast a golden glow over the rice fields and lit our path, and I gave up ever reaching Vigan. I thought any minute then we would come across a little Taiwanese village. At 9pm the welcome lights of Vigan came into view, and when we got off the bus, I finally gave in and vented my frustration, stamping my feet on the ground like a kid and snapping at Aw. He lost it too, and we went to a fast food place to grab some dinner in silence. Then we got on a trike and looked for the inn.
It was an ancestral house converted into an inn, with a courtyard and a big, wide wooden staircase leading up into the second floor. The staff seemed surprised to see guests checking in late. We were finally led to a clean, newly-painted room that was very basic, and the bathroom was clean too. And even though the bed linen seemed threadbare (which is characteristic of Ilocos-made cloths), it was a struggle to still freshen up and not plop down on bed right away. Needless to say, as soon as our heads touched the pillows, it was off to dreamland.
Day 3
Waking up well-rested but hungry, we kissed and made up, showered and got ready to explore town. First stop, McDonald’s for a longganisa breakfast. Yum. From our well-chosen corner at the restaurant we could see the Cathedral and the city hall. It looked like it was gonna be a hot day. We finished breakfast quickly and went across the street to look at the Cathedral more closely. There was going to be a wedding and the party was waiting at the church doors for the bride. Aw wanted to watch a Filipino wedding, so we sneaked inside through the side doors and sat down. Soon, the wedding march began and I kept whispering to Aw, explaining wedding traditions. Guests were starting to look at us so I dragged Aw outside, and then we can also start our walking tour.
It was really hot, and soon Aw was sweating. We walked around the main tourist street, and I got a couple of nice Ilocos blankets (these were new and not so threadbare) from a souvenir shop.
The houses were really old but nice to look at. It felt like we were transported to another place and time, and half the time I expected to see a lady in a nice pia dress walk out of a doorway into the cobblestone street. Horse carriages were crowding us, offering a ride around town. I got on one of them but only had my picture taken, and I’m sure the driver wasn’t too pleased about that, even though I handed him a coin for the bother. Aw was busy taking pictures, while I was already planning the rest of our trip. Walking past the tourist section, we strolled into the busy city center, where I hailed a vendor selling small towels and got one for Aw, and finally into a bank to get some money. Then it was back into the cluster of restaurants across the Cathedral to relax and wait for lunchtime. We had some coffee and looked around some of the shops, and then ended up having lunch at the Chinese fast food. The sun was burning fiercely, and it was such an effort to walk back to the inn to gather our things and make our way to the bus terminal. The terminal was right next to the public market, and we stopped by some stalls to buy bottled water and chichacorn for presents. Aw experienced firsthand the smells, the sounds, and the sights of the typical Filipino wet market, while the surprised locals stared and whispered to each other. Across the dusty street in the terminal, there were dingy seats facing a small color television, and the travelers who were waiting for the bus to Manila sat in the heat watching a local noontime show. We sat down to wait as well, and Aw promptly fell in love with Laban o Bawi to my consternation. It was really hot and muggy, and it was such a relief when the bus finally pulled in and everybody scrambled up to get good seats.
Of course, when the bus conductor got around to us, he told us that we can go as far as Urdaneta and from there catch another bus going to Alaminos, our last stop. Bus-hopping, it seemed, was the whole point of our trip.
In Urdaneta, we got off and waited at the corner for the bus to Alaminos. It was already dark. We hailed the first bus that passed, got on and took our seats, only to find out that it was only going as far as Dagupan, and that we can try our luck there and see if there was still transportation to Alaminos. Oh sure. By now we’re getting used to news like these.
It was 9pm when we arrived in Dagupan. We asked a security guard at the bus terminal about information on getting to Alaminos that night, and he gave us two options – to hire a trike and travel in the dark for over an hour, or catch a jeepney to some town and then who knows. Both options were not very pleasant, so we decided to look for a place to stay for the night instead. The security guard called a trike driver over and said he knew the guy, and that he knows where the good hotels are and that he can take us there. The driver said there was a nice new hotel but I insisted on going to another one, the name of which I got from our trusty Lonely Planet guide book. The driver said it was expensive, and when we got closer and I finally saw the building, it did look expensive. So I conceded and let him bring us to his choice. This new hotel looked, well, new and decent, and I silently offered a thank you that we were not mugged and we were steps away from a nice hot shower and soft bed. My good mood was short-lived though, because then the driver asked for P50 for the trike ride! It made me really mad because I trusted that he was an honest guy out to make a living, and that he was really nice to us, and it turned out he was just planning to charge us like crazy!!! He reasoned out that he brought us to a nice and affordable hotel and that alone should earn him double, and he was disrespectful, like we were the ones one-upping him. I was fuming, and it took all my strength not to throw the P30 I had for him at his face. The hotel security was very apologetic. I turned my back on the trike driver and stormed into the hotel, muttering about hospitality and bad impressions. Aw did all the business with the hotel, I guess I scared the front office away with the scowl that refused to leave my face.
The room was cheap, considering it was a nice hotel. The paint was still fresh, the furnishings well-maintained and the bathroom clean and bright. The towels were a little worn, but if you pay P1, 000 for the kind of room it was and for only an overnight stay, it wasn’t worth to complain about. And it helps that we actually did not complain or stress anymore about the delay in our trip. It made for a relaxing night and a renewed sense of excitement for our last stop.
It was really hot, and soon Aw was sweating. We walked around the main tourist street, and I got a couple of nice Ilocos blankets (these were new and not so threadbare) from a souvenir shop.
The houses were really old but nice to look at. It felt like we were transported to another place and time, and half the time I expected to see a lady in a nice pia dress walk out of a doorway into the cobblestone street. Horse carriages were crowding us, offering a ride around town. I got on one of them but only had my picture taken, and I’m sure the driver wasn’t too pleased about that, even though I handed him a coin for the bother. Aw was busy taking pictures, while I was already planning the rest of our trip. Walking past the tourist section, we strolled into the busy city center, where I hailed a vendor selling small towels and got one for Aw, and finally into a bank to get some money. Then it was back into the cluster of restaurants across the Cathedral to relax and wait for lunchtime. We had some coffee and looked around some of the shops, and then ended up having lunch at the Chinese fast food. The sun was burning fiercely, and it was such an effort to walk back to the inn to gather our things and make our way to the bus terminal. The terminal was right next to the public market, and we stopped by some stalls to buy bottled water and chichacorn for presents. Aw experienced firsthand the smells, the sounds, and the sights of the typical Filipino wet market, while the surprised locals stared and whispered to each other. Across the dusty street in the terminal, there were dingy seats facing a small color television, and the travelers who were waiting for the bus to Manila sat in the heat watching a local noontime show. We sat down to wait as well, and Aw promptly fell in love with Laban o Bawi to my consternation. It was really hot and muggy, and it was such a relief when the bus finally pulled in and everybody scrambled up to get good seats.Of course, when the bus conductor got around to us, he told us that we can go as far as Urdaneta and from there catch another bus going to Alaminos, our last stop. Bus-hopping, it seemed, was the whole point of our trip.
In Urdaneta, we got off and waited at the corner for the bus to Alaminos. It was already dark. We hailed the first bus that passed, got on and took our seats, only to find out that it was only going as far as Dagupan, and that we can try our luck there and see if there was still transportation to Alaminos. Oh sure. By now we’re getting used to news like these.
It was 9pm when we arrived in Dagupan. We asked a security guard at the bus terminal about information on getting to Alaminos that night, and he gave us two options – to hire a trike and travel in the dark for over an hour, or catch a jeepney to some town and then who knows. Both options were not very pleasant, so we decided to look for a place to stay for the night instead. The security guard called a trike driver over and said he knew the guy, and that he knows where the good hotels are and that he can take us there. The driver said there was a nice new hotel but I insisted on going to another one, the name of which I got from our trusty Lonely Planet guide book. The driver said it was expensive, and when we got closer and I finally saw the building, it did look expensive. So I conceded and let him bring us to his choice. This new hotel looked, well, new and decent, and I silently offered a thank you that we were not mugged and we were steps away from a nice hot shower and soft bed. My good mood was short-lived though, because then the driver asked for P50 for the trike ride! It made me really mad because I trusted that he was an honest guy out to make a living, and that he was really nice to us, and it turned out he was just planning to charge us like crazy!!! He reasoned out that he brought us to a nice and affordable hotel and that alone should earn him double, and he was disrespectful, like we were the ones one-upping him. I was fuming, and it took all my strength not to throw the P30 I had for him at his face. The hotel security was very apologetic. I turned my back on the trike driver and stormed into the hotel, muttering about hospitality and bad impressions. Aw did all the business with the hotel, I guess I scared the front office away with the scowl that refused to leave my face.
The room was cheap, considering it was a nice hotel. The paint was still fresh, the furnishings well-maintained and the bathroom clean and bright. The towels were a little worn, but if you pay P1, 000 for the kind of room it was and for only an overnight stay, it wasn’t worth to complain about. And it helps that we actually did not complain or stress anymore about the delay in our trip. It made for a relaxing night and a renewed sense of excitement for our last stop.
Day 4
Every morning is a new beginning, and it seemed that every time we awoke, the events of the previous day/s were distant memories, and the day ahead was an experience to look forward to. We got up, watched some TV, and finally hunger drove us to shower and head down to the restaurant for a quiet and leisurely Filipino breakfast. We were the only patrons in the restaurant. We saw a bride come out of the hotel and hop into a car, and I explained to Aw how bridal parties book a hotel room to prepare for the wedding day. (Hmm hmm, why do we keep seeing brides/weddings? Surely these are signs! –smile- )
Then it was off to the city center where we found a van to Alaminos. The driver said he will take us to the hotel for a little extra, and we agreed. He tried chatting us up, but I was already wary of people being nice and friendly, plus I was paranoid and cautious by nature, so we just answered his questions with yes or no, and soon he just stopped and drove. We took some back roads that we wouldn’t have seen if we took a public bus, so we saw great expanses of fresh-water fisheries and rice fields. I just love driving into towns for the first time and looking at everything. When we reached Alaminos, the other passengers got off and then we were off to the hotel.
It was a huge disappointment. There wasn’t a soul to be seen except for a bunch of guys moving furniture around, it was dark and gloomy and the front office girl/manager/cashier was wearing a house dress. She said a government conference just finished, so they were just cleaning up. I said it was ok, and if she could arrange a boat for us to go to the Hundred Islands already. She did more than that, she had packed lunch prepared for us and was very accommodating, to the hotel’s credit. It seemed that all staff in the hotel was related to one another (the girl apparently lived in a room off the front office, from where her husband came out rocking a baby to sleep.) When we had done our business at the front desk, we excitedly went up to look for our room. We had to go through a restaurant and the hotel back yard, where the all-male staff was hanging out having a break, and I raised my eyebrow (secretly though) when I saw that they were only wearing t-shirts and shorts, and rudely staring at us when we passed them. The only uniformed staff it seemed was the security guard. At the back of the hotel there was a dimly-lit staircase leading up to the rooms, and the lobby at the second floor was a big mess. Used linen and mattresses were piled on the floor, more male staff was moving beds and closets and sofas, and all of them were shirtless. The lobby was also dark and I started getting paranoid, imagining dark hallways in horror films. The room was big and dark, although the bed was huge. The bathroom was the biggest disappointment of all. I was scared to touch the faucets and the toilet and the shower because it was old and worn-out and dirty and disgusting. Yuck. Never mind, just go and enjoy the beach we thought, and tomorrow we go back to Manila. It hit me that I could never truly backpack because I could not rough it out. We were already in a hotel and I still got the creeps from using strange beds and strange furniture and strange facilities.
We got ready to go to the islands. We hired a young man and his outrigger boat for an afternoon of island-hopping. Off we went with our suits, suntan lotion and lunch. The boat ride was uneventful. I’d ridden boats like these before, so I just sat back and enjoyed watching Aw instead. He was taking pictures of the islands as it came closer, and it was a wonder seeing these mounds rise up from the sea. The young man was trying to be a tour guide as well, telling us that there were e
xactly 123 islets scattered around the gulf but only three had been developed for tourist use. First stop was the Children’s Island where there was a shallow portion of the sea amidst two islets, hence, the best place for children. We paid a small fee to use one of the basic cottages so we can have lunch while the boatman hung around his boat with the other boatmen. Already there were several families on the beach and in the cottages on the side of the islet jutting out into the sea. There was a group of Korean tourists in a cottage down the path trying to start a barbecue while some of the girls with them went to test the water. We had fun lunching on sweet chicken bbq and rice and watching the Korean girls splash in the knee-deep waters wearing hats and long-sleeved shirts! After lunch we decided to go and visit another island. This one had more people, was bigger and actually had a restaurant and I’m sure the cottage I’d seen was fully-furnished and available for overnight stays. We spent the afternoon lazing around the beach. Actually, more like hanging around our boat which was moored close to the beach. The beach was very busy, and when we had the chance to claim a spot in a shady area, a huge family arrived in a big yacht and started stomping and splashing and ruining the ambiance! So we moved to the boat instead and alternately hung from the outrigger or sat on it. It was very relaxing to worry about nothing. Aw was having a beer and I was just feeling the waters around me (with occasional screams when seaweeds would tangle in my legs). Finally the sun was setting and the air was getting colder, so we decided to call it a day and head for home. I’m sure the boatman was hungry and hot too.Back at the hotel we showered and napped. It had been a really relaxing day, by far the most R&R we’d gotten since we started our trip. We ended the day by walking to a restaurant by the sea and dining on fresh seafood and cold beer. The breeze was refreshing, not cold, and we welcomed the chance to just sit and talk over beer. The moon was out and we could just see the silhouette of the islands from where we sat in the open restaurant. Then we walked back to the hotel and watched some TV and fell asleep, praying that the trip back to Manila would be easy and stress-free.
Day 5
This day is worth mentioning because not only we were happy to be going back to Manila, but we almost got caught jaywalking in the streets of Alaminos! First thing in the morning, we took a trike back to the city and grabbed breakfast from, where else, McDonald’s! When we were walking to the bus terminal, we walked right across a busy street and then heard the police yelling into his megaphone for us to get off the street. I didn’t know there was a police “hut” right in the middle of the crossing. Apparently, the punishment for first offenders was public humiliation. Good thing Aw obviously wasn’t a local, so they let it go, but of course, everyone had already seen AND heard about our “offense.” Anyway, we got to the bus terminal without another incident, and were lucky to get on a business class bus to Manila. Sweet. Plush, comfy seats, wide leg room, clean and classy. Needless to say, the trip back was smooth and just the right note to cap our North Luzon backpacking trip, which was a complete adventure.
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