The Journeys, Not the Destinations

I don’t know about you but when I was a kid and we would go on a school trip, what I always looked forward to the most were the bus rides that field trips involved. Because seriously, when you’re 7 years old, I doubt that you’re genuinely interested to know how pencils are made, or how a girl falls in love with a nutcracker. When I was 7, I was more interested in eating snacks and talking about our favorite parts in the latest episode of Captain Planet. Hence, I was more excited about chattering with my friends in the bus than having to line up with everyone else and keeping quiet and not being allowed to touch anything in some museum.

Fast forward to several years later, and by this time, I’ve already developed a love for travel. Of course, I look forward to seeing all the destinations that my friends and I plan to go to. Someone told me that beaches look the same everywhere, but I’ve found that all the beaches I’ve been to in my life (and I’ve been to a lot, considering I live in an archipelago), always have something different about them, whether it’s the view of the sunset, or the color of the sand, or even the people that you’d meet while you’re there. Still, though I’ve also gotten interested in the destinations, the kid in me, has never lost interest in the bus rides, or any kind of transportation, really. Although I’m always in a car or a jeepney or a bus every day (going to the office and going back home), and even though I’ve ridden on an airplane several times, I still enjoy the part of the trip where you’re just on your way to get to where you want to go.

Just these past few days I experienced a couple of road trips as I went to several places, all by land (or, okay, I rode a raft and a boat, too), and with friends both old and new.

Lost in Laguna

I don’t blame my co-worker for getting the names of the lakes confused and asking for directions to the wrong lake. San Pablo Laguna is after all, “The City of Seven Lakes” and with seven lakes in just one city, it’s understandable to get the wrong directions, and end up in the wrong lake. Plus there’s something good about getting lost once in a while — you find out something people don’t normally know, and you experience something new and different.

Pandin Lake, San Pablo Laguna

We had to follow a tricycle just to get to Pandin Lake because no one would give us directions clear enough to follow. And we had to pay the tricycle too (Boo to people who want to make profit from the misfortune of others). But I guess it was better than going around in circles and not getting any nearer our destination. Eventually we found out that the reason that the lake was so hard to find was because it was within one of the smaller districts of the city, where only a few houses were around, and there were hardly any road signs.

This is probably a good time to write a rant about how the tourism industry of the Philippines is so poor in the sense that there are no signs to get to anywhere and even the roads are confusing as to whether they are actual roads or sidewalks or just paths made by people who frequently walked in that area. But I’m not going to do that because I want to keep this as positive as possible. Besides, when we got to the lake, it was all worth it. The raft ride around the lake was reminiscent of the Loboc River tour in Bohol (only with buko juice instead of buffet lunch), but also a bit different because it was more peaceful. We were the only ones there and the view was amazing.

Eventually we met someone who was from around the area and he said to us that getting lost was a part of the San Pablo Laguna experience. So it’s all good. That makes our journey complete.

Public Transport in the Province

Last Monday, I went to Morong in Bataan with some new friends. Actually, it was an old friend’s summer outing with officemates and I tagged along. Mostly because I’d never been to Morong before, and wanted to see what the beaches were like there. The sand was black, but I’m not very particular about sand color anyway. I’d rather have black sand on a clean beach than white sand on a polluted beach. The place we went to was, somewhere in between clean and polluted. But like I said, I’m not writing this to complain. And the beach isn’t even what I want to write about. I want to write about what happened when my friend and I left the beach and took the public transportation in the province to get to Olongapo.

My friend had to meet with someone in Olongapo, so we left the beach for a while and took a tricycle to the jeepney station, which wasn’t really a station because there was only one jeepney there, and guess what, it had a door. Right, so jeepneys usually made with doors. But you don’t find those in Manila. The only jeepneys with doors are the ones privately owned. So this one was different– it was a public jeepney, and it had a door. And here’s something else it had that Manila jeepneys don’t have– it had a conductor. Seriously, there was a man there, who wasn’t the driver, who collected payment from the passengers, and he folded bills and inserted them in between his fingers too the way a bus conductor does.

On our way to Olongapo, there were only a few of us. Maybe 4 or 5 people at a time, which was perfect, because no one was blocking the windows, and I could really enjoy the view. I’ve been to mountains before and have seen forests and cliffs and seashores from moving vehicles, but what I liked about it this time, was because I was on a jeepney, then the windows weren’t closed and there was no artificial airconditioning. I could smell the grass of the fields and feel the wind in my hair.

When we got off the jeepney, we walked to a local grocery to buy some more snacks. I think I mentioned it before, but I really love walking in provincial towns. It’s just because it’s so different from the towns in Metro Manila — there are less people, less garbage, and everything is just naturally slower. So sometimes it’s annoying because when you’re in a hurry it’s not helpful when the people around you are moving so slowly, but when you’re on vacation, and time doesn’t matter all that much, it feels really wonderful to just walk around town, taking in everything that you hear and see.

Going back to the beach, we had to take a jeepney again, and this time, it was at a real terminal, and the jeepney was full. It was actually even overloaded because there were some people (two) who had to sit on the floor (you’d think I’m kidding, but I’m really not). There was a conductor again and after giving him our payment, we were off. If only the jeepney wasn’t so crowded, I think I would’ve enjoyed the ride back even more. Why? Because it was 5:30 PM when we were on our way back, and just in time for sunset.

It took some effort for me to angle my head in such a way that I could look out the window and to the rice fields outside, but it was all worth it, despite the neck pain, and the awkward position of my legs. I got to watch the sun set over a rice field. I’ve seen many sunsets in my life, but most of them are when I’m on the beach, so this wasn’t a usual sight for me. I’d thought that the way the light would touch parts of the ocean was beautiful, but this was beautiful as well — the light would touch the water on the plants, making the entire field glow. And the nipa huts have more color, and the stars would slowly peek out from the purplish pink sky.

When we arrived back at the beach I realized that I wasn’t able to take pictures of our side trip. But I think that means that I was able to enjoy the moments to their fullest.

Road Between the Rice Fields

Farmer and Carabao in Nueva Ecija

Before going back to Manila, we took another side trip, this time to Nueva Ecija, where one of us would be spending the rest of the week. She invited the group over for lunch at her parent’s house, although when we got there it was already around 4PM so we I guess we had merienda instead. But the food was so good, I don’t think anyone minded that the trip took so long. And also, the road trip, again, was a really good experience, in my opinion.

Further and further from civilization we went as the van went off-road a couple of times and there was nothing around us but rice fields and farmers. Honestly, it felt like traveling inside a post card. There were mountains, there were carabaos, there were kids running around with mud on their feet. At one point I wanted to just leave the van and walk the rest of the way so the view, no the atmosphere, wouldn’t be fleeting by so quickly. But of course I couldn’t, given that we were already running late, and it was several hours more to get back to Manila.

Despite everything bad that’s being said about our country (and I know that we deserve some of those negative comments), I can’t help but still love it a lot. So maybe we have our problems and the economy sucks and the government is corrupt and whatever, but when I see places like the ones I just saw, it’s hard not to say that I think that I live in a beautiful country.

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So maybe the places I went to — San Pablo, Laguna and Morong, Bataan, have their share of difficulties. But I can say that I enjoyed both trips immensely. If not for the destinations that have redeeming points like the delicious food and great views, then definitely for the fun and interesting road trips that they involved.

* The Pandin Lake Tour is Php180 per person. Includes raft ride and fresh buko. Arrangements are made through Mandy Mariño at this number: 0917-5016694

I Belong to the Zoo

For my birthday this year, I went to visit my sister who lives in Wellington, New Zealand. Actually, that’s just an excuse. I wanted to visit her before Christmas, and my birthday was the only occasion we could think of. So I went there, and we did lots of stuff– visit Auckland, Lord of the Rings tour, but for my birthday itself, because she had work, she suggested I go to the zoo. There’s not many attractions in Wellington, after all, and especially if you’re already going on the Lord of the Rings tour, there wouldn’t be a lot left. So I followed her suggestion and went to the zoo last September 17th of this year. (Notice how I subtly let you know that that’s my birthday? )

Before going, I stopped by a convenient store to buy a bottle of water and a big cookie. My sister had already left for work, and I’m not crazy about doing the dishes so that was my breakfast (and lunch, actually) for that day. I left my sister’s apartment around 12 noon, stood at the bus stop for a few minutes and was at the zoo by 12:30PM.

The bus cost me 5NZD, and it was already roundtrip. I found out later on that that’s actually a bus Day Pass in Wellington. You can ride the bus unlimited times for the day for 5NZD. Isn’t that cool? Anyway, if I hadn’t gotten the day pass, the ticket would’ve cost me 3.5NZD per trip.

Newtown is one of those small towns on the outskirts of the Central Business District of Wellington. One of the tour guides I encountered said that houses in that area were cheap, and so was the rent, so its population was mostly young married couples. The neighborhood looked nice.

Entrance to the zoo was 15NZD. It comes with a map and a schedule of the talks/feeding times of the animals. I felt bad because I missed the talk about the tiger (that happened 12nn), but I made it just in time for the talk about the sun bears. OK no, I actually had to run a somewhat uphill path to get to the sun bears in time, but it was all worth it.

The sun bear is apparently the smallest bear in the world, the tallest grows only up to 5 feet. And it can climb trees, and has a long tongue because it eats insects and plants, unlike “meat eating” bears. They’re pretty cute, too. They have a yellow ring on their chests, which is why they’re called sun bears.

Anyway, I’m not going to talk about all the animals I saw. You can just research about animals on the internet anyway, but the zoo was nice because it was very natural, in the sense that the animals don’t look like they’re caged. Some of them only have low fences to keep them from going towards people. And I found out something else from looking at the “Old Elephant House”.

I know that name’s misleading. You don’t actually see an old elephant in there, but instead some bats and a few species of reptiles. But it’s called that way because apparently, back in the day (the 1960’s, I think), Wellington Zoo became famous for having an elephant in it. There was a parade and everything when they brought in the elephant to the city, and lots of people went to the zoo to see it. When it died, the zoo administration talked about getting another one. However, by that time, the concept of the “zoo” was more about preserving animals, and not anymore just for people to see exotic stuff (because animals have rights now). And because elephants survive longer when they’re in a group, and the Wellington Zoo couldn’t afford to keep a group of elephants, they decided not to put elephants in the zoo anymore. Still, because of its reputation, they kept the old elephant house.

It was just beside the kiosk, which sold food, but I didn’t look anymore at how much the food was. I already had my cookie.

I stopped by the picnic area to eat it. And because it was winter, and a weekday, there wasn’t anybody at all in the picnic area. I was alone. So I ate my cookie alone. And the whole time I was eating it, only about three or four people passed by. One of them was a zookeeper, so there were actually only two other tourists that passed by. I guess the place is busier in the summer.

Actually, during all the talks that I attended (sun bear, giraffe, pelican, kiwi), there were less than 10 of us who showed up. Definitely not their peak season. And I guess it’s not exactly one of those “must see” place in Wellington. Still, I like animals the appropriate amount and didn’t regret that I went.

I left around 5PM. I wanted to buy a penguin from the souvenir shop, but remembered that there weren’t even any penguins on display in the zoo, so that was pretty pointless. Plus, I didn’t have enough money. So I just went out, and waited for the bus, which wouldn’t come until another 20 minutes.

The Newtown Park was just beside the zoo and I got to see a part of it. I wasn’t able to go too far, but I think it’s like Central Park in New York. There were a few joggers that passed by, and some people walking their dogs, and some kids in the playground. Across the zoo was a convenient store, and I spent some time in there, too. It was mostly to get inside somewhere, because the wind was really strong and it was really cold. And the jacket I brought was, well, let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for that kind of weather.

The bus finally came after several gusts of wind and another cookie (I bought in the convenient store across the zoo). I got off at the middle of Lambton Quay where my sister said we should meet.

On the way back, I told her about all the animals I saw and she asked me, “Did the animals perform?”

I realized then that what I read from the Old Elephant House was right. We did used to think that the zoo was where you could see animals do stunts and stuff. It’s strange how this change happened in the world, and I didn’t even notice it. Then again, I haven’t been to a zoo since I was a kid, so I guess it was just right that I went to one this year. Though I think what makes it most memorable was because I went there alone. I’ve never gone anywhere alone, not really. And it was certainly a different experience. The area around the zoo, and even in the zoo itself was very quiet. At times it was even creepy. Or peaceful. I still haven’t decided yet.

For more pictures, see my Multiply: I Belong to the Zoo
I made a video, too: Wellington Zoo, 17-Sept-08

Y’alla Ayala

It’s inevitable. When you spend a few days in another country (or any other place that has a different language/dialect), you get used to hearing another language being spoken. At first it’s real annoying since you can’t understand anything everybody says, but after a while, you pick up a few words yourself, and at least in my case, I get interested enough to learn more and more words in that language. I am far from a language expert, I can only speak two languages fluently (and those are the very boring English and Filipino, which are both languages spoken in my country anyway), but I’d definitely learn another language if the opportunity arose.

My Mom and I spent a good 8 days in Egypt (or was it 9 days? I really can’t remember), and during that time, although the tour guides we spoke to and the friends we were with all spoke English (and Filipino), we still heard a lot of Egyptian Arabic being spoken around us. One such word that kept being said was “Y’alla”, which according to our tour guide meant “Let’s Go” in Egyptian. It’s usually said many times continuously, so as to make it sound more urgent, i.e. “Y’alla Y’alla!”.

A lot of people said it, tour guides mostly (and there were a LOT of tour guides scattered around), for obvious reasons. It’s probably one of the words that most tourists understand, and there’s even a travel agency there called “Y’alla Tours”. I saw that name painted on a van.

Anyway, while we were there, it was almost automatic for us to move whenever we heard it. It was quite fun, really. And it’s the only Egyptian word I really remembered. I got so used to it that the day after we got back to the Philippines and I took the bus to go to work, when it stopped at the station I was supposed to get off at, and the bus driver announced the station, I thought I heard it again.

“Y’alla! Y’alla!”

I turned my head sharply to look at the person who said it, expecting to see someone in a turban and a long-sleeved shirt, thinking for a moment that I was still in Egypt and the people around me were speaking Egyptian. But it turned out to be a very Filipino-looking bus driver in a white polo barong and black slacks. And I realized that what he said was not Egyptian, but in fact the name of the place we had stopped at:

“Ayala! Ayala!”

I laughed at myself as I got off the bus and was laughing the whole time (I know I probably looked crazy to the other people around) I walked to the next place that had another bus to take me to my workplace (yes, sadly, the Philippines is still full of buses and not enough trains). How funny language is.

Taking Life As It Comes

I’m sure we’ve all experienced things not going according to plan, especially in traveling. Flights get delayed, bagagges lost, emergencies come up, and a lot of other things can happen that can upset us whenever we’re traveling. Sometimes, even the smallest things can ruin an entire day’s itinerary– malfunctioning coffee maker, broken water heater, etc. When these things happen to me, the usual result is that one of the spots we’re supposed to go to gets cancelled. Or maybe we’ll go to a nearer, less interesting place instead. This has always upset me and made me feel bitter about not seeing something I’ve always wanted to see. Although, my recent trip to Japan has made me reconsider my opinion on these little mishaps that happen. Aren’t the unexpected events the things that make life interesting, after all?

The plan was to see Tokyo City from the top of the Metropolitan Bldg. It’s a government building so going to the top is free. According to my mom who’d been there some years ago, the view from the top is really nice. We’d already come from Harajuku and Chinatown and it was pretty late, but figured we could still go up because it supposedly closed at 9PM. So despite our being tired, in fact my parents were no longer able to come with us (we’d been walking the whole day) and they just stayed at the nearest Starbucks instead, we still went. Mostly it was to take long shots of Tokyo at night time. We’d already seen the city from the Tokyo Tower, but it was daytime when we were at the tower, and we wanted to see the city in a different light.

After a few minutes, we reached the lobby of the building, and there was a sign on it. It was in Japanese of course, but my friend who was with us who is Japanese, Yumi, was of course able to read it. And she told us what it said:

CLOSED FOR THE DAY.

The schedule on when it would be open was written under it. And the earliest that it would open would be the next day, when she (Yumi) was no longer available, and we (my siblings, parents and I) already had other places to visit in our itinerary.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that they closed on holidays,” she apologized. We told her it was okay, and then we just laughed about it. We looked at each other then with the expression ‘What now?!’

We were standing at a sort of plaza in front of the building. There wasn’t anyone else around since it was already late. From where we were standing, the Metropolitan Building looked really good — it was lit from the bottom, and it glowed against the black sky. We were there anyway, and we had nothing else planned for the rest of the night so my brother suggested we take pictures. And this is the result:

Metropolitan Building in Tokyo behind us: (L-R) Me, my brother, Yumi, my sis

On our last night in Tokyo, we went up the Roppongi Tower and saw Tokyo by night from the top of that building. I guess it all worked out for the best because not only did I eventually get to see Tokyo by night, from the top of a building, but we got to take that really cool picture as well. I for one, haven’t seen anyone who’s visited Tokyo who has a picture like that. Although the point isn’t really that we have a unique picture (I’m sure there are others who’ve taken pictures like it, and I just haven’t seen them). I’m happy that despite things not going according to plan, or perhaps, because things didn’t go according to plan, we were able to see something different, and experience something different.

Truth is, that picture-taking session was one of the most fun activities for me for the time that we were in Japan. We thought of all these crazy poses and kept laughing at ourselves for going to a building that was already closed. And we didn’t feel embarrassed looking silly because there was no one else around. I think it was the best way to end that day, especially since it was also the last day that Yumi would be touring us around since she already needed to prepare for her classes the day after. I guess sometimes, things work out really really well, despite not planning anything, despite not being prepared… Or maybe it’s especially because things weren’t planned, and we weren’t prepared, and that’s why life gave us a nice surprise.

Walking Slowly in Lipa City

It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment trip until my friend, with whom I shared planning duties with, said that he couldn’t go. Or actually, it was more like, “Our band has to practice for an upcoming gig so we can’t go.” And seeing as they’re a band, that meant that automatically, 5 from our group won’t be able to make it. And as there were only 8 of us who planned on going anyway, only 3 of us were left. Our trip was as good as cancelled, but then my friend Jazel said, “There’s still 3 of us, right? Why don’t we go on with it?”

That’s when it became an impromptu trip. And as with all pre-planned trips that suddenly become impromptu ones, there were bound to be some changes. For one thing, we had to take the bus.

The Alabang terminal has a number of buses that go to several destinations, one of them Batangas. There were some going to Lipa, some Batangas Pier, and others. As the one that went straight to Lipa wasn’t air-conditioned, we took the one en route to Batangas Pier. The barker told us that it would pass by Lipa anyway, and it was only a Php7.00 to Robinson’s Mall, which was our first destination.

It was Php82.50 for each of us. Lipa City, we were told, was an hour and a half away. True enough, we left the terminal at around 9:30 AM, and by 11:10, we were walking into the Robinson’s Mall.

It’s smaller than the usual malls in Manila, but it had a certain charm. Its size did not make it any less interesting, in fact it made it cozier. The interior was easy to follow, one path lined with shops and establishments as staple and familiar as Jollibee and National Bookstore. There was a fountain at the middle of the building, which was an ideal meeting place, and also a supermarket, where we were able to buy our food for the next 24 hours (1 loaf of bread, 1 can of tuna, corn chips, 2 liters of water). And just outside was a cue of tricycles. We got into one, told the driver “El Grande Resort”, and hoped that he’d take us to the right place.

It was a mere 5-minute ride. The resort was along one of the back streets behind the mall. Its entrance had a sign that read “El Grande Resort & Residences”. A phone number was at the bottom of the sign. There was a guardhouse too, and the guard in it asked us if we were there to swim. We told him we were, and he told the tricycle driver to bring us to the back building. We got off, paid the driver Php40 (which I found out later on was too much and that driver totally ripped us off), and went inside a cream-colored building, which looked like a function room as it had round tables set-up with light blue napkins and everything, but there was also a wooden counter at the corner, and a receptionist was behind it.

She told me that swimming for the day was Php100 per person, until 7:00PM. The minimum for night swimming was 20 persons. Room rental was only for 12 hours. The cheapest room was Php500 for 2, Php100 for each extra person/extra mattress. The next cheapest room was Php1,500 for 2. And no, she didn’t stop in between sentences. It took me a while to figure out what we could do–pay Php100 each to go swimming, leave the pool area just as it closes at 7PM, check-in to the cheapest room for Php600, and leave at 7:00AM sharp the next day, just in time for Sunday mass. She said that would be okay, and that she’ll make the reservation with the inn for us. I said thanks, and she had someone lead us to the pool area.

There were 3 pools–a round one for kids, a bean-shaped one whose depth went from 4 to 6 feet, and a big rectangle one, which I assumed was for “serious” swimmers. We didn’t go anywhere near it. Instead, we placed our stuff under a mushroom (or at least that’s what they said it was, it just looked like an umbrella-shaped mold of cement to me) beside the bean-shaped pool, and changed into our swimsuits in the restroom, which was a few meters away from the pool.

Beside the restroom was a big cottage with a big family in it. They’d apparently decided that the videoke machine was theirs for the day, and that everyone else’s ears were at their mercy. Even from the swimming pool, we could hear them, but didn’t complain about it. Living in the Philippines, you get used to things like that. Besides, there was plenty to distract us in the swimming pool.

There was a small, cement cave around the corner, which also served as a waterfall/shower. Water flowed from its ceiling, and into the pool, keeping the water noisy and moving. The same could be said for the water that flowed from one of the slides that led to the deepest part of the pool. We didn’t leave the area until 7:00PM sharp. By then it had begun raining, and only after running into the hotel lobby did we realize that we didn’t need to run as we were already wet from swimming anyway. Still dripping, we checked in, and then we were led to a room just on the first floor–16.

It wasn’t the best room in the world. A plastic green bench greeted us, along with an already on TV (1 vs 100 with Edu Manzano) and aircon. Ahead of the bench was the entrance to the room itself. It had one queen-sized bed, and one queen-sized mattress on the floor. Aside from the TV, there was a round table covered with a red tablecloth across the beds. There was an ashtray on it, and two monoblock chairs beside it. On the other corner of the room was a wooden cabinet, and on the other side was the door to the bathroom.

“At least they’ve got towels,” Jazel said, pointing to the 3 multi-colored towels on the bed. “And soap,” my other friend, AJ said, noticing the small squares on top of each towel.

“At least it’s clean,” I said. For Php600, I guess I really shouldn’t be asking for more.

****

“We don’t have the key to this room,” I suddenly announced, just as we were all about to fall asleep.

“I guess you can only do one thing at a time here,” Jazel said, and then reminded me of how we were told to check-in, only after we’ve finished swimming.

Content with the answer she gave me, I shrugged. And then I slept.

****

We checked out around 7:10AM. It was Php150 for every exceeding hour, but this being the Philippines, I expected them not to charge us for our 10-minute excess. They didn’t. It was a very short stop at the reception area, and then we walked out of the resort, right to the tricycle cue after the guard house.

The tricycle ride to the Lipa Cathedral was less than 10 minutes. It cost us Php30. That’s provincial rates for you. When we got there, mass had already begun. But there were still people coming into the church. It was a regular occurence apparently, that despite mass already going on, people still came in and out. Without meaning to, we followed suit. And stood at the back of the church, near the adoration chapel, which was still locked at the time.

I couldn’t see the altar from where I was standing, but I had a clear view of everything else — the pillars painted skyblue, the portraits of saints on the walls, the religious scenes on the ceiling. You could tell from its structure that it was an old church, but the bright colors used on the paintings made it seem newer than it probably was. It would’ve been serene if the people hadn’t been moving around so much. It would’ve been a really nice attraction.

When mass ended, we walked outside and looked for a place to eat. Having only eaten a tuna sandwich the night before, we were close to starving. But aside from McDonald’s (which I’m really sick of — don’t ask why), there wasn’t any other food establishment near the church. And so we walked.

What I like most about provincial cities like Lipa is how there’s only one main road, and walking along it, you could learn so much about the place, like how, tricycles seemed to be the main mode of transportation, and factories the main industry. And you notice, that the people around walked slowly. As if they weren’t scared that their bags might get snatched. As if they weren’t late for an appointment. Maybe they really weren’t. I realized that my friends and I were walking slowly, too. It was a nice change of pace. And then we saw a sign for Jollibee. Our walking got faster.

After breakfast, we took another tricycle. This time, we asked it to take us to the bus stop. Not terminal, bus stop (Actually, “bastap” if you want the real pronunciation ). It cost us another Php30. We got off at the public market, which was just beside the bus stop. The stores in front all sold food. Native food, I should say. Food products made from peanuts, pinipig, fruits, ube… They all pretty much sold the same thing. We didn’t bother looking for any difference. We stopped at the first one that we saw. I bought 3 panutya (sweetened peanuts), and 1 large package of pinipig (my favorite!). It cost me Php60.

The buses were just beside the market and they seemed to lead everywhere–Buendia, Lawton, Calamba, Alabang… Unfortunately, the one going to Alabang was again, non-air-conditioned (aka Ordinary), and so we took the one going to Buendia instead.

It was around 1:00PM. The sun was high, and it was the same way as we pulled out of the terminal, and entered the Express Way. There is something to be said about taking the bus, rather than a private car on road trips to the provinces. For one thing, you get to see more outside. The seats are higher, the windows bigger. I was able to see the trees, the creeks that the bridges crossed, the birds… For a moment, I’d wished we’d taken the ordinary bus so I could feel the wind on my face.

The moment ended as soon as we reached Alabang, and the tall buildings and traffic jams came in to view again. I got home at quarter to 3 and went straight to sleep. Maybe I was tired. Or maybe I figured, it was the only way I could drown out the sounds of Metro Manila, and extend my weekend vacation for at least a couple more hours.

 

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For those interested in going to the resort, the contact numbers are: (043)757-0080 and (043)756-7088. Unfortunately, I don’t know the address, but hey, you can always ask them once you give them a call.