These Boots Were Made For Walking

I've been trying to think of a great way to kick off this entry on my first backpacking trip with Romain in the Philippines, but immediately recognized the notorious rambler preambler habit, which often leads to unfinished blogs. So to play it safe, I'll settle for the old-fashioned timestamping, to prevent me from digressing and drifting...

DAY 1: It's Time Everyone Flies
We took the early morning Cebu Pacific flight to Clark and went straight to the Victory Liner station in Dau to board the first bus to Baguio. The bus was an ice box on wheels and 5 hours later, Romain and I were two walking ice cubes on Session Road desperately looking for a bus headed to Banaue. Luck wasn't on our side because the last bus to Bontoc left 45 minutes earlier. We hopped on the first bus to Sagada instead and I was sad to find out that the rough roads that were disemboweling us then, were the same dirt roads that I traveled with my family during my first trip to Sagada 6 or 8 years ago. Thanks to the adept pocketing skills of our local government, those roads never saw the light of cementing day.

DAY 2: 2-in-1 DVD: Tomb Raider and The Mummy

Sagada was the same old quiet town that I knew. The cabin-type Masferre restaurant was still standing proud next to the Municipal Hall. We checked in at the Ganduyan Inn & Cafe which was relatively cheap and clean. It, however, crushed my dreams of having a long, hot shower because the broken electric heater no longer responded to excessive tinkering and fist pounding. As much as you would love to complain and bitch about the situation, losing half your brains on a 6-hour bumpy bus ride wouldn't leave you with much energy.

The day after we headed early to the Sumaging and Burial Caves. Sumaging was still as beautiful as I remember. The descent was really rough, and requires a lot of tactical footing and maneuvering, something your body wasn't designed to do first thing in the morning. Which probably explains why, at one point, I slipped and slid down the rock ala-Lara Croft. If the guide hadn't been there to break my fall, I would've fallen into a crevice of oblivion (or maybe just a shallow pit of batshit...who knows? I'm glad I didn't have to find out). I was grateful the fall was accompanied by a very sexy, Keanu Reeves-ish "Whooooooaaaaaaa!!!!" than a shrill, wussy shriek "Eeeeeeeeeekk!!!".

Sagada Burial Caves


Aye, aye captain. We're going in...


DAY 3: On The Road Again
We took a jeepney to Bontoc, which was 4 hours away from Sagada. From Bontoc, we got on the bus to Banaue where we would stay for the night. The bus was packed and cramped with all sorts of things - people, kaings of vegetables, walis-tambo, padala boxes, strawberry-shortcake bags...thank God for small blessings, no one brought cockfighting roosters in pocked boxes.

We were halfway to Bontoc when we ran into a roadblock - a tractor was clearing the path for a road widening project (which would be finished when the local official gets re-elected in 2012, pardon my skepticism). But it was a good butt relief and the view was amazing...

People milling around impatiently...


Nice view of the Cordilleras...



DAY 4: No Wonder It's The Eighth Wonder
We arrived in Banaue by nightfall and stayed at Greenview Lodge. The plan was to go to Batad early next morning and start off from Kinakin, hiking all the way to Cambolo, a local village. From Cambolo, we would cut through Batad - an estimated trek of 6 hours in total.

The first leg of the trek was a moderately steep ascent, which got us hot and sweaty (rid thyself of those perverted thoughts) but the rest of the walk was pretty flat. We came across curious botanical species, beautiful waterfalls, and windows of breathtaking sceneries.



We were stumped again, for the second time, by another road-widening project. It was like crossing a landslide - muddy, unstable and completely dangerous. But the brave trekkers ploughed on...and made it to Cambolo.



The long, tedious walk was rewarded by steaming red rice freshly pounded earlier in the day, and stir-fried vegetables.





After lunch, we found ourselves in a dilemma. The road leading to Batad, which should've made up the last two hours of our trek, was blocked and no longer passable due to the road-widening being done atop the mountain (this road-widening turned out to be the bane of our existence). We had to trek all the way back to the mountain and take the longer route.

Eight hours, five Cloud 9's and 2000 calories burned later, we reached the beautiful terraces of Batad.

We stayed in Simon's Inn, which finally had hot water (hurray! nothing beats good old-school kettle boiling), and decent food which came long after our gastric juices have digested and re-digested themselves. We called it a night and gave our sore muscles some much-deserved rest.

DAY 5: The Stratovolcano of the 90's


We left at the crack of dawn, because jeepneys only come to Batad until 9AM. The hike up to the jeepney terminal takes about an hour, and there were no happy faces that morning, only grunts and plenty of huffing and puffing. We had to catch the earliest jeepney to Solano, Nueva Vizcaya, and get a bus to Tarlac for our Pinatubo trek. The bus from Solano to Dagupan was the best ass-buster of all. I was like a fratman being beaten incessantly by a dos-por-dos for 5 grueling hours. We subsisted on Cloud 9 and Skyflakes during the trip, and for that I thank Jack N' Jill and M.Y. San for supplying our carb and glucose needs.

We finally reached Capas at 9PM, and managed to find Jason's Garden Inn, which was a cheap motel pretty close to the Philippine Air Force Camp where the Pinatubo Tourist Center was. It was very easy to arrange the Pinatubo trek. We paid PHP1750 each, which covered the cost of the 4x4 vehicle, driver and trek guide. The ride to the base of the mountain took almost an hour and the trek itself took a little more than an hour. There were a few ascends, but the challenge was to trek on volcanic rocks and cross streams. It's advisable for first time trekkers to wear proper hiking shoes. Waterproof's the best, if you want to walk through streams instead of tip-toeing and balancing on mangled igneous remains.



It wasn't the first time during the trek that I asked myself what pleasure do I get from being sweaty, dirty, exhausted, not to mention growing calves as big as Schwarzenegger's, when I could've easily stayed in the comforts of my home, watching movies or reading a book. But this is what makes every step, every calorie burned, every sore joint, every bruise, and yes, even having calves on steroids, worth it...





We heart the Philippines!