Category: Travel, travels



“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.”  — Quote from Paul Theroux

 

I only managed to book the first 2 nights of our week-long holiday.   In fact,  just the one night.   At the last minute, I arranged to book 2 nights in the same place in Donsol.  After that,  I grew tired explaining to the children that we don’t know where we’d stop for a night or two, and which hotel or inn we’d stay in.  You should see them.  Those eyes growing bigger, to express surprise, a tinge of nervousness maybe,  and utter despair that this time around, their grandma has no answers.

 

 

We found a good coffee place in Daraga, Albay with wifi to bring us back to the safety and comforts of this digital environment.   While we sipped our lattes, exotic shakes (think pili and sili!) and cappuccinos,  I checked out the hotel on the second floor of the building which houses both Bicol Blends Cafe and 1st Colonial Grill.  Same owners.  Same cheery staff.   Villa Amada Hotel has family rooms.   Two adjoining rooms with a connecting door.  Lots of space.  And a window that looks out to Mayon Volcano.  Perfect!   I booked the next 2 nights.

 

Family Rooms: 1 room with Queen Bed connects to 2nd room with twin beds

 

And so it went that we spent 2 nights in Donsol and another 2 nights in Daraga/Legazpi City.  The children are happy.  They slept well. They also ate well as the menu offerings downstairs at 1st Colonial Grill and Bicol Blends Cafe are exactly what they hanker for.   Until they remembered we still had the remainder of the week in Bicol.  Where to sleep the next few nights before heading home?

 

Tinapa Rice from 1st Colonial Grill

Buco Chopsuey @1st Colonial Grill. Goes well with tinapa rice!

 

As Typhoon Signal #2 was declared in the Bicol Region,  the poor weather condition was the least of  their worries.   We still had to get bookings for our Naga stay.  But there’s a lot to do to keep them busy. And there’s a lot of serious eating to be done too. We pigged out in 1st Colonial Grill down below the hotel. This is also where we can have our free breakfast — goes with the rooms we booked.   And then finish off with gourmet, exotic coffee and shakes at the Bicol Blends Cafe beside it.  The owners of Villa Amada Hotel and 1st Colonial Grill are one and the same.  Bicol Blends Cafe is owned by the son of the family.   Pretty soon,  I would be cornering a corner at the coffee shop. Slurping good coffee while surfing the Net.

 

Sili Shake, anyone?

Small Talk Cafe

 

We also found time to drive by Small Talk Cafe to take out some pasta and pizza to eat back in the hotel. We figured that if the weather conditions worsen,  we would be better off in the hotel than eating out to savor this fusion cuisine.  Ever heard of Pasta Mayon?  That is laing-filled ravioli.  How about laing pizza , or pasta pinangat? And there’s the Pili Pasta with Basil. Yummy! We ordered all these plus the more traditional pizza margherita and cappriciosa (combination pizza) for the kids.  While waiting,  we couldn’t help but check out what were being served in the next table.  Before long, we were trying out their pili pie and mud pie.   Not bad at all!  Amazing how this small cafe fuses italian goodies with local cuisine centered on pili nuts, coconut cream and chilies.   By the time we made our way back to Villa Amada Hotel,  we were ready for the typhoon with all our takeout goodies.  What gluttons we were!  No mercy.

 


Our very first day in Legazpi City and the first order of the day was this adrenaline-pumping activity.  Sort of  like a prelude to next day’s Butanding Interaction in Donsol.

 

It was  a Sunday.  Soon after hearing mass at the Albay Cathedral, we proceeded to the Embarcadero de Legazpi.   It was too early for lunch.   We pondered what to do before our big meal at Bigg’s Diner, that famous Bicol food chain.  The cable lines beckoned.   From the Embarcadero “tower”,  across the waters, down to that mound of earth at the end.  Should we?

 

The entire family minus one queued up for the zipline.   The 2 kids are ziplining in tandem with 2 adults.   At the last minute, the older kid asked to go solo.  Fine.  Brave.   We waited till an earlier batch of teens got through.   Then one of these teens began cursing , and cussing, and screaming as he ziplined down.   Either he wanted to grab attention,  tried to be “cute” or simply had a bad mouth.  For sure, he wasn’t scared.   So it could be all of the 3.   All that was enough to drive my grandson nearly  out of his wits as he had second thoughts about this daredevil activity.   Damn.   Oops, no cussing.   In the end, he was persuaded to go through with it in tandem with his mom.  But not without reciting the Lord’s Prayer in its entirety.  Phew!

It was over even before we were ready to quit.   Enough adrenaline rush for a big meal at the famous Bicol foodchain.   This American-inspired, Hollywood-ish diner beats McDonald’s anytime of day.   Spag and chix for some of the  adults, while the “babies” craved for their baby back ribs.  My not-so-little boy nearly begged for a second serving.   Wow. That zipline must have really revved up their appetite.


I wasn’t feeling so “wasted” after all.  The Pahiyas Festival in Lucban, Quezon was truly a must-do destination.  After all these years, I finally got there.  But not without some sidetrips.

 

 

The Ultimate Philippines Tours brought us to Graceland Estates and Country Club in nearby Tayabas, Quezon.  This was a sprawling estate so named because…………. Need I tell you?  All of ten hectares, featuring a Burnham Park-ish lake complete with small boats,  an al fresco restaurant overlooking the lake, and I hear some eco-trails  meandering around the vast property.   Soothing for the soul.   If only the heat wasn’t so annoying!

 

 

As our bus passed Palaisdaan sa Tayabas featuring floating tables  at a time when hunger pangs reminded us of this obligatory activity, we felt almost sorry the bus didn’t stop to  unload us.  But our uber cool local guide Tina Decal was right.  With all those buses and vans parked right outside,  we can certainly do with some peace and quiet.  We were relieved to be away from the crowds at this time of day and spend a leisurely, peaceful lunch in Graceland Estates and Country Club in the same town.   No, there was no Elvis Presley crooning while we enjoyed our lechon (thanks, Tina!), hardinera ,  corn soup, fish fillet and veggies.  But we cooled enough to get ready for another afternoon of exploring other towns of Quezon.   Oh sure, the buko (young coconut)  a la mode (with ube ice cream!) made our day.   And I am saying that even after having “sprayed” ube ice cream all over my white shirt.  Now, don’t ask me how I did that!

 

Having changed into another cotton shirt,  I was ready with the rest of the troop for Sariaya.  We skipped the Mahoyan Festival as we had no energy for the suman-throwing spectacle.  Instead,  we dropped in on some of the ancestral houses in Sariaya, Quezon and relived the glorious and rich past of the coconut barons of Sariaya.

 

 

The Sariaya Coconut Barons

If Negros had their sugar tycoons,  this quaint farming town at the foot of Mount Banahaw had its share of coconut or copra barons!   Judging by the number and ownership of the heirloom houses in the area though,  the wealth derived from coconut/copra farming was limited to a few families.   And so, while Negros had their Jalandonis, Lacsons, Locsins, Gascons, Hofilenas and what have you………Sariaya had their Rodriguezes, the Galas, the Enriquezes, the Alcalas, the Arguelleses.

 

We visited 2 of these ancestral houses. Both beautifully preserved by the descendants of these prominent citizens of Sariaya circa 1920s or so.   Pre-war.   Money was soooo good they built these mansions.  In the case of the Gala-Rodriguez House,  this Art Deco House was built for an ailing wife and mother of 7 children only for the wife to die without seeing the house completed.   This same mansion housed the office of the chief of the Imperial Army during the Japanese Occupation. There are stories about how this Japanese Army officer liked the  beautiful daughter that the family had to hide her in the cellar whenever the Chief is around.  Our local tour guide didn’t miss pointing to us the hidden passageway to the cellar right under the family’s dining table.   Since it was the HQ of the Japanese forces in this area,  this same house was a target of the US forces.   The story goes that a bomb was dropped at the back part of the house.   That big hole created by the dropped bomb is now a swimming pool separating the Mansion to an area where refreshments are served.

 

 

From the Gala-Rodriguez House, we took the back gate to walk around town and witness the Agawan Festival.  The houses here are not as lavishly decorated as the houses in Lucban for the Pahiyas Festival. We also didn’t see the “kiping” rice wafers that were used to make “aranyas” and other buntings in Lucban.  Instead, we found loot tied to bagakays on display.  As soon as the procession and the blessings are done,  the crowds grab the loot from these young bamboos called bagakay.   Too tired to join the crowds around the procession,  I watched from another heirloom house around the corner.

 

 

Rodriguez House , now called Villa Sariaya,  is such a lovely ancestral house.   With its wide and many windows lining the walls from the living room through the dining and kitchen areas,  we were thankful for the breeze that would pass in through one wide window and out another.   The family of Don Catalino Rodriguez  was also in town and the great grandchildren paraded before us in Filipiniana costumes and friar outfits, much to our delight.  The entertainment turned hilarious when some in our group donned similar Filipiniana outfits (they are rented out for only P300) for a “photo-shoot”.  What a nice interactive activity to end the day!   All these we enjoyed while partaking of the local snacks — tamales, jacobina, lemonada, etc.   Somehow, we were reminded of how life was a century ago.  Life without internet, digicams, cellphones, DVDs, etc.  A life when money was better spent on………..mansions and all those parties hosted in those pre-war days.  Oh,  life must have been real good then.   The Maria Claras of that era surely didn’t miss Elvis Presley. 😉

 

Thank you Tina and Spanky, for a wonderful day in Quezon!   If I were to spend another day sleep-starved and in punishing heat ,  I will spend the day with you guys.  Cheers all around!


Even after a good night’s rest, I still feel so tired after yesterday’s Pahiyas Festival.  Been wanting and planning to do this trip each year for the last decade or so, but never got to go till yesterday.  So there I was, uncomplaining, even if it meant waking up at 2 am. Come to think of it,  ‘waking up’ is not exactly the appropriate term .  Knowing we had to meet at Starbucks 6750 in Makati and leave at exactly 3 am,  I was so afraid to doze off and miss my tour.   I once looked at my alarm clock the night before,  set at 2am,  and thought there’s still a chance to manage 3 hours of sleep.  Guess what. I kept looking at that watch every 20 minutes or so till it was time.  😦

 

 

 

On our way to Lucban, we had to make an unscheduled stop to check this whacking noise under the bus. It disturbed me so that I failed to catch up on my sleep on the 3 hour drive.  Just the same, we reached Lucban around 6:30am just when the bands were starting to get ready to march.  Early enough to be allowed to park nearer town,  it was an easy walk to Cafe San Luis where we partook of a breakfast of Lucban Longganiza,  scrambled egg, tinapa and garlic rice.   I would have wanted my egg sunny side up and another piece of the tinapa, but it was too early to complain. Lol.  🙂

 

 

After breakfast,  I found a small group to walk around with.  We took to the main street and headed for the Church, then easily found ourselves along streets with colourful Pahiyas decorations.  My first time.  And even after breakfast, I was thinking “Pancit HabHab, Hardinera, and More Lucban Longganiza”.   I have to admit I remember a better-tasting, more crispily-fried (with minced pork bursting through the skins) lucban longganiza than the ones I had for breakfast.   But that’s fine.  Just walking along these streets,  you get enough longganizas to smell like one.

 

 

How nice that the people of Lucban preserved this tradition all through the years.  Next time,  I would be here much earlier to see how they actually work on the decorations and then transform their homes to these colourful , very original and creative decor.  A family effort, they say, to showcase what each family’s livelihood is.  A way of offering thanks for their blessings.  I will not even bother to complicate the reason for this festival — it is simply, a celebration of gratitude for what we have.

 

 

There are many young bloggers out there,  perhaps arriving just when our group was preparing to leave. Am I glad we came before mid 6am and enjoyed the walk early morning.  Towards noon,  the sun threatened to burn our shirts and skins sooo bad that I took whatever liquids I found here and there.  We had to walk a good half hour to reach our bus , meeting many tourists and locals braving the midday sun’s heat.   When we reached our bus,  the driver and a mechanic were still busily working on the bus.  Poor men.  While the airconditioning inside the bus was running,  we pitied the men working just outside just to make sure we drive safely.  Gratitude.  That was the day’s theme.

 

 


 

And so, I leave to others the duty of writing more about the Festival. Or posting better photos.  I am way too tired, even now.  I am preparing to go back to sleep.  Or just prop a book on my lap while sipping a good brew.  Gratitude.  You guys do the writing.  Mamu is all ‘wasted’ after yesterday.   Ta Ta. (Thank you, Spanky and Tina. Wow, 20 hours, straight!  You guys are tops.  Thanks too to our bus driver. )

 




Thought I’d stay home today. It’s Friday the 13th.  So. Where’s Freddy Krueger?

“When the joints ache,

when the hips break,

When the eyes grow dim,

Then I remember the great life I’ve had,

And then I don’t feel so bad.”

The other day, I thought of my favorite things.  Feeling “Julie Andrews”.  More so when I had to fetch my granddaughter from swim school with my red umbrella. 😀  But really, just thinking of all my favorite things busts any lists.   Even thinking of my favorite “travel-related” things or events or moments can easily fill up a list. No Top Ten list for me here.  It just wouldn’t be fair.  There were far too many random acts of kindness here and all over the world that I still vividly remember to this day.  And these were random acts of kindness from strangers.  Complete strangers.  I did not even bother to get their names.  The ones I got, I promptly forgot. Quick kind acts;  instant good deeds. As the good book says:   ASK, BELIEVE AND CLAIM!  You guys pray for angels before and while traveling? I do. All the time.  And it never fails to amaze me the many shapes, forms and “colors” of the angels sent my way.

No Top 10 List.  But 2 stand out, worthy of mention.

Back in 1986. I was in Scotland for a weekend. Right in the middle of winter.  Trained in from Bradford, England.  Walked around Inverness and decided to join this local tour around Loch Ness.  You know, that famous monster the size of a dinosaur that claimed a whole lake as its official residence?  Well, Nessie the Monster that was. Or is.  The local tour cost me £7 back in ’86.  Not cheap ,  based on my cash-starved pockets at the time.   I was sleeping in pension houses for only £8 a day (low season), and that goes with that very heavy English (or Scottish)  breakfast which is about the only proper meal of the day for me.

The local tour is like a family outing.  The driver cum tour guide with his blue van, and all 8 of us “kids” at the back. Yeah, that’s how he called us.  He, without a name.  Lol. Sounds like a Lord Voldemort line from Harry Potter. 🙂 But he was really a nice guy, acting out like a dad to us “kids”.  He made 2 stops before proceeding to the lake.  He also divided us into 2 groups of 4 members each.  Each group was given a grocery list.  I was with the 1st group, and promptly took over the shopping assignment.  Bread, cheese and some cold cuts.   The 2nd group was assigned to take care of the drinks.  Hot choco, water and orange juice.  We were having a picnic by the lake………IN WINTER!

Have I managed to bore you with all these details?  Alright, I’d get on with it.  The local tour guide finished his job. We who paid £7 each were satisfied.  When it was over,  he who has no name invited me and another Fil-Am, and a Brazilian to his house for lunch.  Not one to pass up a free meal (cheapskate!),  we accepted the invitation without thinking why we 3 were singled out and the other 5 were not invited.  It was a simple but filling lunch. Some kind of meat loaf dished out by his charming, hospitable wife who was just as surprised as we were to be invited to their home. Over cups of steaming hot tea (with milk),  he who has no name told us a story.  He used to be with the army.  Had stints in the Philippines and somewhere in South America (not Brazil).   He said he met locals who have shown him random acts of kindness which he will never forget.  Not much details.  But there it was, pure sincerity.   And then, he fishes wads of bills from his pocket and told us not to take offense but he would be returning our payment of £7 each.  He said it was the only way he knew how to return the “favor”.   Imagine that!  I got a free tour, a picnic and a free lunch.   Yet more than that is what stuck in my mind. All these years,  I have been conscious of the chances, the opportunities to “return the favor”.   Let those random acts of kindness roll…………all around the world.

Nanjing Misadventure

The 2nd random act of kindness happened in Nanjing, China.  Yes,  that’s where I had this freaky accident.  But I don’t want to spoil my Scotland monologue with this 2nd story.  Perhaps you should read it another time.  Dwell on the Scotland story and he who has no name.   If I can sketch,  I can illustrate every facial feature of this kind charming man. Think about it.  He was my angel.  The girl who has the knack for ending up with her last US$20 in her pocket back in those days.  Or take weekend trips at the height of winter because lodgings and tours are way cheaper then. A sucker for low-season deals.

When you’re done and care to know the 2nd story,  come read about my Nanjing Misadventure.  

P.S. Back in those pre-digicam days, I took very few photos of my trip because having the films developed cost a fortune.  I also had with me the cheapest camera you can find, as these blurry photos show.  But I wrote my travel journals even then.  Diaries. That’s what they were called.  Not blogs. After many years, I am now able to publish them! What’s that? I should keep it private? TMI? Who cares? I’m too old to keep secrets.   🙂


From “lola” mode during a long weekend in Baguio City with the grandchildren,  and sensing every rise in the summery temperature of Metro Manila, it was a no brainer to decide to join my old friends for a night in Makiling.

 

Fishpens @Laguna de Bay

 

As our van climbed its way towards our accommodations for the night on a promontory overlooking Laguna de Bay,  we couldn’t help but appreciate the tranquility  offered by this mystical place in Laguna.   No wonder they chose this place as an Arts Center.  In the middle of a lush forest , we find ourselves in this one-storey structure with all of 9 spacious rooms, each with a balcony with a view.  Laid out like a square with a swimming pool  in the middle,  the old sala sets can be found at almost every corner of this bungalow.   We chatted nearly every step of the way, from one end to the next, till we all ended up in the huge living and dining room attached to a similarly-sized kitchen.   We had the place all to ourselves.  Just 5 of us.  And all of 9 rooms.   While 2 of my friends busied themselves in the kitchen for our dinner of mache and arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, paired with a huge slab of t-bone steak for the carnivores (4 of us) and a fish dish for the lone meatless diner,   I took off to claim a space in the balcony overlooking the bay.   This is where I waited for sunset , and stayed on till twilight.    Lights flickered from the distance.  Fishpens grew in obscurity as the sun set,  with dear old me growing frustrated over my lack of photography skills.   A better camera and an expert photographer would have loved the display of colors bursting from the skies.   No DLSR for me.  No tripod.  Just my dependable Point & Shoot kept me company all that time.  Shaky hands.  More so, after a couple of glasses of wine.  Can you blame me?  It was my favorite Pinot Noir. 😉

 

 

The book I brought with me remained unread.   Sleep came easy.  What with the breeze, the peace and quiet.  The wind makes some sounds as it blows through the screened windows and lets the curtains rise and fall in rhythm with the resident “tuko”  making its presence felt.   The lone moth trapped in the dining area brushes the ceiling light every now and then, just as the crickets organize themselves into a choir.   What bliss.

 

 

In the morning, we woke up to a simple breakfast of pandesal and kesong puti.   The leftover arugula and mache were not wasted as they made good beddings for the local mozarrella and feta cheese.  The Deliz ricotta and goat cheese we bought on our way to Makiling have such a subtle taste that in no time,  we were eating the day-old turnovers and oven-burnt croissant with the local cheese.  C’est la vie.  Life is good.  Especially when your taste buds remind you that.

 

Pook ni Maria Makiling Park

 

Pretty soon, we were making our way to Maria Makiling Park.  The Olympic-size swimming pool is still there, but the cage housings are unoccupied.  No birds, no parrots, or whatever was there before.   There was a pair of lonesome ducks too eager to follow us around.  They probably don’t get too many visitors these days.   The cottages have had their heyday, but now look quite dilapidated that  I chose to take photos from a distance , if only to make them look good.   Up close, the eaves, roofing, window frames, etc. have all seen better days.

 

The van weaved around bends till we found ourselves inside the U.P. Los Banos Campus.    It is still a lovely, lively campus. We were tempted to take our lunch here with the students but the summer heat was quite unbearable even in those open-air eateries.   At the Dairy,  we made our purchases of kesong puti, pastillas from carabao milk, yogurt (yum!).   There were no cara-beef  cervelat and schublig ( the restos must have cornered them!) available for sale.  I should remember to do my shopping earlier next time.

 

UP Los Banos' Animal Husbandry Dept

I'm no big fan of Imelda, but I thank her for this Center. 😉

 

And so we bid adieu to Makiling.  Bags packed, shopping done, minds emptied, muscles relaxed,  we brace ourselves for the chaos of Manila.  No big fans of Imelda here,  but she had it right building the Arts Center here.

 


BenCab Museum is more than just a museum.  

 

We came , knowing we won’t get disappointed with this National Artist’s works and art collections.   Learning more about the indigenous art in this neck of the woods comes as a bonus . Appreciating how BenCab’s art evolved through the years since he dropped out of college to emerge as a Master of Contemporary Art is  a natural consequence. Beyond all these, we were still surprised to find that behind the Museum is a farm and garden where one can arrange an eco-trail tour to meander around duck ponds, a forest, a layered garden imitating the famous rice terraces,  typical indigenous architecture of the Ifugao, Kalinga and Bontoc.  We wandered around the pond, crossed a charming wooden bridge leading to a small kiosk overlooking a mini forest and a river meandering through the property along with a cascading waterfalls on one end of the property.

 

 

We found BenCab Museum on our way to Baguio City.  From Marcos Highway, we turned left at Kilometer 6 Asin Road, Tadiangan, Tuba, Benguet.  It would be another 4.5 kilometers till we reached the Museum. Admission is 100 pesos.  The place is only a 15 minute ride from Baguio City Center, passing the Woodcarvers’ Village along Asin Street.  There are jeeps to Asin from the jeepney terminal found near Baguio market. Just be sure you don’t go on a Monday when the Museum is closed.

 

 

Since we arrived noontime,  we were pleased to find that the Museum has a charming dining place called Cafe Sabel right on the Farm and Garden Level.   There is a good menu selection ranging from the very local “Longsilog”  consisting of the Baguio Longganiza or local sausages, served with an egg and fried mountain rice,   to the more continental soup, salad and sandwich combination,  to chicken cacciatore, pork schnitzel and a number of pasta selections.   We ate our lunch here on a table with an open wide window overlooking the farm and garden.

 

 

Interestingly,  Cafe Sabel was named after a somewhat mad, bag lady  whom the artist observed and sketched from a window of a house somewhere in Bambang, Tondo where he lived for a time. In his mind, this mad scavenger must have been a symbol of dislocation, poverty, hopelessness  and isolation.  

In the lovely words penned by Rene Guatlo:

“This vagrant woman is one of the best known muses of the artist’s storied career. In her plainness, he saw beauty.

In her anonymity, he saw an individual person who chose to live as she saw fit.

In her weakness, he saw her native wit and strength. It is a tribute to BenCab that what he saw, what he painted, are what endure.”

 

 

The painting of rooftops was when the artist was still relatively young.  Easily one of my favorites along with the Sabel pieces and the painting of 3 masked men.   Taking off from the rooftop painting, one can observe how his art has evolved through the years.  There is even a special gallery in the Museum called Erotica.  From sensual paintings to erotic woodcarvings and sculptures, this room may overwhelm your senses.  😉

 

 

And then there is the collection of indigenous art from the Cordillera region.  Abra, Benguet, Ifugao, Kalinga, Mountain Province, Apayao and Baguio City make up the Cordillera Region.  It happens to be the ONLY landlocked region in the country encompassing most of the areas within the Cordillera Central mountain range of Luzon, the largest range in the country.

 

The Museum showcases the skills of Igorots in weaving and basketry,  and the woodcarving skills of the Ifugaos.   Notably,  it was the Ifugaos who carved the Banaue rice terraces in the Cordillera mountainside 3,000 years ago. 

 

 

In the middle of the Cordillera Gallery is this very long wooden bench called “hagabi”. Carved from a single piece of wood,  the “hagabi” is a symbol of wealth and social prestige among the Ifugaos.  The “ritual” involves the hosting of a public feast where priests (called “Mumbaki”) perform a ceremony called “mamaldang” to determine if the omens for the creation of the hagabi bench are favorable.  If so,  the ritual begins with the search for the right tree (usually a narra) , the journey of the woodcarvers to the forest to select, cut and carve the tree,  and the villagers taking turns in transporting the carved hagabi bench out of the forest through mountain trails . This activity takes several days and ends with more days of eating, drinking of rice wine and dancing.  Quite an elaborate feast, if you ask me.  And I am reminded of the ceremonies attendant to the creation and carving of totem poles in Alaska to mark a “special event or milestone” .  Interesting.

 

 

The last room we visited was the Maestro Gallery.  Here one finds a selection of works by Joya, Edades, Aguinaldo, Chabet, Legazpi, Luz, Magsaysay-Ho, Sanso, Zobel and other masters.   The Museum definitely does justice to this art collection.  All of 3 levels plus the Farm and Garden Level,  the BenCab Museum makes for an afternoon well-spent.   For sure,  I will come visiting again in my next Baguio trip. Perhaps spend more time in the Farm and Garden, or just sit it out in one of the kiosks in the middle of the duck pond.  Who knows?  The Cafe Sabel may even have a resident Chef by then.  Or am I expecting too much?


We get this all the time.  Foreigners in the workplace telling us that Filipinos tend to eat every so often.  Lunch is no sandwich and a fruit.  Neither is it a half hour break.  Naaaah.  That one hour lunch break can easily stretch to a couple of hours, often blaming the traffic for not getting back soon enough. These days,  there are many joints a walking distance from the offices. But lunch is lunch, and every Filipino observes it not just as a break from work but also as a chance to chat away the blues and break the monotony of working behind a desk. As for snacks or mid-day “mini-meals”?   That’s when it is more likely to find Filipinos eating that sandwich or fruit.  But the hardcore ones would still crave for their carbo fix:  a noodle dish, rice porridge or rice cakes.  In between lunch and that midday mini-meal, don’t be surprised to find them munching peanuts, pork cracklings, chips, or splitting pumpkin seeds.

 

Taho. Best for breakfast!

Sago at Gulaman

 

Luckily for us,  there is no shortage of food to be found and bought.  Stuck in a traffic jam?  No worries.   The street vendors plying the main roads sell anything from peanuts to pork cracklings to boiled eggs to mint candies to fruits to bottled water to “fish balls, squid balls and shrimp balls”. Boiled bananas, boiled peanuts, even corn on the cob! Walking the streets of Manila is an adventure.  Every tourist should try this.  Buying street food is very much a part of every Filipino’s way of life.  And there’s more to be found in urban centers like Manila, where folks are supposed to be “busier” than their counterparts in the provinces who may have the time and energy to cook their own meals and snacks.


Halo Halo!

 

As it is summer, try going to San Andres Market, a stone’s throw from Malate Church.   You can get your freshest fruits here to eat, or to be made into a fruit shake.   You can’t go wrong with a 10 peso fruit shake (less than US $0.25) or the local “halo-halo” (literally means “mix-mix”) for 20 pesos (less than US$0.50). I strongly suggest you try the halo-halo which is a mixture of  sweetened fruits, ice shavings and milk, topped with a local sweetened ube yam. You can’t be more Filipino than that!

 


 

Or you may want to head all the way to Chinatown for your dimsum fix and other foodstuff.  The street vendors here range from those selling fruits, vegetables and cooked food to those selling almost anything you need to get from an honest-to-goodness hardware and supermarket.  Around Quiapo Church,  you can buy your religious icons,  candles,  fans (strongly suggested on hot, humid days) , flower garlands, brooms (yes, brooms),  fruits, vegetables , squash flowers, and fish (live, dead, smoked or dried!).  From Quiapo Church through Santa Cruz Church to Binondo Church,  you will find street stalls selling footwear, garments and again,  more foodstuff.  There is an alley near the Binondo Church called Carvajal where I wanted to buy almost everything I laid my eyes on!  Forget the diet.  There is so much to buy here to take home as TV dinners.  Sushi?  Taho? Meat loaf?  Rice cakes?  

 

Barbequed Pork and Innards. Guess what!

Puto Bumbong

You may also want to check out more photos from my TravelBlog site

 

Me, Travel Solo?


You must be joking.  I may have done it before, way before.  Till my knees ached. Till my shoulders drooped. Till my back screamed ouch.  Till my mind never stopped wondering where I put my stuff.  Oh, how I wish I still have the energy and fearless wanderlust of the young.  But I certainly try.  At my age, you just have to give me A for effort.

 

 

The lust for adventure began with my first solo trip to another Asian city.   I was 18, and had to meet up with my parents in Hongkong.  It was not a lovely experience.  My nerves got in the way and that little paper bag behind the seat was put to good use as my hour-old meals decided to exit unceremoniously. The next chance I got was when I took a short course in England at a time when the EDSA revolution was unraveling.  Talk about perfect timing. I would have loved to be home then.  But as luck would have it, I was thousands of miles away.  I didn’t just study then,  I scrimped like crazy.  I stashed away half of my allowances into a kitty for my weekend travels , as well as for a 3 month long solo travel around Europe after I completed the short course.   Talk about “fearless wanderlust”,  I was young and carefree then and couldn’t be bothered that I crossed oceans from London to Washington DC with my last US$20 in my pocket.  I tempted fate then,  all too confident that my friends in US of A were just a phone call away to bail me out of whatever trouble I got into.  As things turned out,  my friend had to ask another friend (whom I met then for the first time) to fetch me at the train station where I ended up with my bottom $20.  Mind you, I had no credit card, ATM card nor cell phones then   =)

 

 

Since then,  I knew that traveling with or without a group,  the whole way or part of the way,  is a little luxury I just need to indulge in.  To visit and revisit the same sites etched in memory, and draw the same intensity of cheer and joy.   So I worked hard.  And saved good.   Good enough for an early retirement. There are far more things I can do without, and that supported my idea to quit and have a life .   Rather, to celebrate life!

 

Then and Now

 

I love traveling because I always come back with less cobwebs in my mind. It is as if I empty my mind of all clutter upon departure, and fill it with many happy memories upon arrival. I also like the idea that life is so focused on the present, and my senses are all playing to listen, feel , see, smell and taste everything novel or not so new. The fact that I only have to choose from a limited wardrobe, or use the same pair of shoes throughout my holiday , or work and survive on a single budget make life so much simpler. Sure, you sometimes get a raw deal in a few trips, or feel hassled by flight delays and cancellations, but the joys and simplicity of the present far outweigh the negatives. Oh, btw, I always end up gaining more friends after each trip. Many I kept……

 

Manhattan Skyline (Before 9-11)

 

Solo travelling allows you to discover places, but more so to discover one’s self.  It puts you in touch with your inner self and allows you to trust yourself (and others too) more and more.  In a way,  it boosts your self-confidence as you discover new boundaries.   Once you unravel yourself in this fashion,  you then find out how much you can celebrate life in a way only you can understand.  Who cares if others don’t?  The capacity for joy is a gift.  To find joy in your heart, even in solitude,  is a blessing.

 

 

I envy the young bloggers for their youth, energy and enthusiasm.  I still share the same sense of adventure, but I am now constrained to make solo trips only around the city.   After an unnerving misadventure in Nanjing, China where I took a nasty slip, hit my head on the pavement, broke my eyeglasses and ended up with the stem (that part which rides the ears) stuck near my eyebrow,  this old hag is not allowed to go solo beyond city limits.  A pity.  But the restriction does not in any way dampen the joy I have wandering around.    After all, there are so many places to visit and revisit.  I may not be your typical DSLR-toting blogger (too heavy for my bones to carry) ,  but my P&S cam serves the purpose to document the sites I enjoyed.

 

Nanjing Misadventure

 

So, while you young ‘uns are spelunking , scaling mountains, camping, diving into unknown waters , sailing,  or whatever else, this grandma travels — solo most often—  around the city checking out new food finds or revisiting churches and museums,  or simply enjoying the breeze along the Bay.   You see, there are more history lessons to be learned visiting these areas and I simply love “going back in time” to reminisce the good ol’ days.  More importantly,  I always find myself thanking Him that I find myself in these situations that bring so much cheer.  Truly, gratitude is the memory of the heart!

 

This is my entry to Pinoy Travel Bloggers’ Blog Carnival on the theme “Solo Travel” hosted by Nina Fuentes aka Just Wandering

Summer Camp 2011


Martin chose to take badminton lessons.  No way he’d play soccer again.  I’m a bit surprised he wasn’t interested in taekwando.  But badminton is fine.  As for Patricia,  I knew even before I asked that she’d want to do the pool once more.  She almost divorced herself from the school’s swimming team during the exam weeks and all those graduation rehearsals, and I can tell her muscles are aching to flex in the pool.


And I thought school’s over.  Not a single break.  From Friday graduation, to Summer Camp the following Monday.  No mercy.  Summer camp starts at 8 am sharp.  And my little ones hate being late for their sessions with Coach Akiko Thomson and Coaches Weena and EG.  While Martin sweats in the badminton court and Patricia slices the pool,  dear Mamu does her rounds at the oval. No, not jogging. That’s bad for my knees.  Just brisk walking, passing the badminton court, the swimming pool area, the tennis court, and the Taekwondo gym where I can’t help smiling watching them little ones flex their muscles, while their doting parents watch and take snapshots.


And so…….I do my share of exercise while chaperoning the kids to Summer Camp. Plus I do get a fair amount of amusement too.   I love watching these young ones ; and I so adore their coaches.   Coach Akiko Thomson and her husband Coach Chips are such a lovely couple and they are so wonderful with the kids.   One can tell they sooo love what they do.  I have seen them pick up kids, personally train them and more than that,  I am amazed how these kids give them 100% attention.  Now, I never got that!   😉