Airplane turbulence aside, there had been very few instances, if any, in my travels when I feared for my life. I usually perished the thought of perishing on my journeys; otherwise, I would never embark on one. That sense of trepidation, however, came over me as I stood transfixed at the jagged jaws of Sumaguing Cave, aka The Big Cave, in Sagada. Stalactites and chiseled boulders protruded like menacing teeth around the black hole that dropped deep into the mountain. Would I offer myself to get swallowed up by this monster of rock?
Who would travel ten hours by bus to Banaue only to miss seeing the postcard-famous Batad Rice Terraces? This tourist, apparently. Fresh from a butt-busting bus ride, my friends and I were herded off by jeepney to People’s Lodge and Restaurant for a meet-up with tour guides. A blind date, as it were. They recommended less touristy rice terraces, although Batad was scribbled in the itinerary as a come-on. We could not tell whether it was our limited time or a web of lies that denied us a stop at Batad; instead, we spent our precious half-day in town at Hapao Rice Terraces.
The best vacay was not a place; it was time. Exactly what Ki needed: Time. Although he wanted to wake up in a different city, he actually needed “just one day out of life,” as my favorite holiday song went, away from the pressures of a sales job. He decided to drive to Baguio at the eleventh hour; we literally left at 11 PM. With the connection of three expressways (NLEx, SCTEx, and TPLEx), travel time from Manila had been halved. In only four hours, we could feel the nippy Baguio breeze on our faces.