Do you know the way to Banaue?

In one of the most sadistic itineraries ever, we made our way to Banaue after Bohol. We arrived in Manila at 5pm (Cebu Pacific is inevitably late), went to San Juan to check out the custom made barongs at Patis Tesoro in San Juan, and then picked up our luggage in Makati, dropped it off in Malate at our condotel, rearranged our clothes, and then had our driver (our cousin in law Christopher hooked it up with his friend) take us to Sampaloc to the Autobus station, where we boarded a 10pm bus to Banaue. You're supposed to sleep on this bus, which is hard because the brakes sound so bad you don't want to nod off lest you find yourself lurching off the side of the mountain into the Cordilleras. I won't even discuss the bathroom at the rest stop, but let's just say that this is the Character and Resilience Building part of the trip.

We arrived in Banaue to a cold, wet, rainy, and foggy morning. After dropping our stuff off at the cavernous, dark, and, for Banaue standards, luxe, Banaue Hotel, we were picked up by Mang Abe, our Ifugao tour guide/expert jeepney driver, and taken on a six hour tour of the rice terraces. It was raining hard by then. I kept my eyes closed through much of the traveling, and held onto the rails inside the jeepney praying to every spirit possible that we wouldn't fall off the edge. Hail Marys too, just for insurance. The terraces at Hungdaan are amazing. Unfortunately, the day we arrived turned out to be the one day in the entire dry season it rained incessantly, bringing in blinding fog. By the time we got to the Banaue Viewpoint, it was pouring, all the terrace views were fogged out, and I felt heartbroken. I did see some amazing ones, and I do have to say that you cannot truly appreciate their grandeur without seeing them in person.

We blew a bit of money at the Banaue shops and then went back to our hotel, where a group of Ifugao musicians and dancers were holding a cultural show. It was the first time we had seen Ifugao dances outside of the Bayanihan style; there are no formations, lights, or makeup. Again, an eye-opening experience. By this time, my sipun had abated a bit and we packed to leave for Baguio the next day.


The bus to Baguio was at 7am. Too early to be able to see some terraces, though the day, of course, was beautiful and clear. It took 8 long hours on a crazy bus trip to get to Baguio. We went back down to Nueva Ecija, through Nueva Nizcaya, and then through Pangasinan. At one point, I woke up and we were in Binalonan. Which famous Filipino American author was born in Binalonan? (Clue: he wrote America is in the Heart). After eight hours and about twelve provinces, we finally arrived in Baguio. Baguio City was founded by American colonial officials, who found a cool valley in the Cordillera Mountains and turned it into their administrative center because of its temperate climate. It used to be a mountain retreat -- think Lake Tahoe or Yosemite, but now suffers the fate of Manila. It's crowded, polluted, and jammed with traffic constantly now. Jesse was so excited to visit where he spent many a summer vacation in a bucolic atmosphere. Now he's more than a little disappointed. We met up with Jesse's mom here. She hired a driver to take us around. We shopped at the City Market, went to the SM Baguio City, and then crashed at this really cute bed and breakfast, PNKY.

We left for Zambales at around 11 am.