The Travel Bug Strikes Again

I grew up in Commonwealth -- the biggest and most densely populated barangay in Quezon City. While there were some fun things to do and a lot of establishments to visit in the city, we were a low-income family so we didn’t really enjoy going to those places often. Even more unimaginable to me was the idea of going on a vacation to places further than Greater Metro Manila. My family was very thrifty and no-nonsense when it came to money matters so I brought that mindset with me until I became a young adult.

My first job allowed me to travel as far as Visayas and Mindanao and those experiences were amazing. However, those were business trips. The wonder that I felt while roaming the streets of Zamboanga in search of training props did not trigger any wanderlust for me. It was amazing that I got to visit Rizal’s house in Dapitan where he was exiled but I knew that the only reason I was there was because of my job. I couldn’t have afforded that trip on my own.

My other friends, on the other hand, went crazy over travelling even when they couldn’t afford it. They didn’t mind going broke just to get to that new it-place and post pictures on Instagram. That never appealed to me.

BUT...I did eventually get bitten by the travel bug. An old friend invited me to go backpacking to Sorsogon for her 22nd birthday. She was pretty crazy about taking photos so I set down some rules: less picture-taking, more quiet moments drinking ice cold beer on the beach while staring at the sunset. She agreed and we went on a wonderful adventure.

We went on a 13-hour bus + van trip to Sorsogon. Our working-class city-girl asses were so culture-shocked by how slow and chill and kind the people of Gubat, Sorsogon were. But boy was it glorious. We set up a tent by the beach. Teenage boys taught us how to surf and we bought them beer afterwards because we felt cool and irresponsible. :P I watched the sunset, the moonrise, and woke up at 5am to catch the sunrise and to watch a granny teach her 3-year-old grandson how to skim surf. Before we left, the granny gave us parting gifts -- shell bracelets, some snacks, and two kilos of uncooked sticky rice. It was so odd and so touching at the same time.

After that, we ate at a carinderia and asked the ate-girl how to get to Paguriran. As it turns out, everybody else in the carinderia was a jeepney driver on break. They tried to give us directions but because they couldn’t help but meddle, they just offered to drive us there. For free. We bought more beer and ice and brought our drinks to the rock formation in the middle of the sea that is Paguriran. Later that night, two of the jeepney drivers who accompanied us asked if we’d like to drink with them outside our cottage. We were scared. At first. But our cottage was right next to the caretaker’s store and there was a videoke machine. We were also young and reckless and unable to say no to new things so we said yes. And we ended the night exchanging life and love advice with the drivers, one of the drivers' son, and their jeepney operator. The next day, they drove us to the bus terminal (again, for free), secured our bus tickets (we paid for those), and they even paid for my pasalubong! The jeepney operator happened to own a pili nut farm and he even gave me a sando bag full of pili nuts that were still in the shell. It was pretty fucking cool.

It was another long bus ride and arrived home tired and sunburnt but my heart was full. Even now when I have travelled to many places in and out of the country several times, that backpacking trip still has a very special place in my heart. <3

That’s all for today.

Sincerely,
Len