It's futile to chronicle, document, and recount the events that transpired so far during our trip to Sagada. I guess no matter how eloquently I try to describe it, my writings will never give justice to the experience of actually being there. But if only to share that awesome vacation with my Tungol cousins (and my brother), I'll do my best. So here goes the first of N parts.
The cast of clowns: Tina, Katrina, JoAnn (my cousin who lives in Boston and went on a vacation to the Philippines), Rom (my brother), EJ, and yours truly.
Going to Sagada, we had to take the 6-hour bus trip to Baguio City, and from there rode another bus bound for Sagada, which took another 6 hours--for a total of 12 hours. (I'll probably include a map next time. My resources are limited here in Sagada right now, but good thing there's internet connection.) We were almost asleep through all of it, but it was still a grueling, ass-numbing ride. After Sagada, we planned on passing by Bontoc and visit Banaue--where the famous rice terraces were found--on the way back to Manila.
I'd say we were pretty prepared for the trip. Considering it was the first out-of-town trip that the cousins were embarking and also the first time that a lot of us would able to come, we held logistics meetings and had almost everything fairly ironed out: bus reservations, travel food, budget, accommodations, itinerary--the works. Katrina even asked a contact/friend of hers to get us a bus reservation for our Banaue-Manila trip.
After doing some last minute shopping, dinner at Oakwood, and pre-departure photo-ops, we set off to Sagada. Unfortunately, we couldn't get a cab that would take us to the bus terminal and we were running friggin' late. So we took the MRT instead with all our bags and stuff. It was grueling, if you ask me, carrying heavy loads and running to beat the time during rush hour; but by some stroke of luck, we actually made it to the bus station a few minutes before boarding. Whew! The gripping excitement, I thought, started instantly at the onset of the trip; hell, like we haven't even made it to Sagada yet!
I'd probably skip recounting our 12-hour bus ride. Besides, I was awake only at the start of the trip when JoAnn and I were having some serious discussion on a lot of stuff, at stop-overs, and instances when Rom took pictures of my cousins sleeping. Just a few observations though: the bus from Baguio to Sagada was jam-packed but I believe not all of them were tourists; plus, maybe most of the people preferred taking the other route via Banaue-Bontoc-Sagada, about 2 hours discount on travel time; a lot more road was cemented now unlike my first travel to Sagada in 2003 where it was mostly rough dirt road (or less bumps on the head).
We arrived in Sagada by noon the following day, an hour earlier than scheduled. We immediately went scouting for a place to stay. Our preferences varied and were quite a handful; hence, resulting in our indecisiveness to pick one over two choices. After two hours, we finally decided to stay in Olahbinan, which was a few meters from the town center and had the basic amenities we required. We had to share one private bathroom though and smoking wasn't allowed inside the room (more to EJ's dismay). After a quick lunch, we registered at the municipal hall and made arrangements for the caving expedition for the next day plus dinner that night.
Echo Valley.
We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon by trekking to the hanging coffins found in Echo Valley, a tourist area that Sagada was famous for. The locals of Sagada, especially the old generations, did not practice burying their dead. They placed their dead inside caves or hung them along the side of cliffs. The hanging coffins, in particular, makes one wonder how they ended high up the cliff. It was unfortunate though that graffiti ruined some coffins that were probably centuries old. The trek going there was not as arduous even though we opted to follow a sketch map (a copy can be bought from souvenir shops at P10) and trust our instincts instead of getting a local guide to help us. We made it there eventually. I wonder if making that map accessible to tourists poses a disadvantage for their local tourist guide association since it lessens the revenues that they could've earned otherwise. Tourists who work on tight budgets or those who seek out an adventure won't have the same sentiments, of course.
The hanging coffins of Sagada.
If we had fun there, more fun ensued while we were indoors. After that sumptuous sinigang na baboy for dinner, which was a very delightful treat after coming from a long trip and a tiresome afternoon, we couldn't just sign off for the night without chugging a couple of Lights. We couldn't find chilled beer though; we thought maybe the cool climate of Sagada will compensate for it instead--and probably, warm beer was better if we wanted to counter the cold night breeze. Almost all of us had loaded two beers each but we were laughing after stories, and laughed even more as we recounted old stories. EJ, Rom, JoAnn, and I were probably snorting over a funny story while Katrina was taking videos at some points--the kind that was blackmail material. Tina preferred to listen and laugh in response. I was too drunk with two beers to even remember what I was talking about, but I could tell that those videos held my dignity in the balance (securing them from public consumption was of utmost priority, but hell, in my cousins' hands that's probably too late anyway).
