Looking at my photos of Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque made me realize that they don’t deserve to be in a post on a day in Abu Dhabi; they deserve to be in a dedicated one to properly showcase the mosque’s splendor and beauty. Big words, especially that I actually had no intention of going to the capital of the United Arab Emirates until it was brought up by the Korean and Chinese I met at the hostel. So, shall we?

We arrived at the bus terminal in Abu Dhabi just before midday struck and took a taxi to get to Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. At ten minutes past twelve, I took my first photo of the structure and instantly grasped that when in Dubai, you just gotta go to Abu Dhabi, too. Standing in all its white glory, it’s unquestionably a must-see.

Ingress

There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but there sure is a thing as a free entrance to Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. Of course, you have to be dressed appropriately to get inside the compound. If you didn’t do your assignment, don’t fret just yet, as there’s abaya and shayla and thawb for everyone at the entrance. My clothes didn’t require me to wear a thawb but I would’ve loved to wear one as part of the experience if it weren’t for the fact that it was gonna be uncomfortable because it was scorching and I sweat like mad. #jabar

Inappropriate behaviors, which include poses for your photos, are not tolerated so cooperate accordingly. Rihanna was kicked out after doing a pose similar to one of my so-called signature poses. We don’t want that, do we.

Getting through the gate, I was immediately in awe as I approached the mosque. Its utter whiteness was very striking (reminiscent of the Panathenaic Stadium in Greece, if I may say); its minarets, columns, and reflecting pools gave the most wonderful welcome.

The Grand Mosque

Footwear is prohibited in the building so don’t expect it to be a part of your OOTD while inside. See those golden circles? They’re not like the one in Kingsman; they’re where footwear were left.

The first photo that I took once inside the mosque was that of the intricately designed ceiling. The off-limits courtyard, with its beautiful floral design, opens up to a marvelous view of the minarets and the domes housing the prayer hall.

There were a lot of people by the blockade so it wasn’t easy getting a photograph with the courtyard and prayer hall’s facade.

From there we turned left where another perspective of the columns awaited. Floral designs were all over the place—from the ceiling to the columns and to the floor.

The courtyard, given how grand of a marble mosaic it was, deserved photos from multiple angles. Photographed below are our destination and where we entered.

Towards the prayer hall were more decorations—stained glass, decorative tilework, and more flowers on the walls. It just doesn’t get any better, I’m telling you. Everything was becoming more intricate wherever you look, with the ceilings looking like they’re about to warp you.

And oh, oh, did I mention that there were chandeliers? Man, they were the most exquisite!

There was also a pretty floral clock displaying different times which I initially thought was of different countries. Apparently they were a schedule of prayers, particularly the daily obligatory ones.

Prayer Hall

As it turned out, the prayer hall had a lot more in store. Aside from the head-to-toe shift in ornaments from the outside (not in a negative way, of course!), it sported the largest carpet there was and on the wall were the 99 names of Allah, in Arabic calligraphy. The place was essentially off-limits as well but there was still a path tourists could follow and, most importantly, taking photos was still allowed.

I wonder if Sia could handle these?

I could use all the superlative adjectives to describe everything my eyes were processing but I guess there’s no better way than to just let the photos do all the talking.

You should never miss visiting Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque when in Abu Dhabi Dubai for a few days (flew there for only ₱9,358.58). You just shouldn’t. Herewith is Gary and Min, the company that I’m very thankful for for that day. We were in the building complex for almost two hours, with me and Min heading to the lovely Emirates Palace afterwards and Gary going back ahead to Dubai to climb Burj Khalifa.

Tips

• Check the complex’s operating hours, especially when going there on your own #DIY and not on a tour. You wouldn’t wanna be very excited to visit Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque only to find out that it’s closed during your time in Abu Dhabi.
• It’s common knowledge that there’s a dress code. Men should avoid shorts and sleeveless shirts while women should cover most of their skin. If for some reason you can only wear any of the prohibited clothes or even after not doing so they still deem a part of your OOTD inappropriate, they have cloaks (nope, not like Harry’s) for both genders as already mentioned.
• Having said those, that doesn’t mean that you can actually wear the skimpiest of clothes. You’re in a holy place so be respectful and dress suitably.
• As far as I know, you can always ask to wear the traditional clothing even if you’re already properly dressed. If it won’t cause you discomfort, go for it for the experience. It’ll also make all the difference in your photos.
• There may be guided tours throughout the day so watch out for them to learn more about the building complex.
• IMO, visiting in the afternoon is the most ideal. It couldn’t be as hot as the rest of the day and you can stay past sunset to witness the complex transform when it becomes illuminated at night. I bet those reflecting pools do wonders!
• Food and drinks are verboten so to avoid the Hunger Games you might wanna refuel ahead if you intend to stay inside for a couple of hours.

Behind the Scenes

When it was time to share photos I found out that Min had snaps of me shooting this and that. The first on the list was my being a selfie lord. What can I say!? Selfie!

Then there were those that captured my earnestness in capturing the courtyard and ceilings, as if I had the most expensive camera that doesn’t deserve mediocrity.

Lastly, that moment when a family asked me to take their photo was also not spared. BTS was so good that I look like I actually know how to use a DLRS DSLR. Say “Cheese~!”

Visited: November 2017

The post The Splendor of Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi appeared first on Itinerant.

It was during one of those family outings after the holidays that I knew of and visited Bao-Bao Falls in our neighboring province of Surigao del Sur. Checking out new places is staple for me so when the destination came up it didn’t even take me a second to jump at the idea. “Don’t go chasing waterfalls,” TLC said. Why heed such advice, right?

Transportation

Getting to Bao-Bao Falls is as easy as ABC. You just have to teleport transport yourself to the barangay of Diatagon in Lianga, Surigao del Sur. Tandag-bound buses from Agusan del Sur can bring your arse there. You will then have to look for the junction, from the national highway, that leads to your destination.

Or you can simply ask a local on how to get to it. If you happen to ask one who doesn’t have the answer, s/he must’ve been living under a rock. When coming from Butuan, you can reach Diatagon via the Awa Junction, which opens up the opportunity to biga at visit Bega Falls.

The Waterfall

The main swimming area of Bao-Bao Falls didn’t feature a high vertical drop but the plunge pool was still deep enough for anyone who thinks they’re tall enough. Ahem. “Bao” means “turtle” in Bisaya so the name of the waterfall could pertain to something related to a turtle, like its shape. I didn’t see any resemblance to any part of a turtle, though, and didn’t ask anyone either so… Beats me. (Don’t even think about turtles being present there.)

The waterfall had a slide; cliff jumping from the top of it wasn’t that enticing. Even so, there was a rock that allowed jumping from a higher elevation. If it gets crowded below, there’s no other way but up!

Climbing to the rock also led to the higher tier of Bao-Bao falls where there were swimming pools whose depth also didn’t disappoint.

Pools were at nooks and crannies and it was so relaxing being in them that, contrary to what I usually do, I no longer explored further to where the water was coming from. Only few people were curious enough to check what was upstairs so I didn’t have to share the Jacuzzis at all. #blessed

Nope, t’is not the Oblation Run.

And then it was high time for a cliff jump. Cowabunga!

Amenities

There were no cottages around the waterfall so all tourists just settled on the rocks (sadly without any whiskey, though) in the surrounding area. Totally not an issue, especially that bringing food and beverages was allowed—no corkage, y’all! It also follows that there were no changing rooms. Having said that, there were actually restrooms. They may not have been around the waterfall as well, but hey! If you need to take a dump, there’s that special place for ya.

Walking to Bao-Bao Falls from the road is a walk in the park because the local government unit already paved a walkway to it. Unlike when taking the stairs to Bega Falls, it was senior citizen-friendly. No worries to bring everyone, mate.

Tips

• When going to Britania in San Agustin for some island hopping, Bao-Bao Falls is the stopover you never thought you could have.
• When coming from Butuan and taking the Awa Junction to Lianga, Bega Falls is another stopover you never thought you could have, especially when on a private vehicle.

Visited: January 2016

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It was a little more than a quarter to 1:00 AM when I descended to one of the platforms in 5th Avenue/53rd Street Station and started waiting for a train. I was capping off my fourth day of solo travel with a wide grin after the person I asked to take a photo of me at the Top of the Rock (tripods were prohibited!) *insert adverb of your choice* nailed it. The only problem? I wanted to cross the Brooklyn Bridge that late but needed to take a dump. And as you ought to know, New York is not a place for public toilets.

It was around 30 minutes later when I was on my way to the World Trade Center Station, hoping to make it back to Brooklyn in one piece. Fortunately, my shitty predicament (obviously no pun intended there) was banished to the Ministry of Magic in due course as the station had a restroom. (If you’re not a Harry Potter fan, I’m not even sorry for that analogy.) For being a terminal station on the rail system that goes to New Jersey, that must be why the loo was still open. What a relief, it was!

The World Trade Center Station was also where I wound up on my first day in New York and it was also in the wee hours of the morning, but that’s gonna be for another shitty story (not literally this time). The point of mentioning it was to establish that I already shot myself with the utopic interior of the Oculus, the main station house, as seen from one of the balconies.

Before my ungodly-hour walk to the Brooklyn Bridge, I took photos of the station’s exterior—something I didn’t do in detail on day one—and its neighboring buildings, namely the One World Trade Center and Spotify’s.

I was actually in Lower Manhattan the day before, but for not having planned my day and route, I didn’t realize at all that the Oculus was just in the neighborhood. That was after my first attempt at taking dreamy pictures of the Brooklyn Bridge while crossing it. I had all the intention of getting to the bridge before daybreak but it’s always the toughest for me to get up at my earliest when the weather’s freezing my balls.

As I leisurely made my way to the hybrid cable-stayed/suspension bridge, I came across St. Paul’s Chapel, the New York City Hall, and the Surrogate’s Court again.

At 23 minutes past two, I started strutting down the runway to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was desolate in a post-apocalyptic kind of way, the utmost opposite of how it was in the morning of the previous day. Not long I spotted the familiar lights of a police car, making me sigh, and someone on a bicycle.

When crossing the bridge to Brooklyn at night, you have to turn around at some point to ogle the city lights of the Financial District and wish you could take away some of its moolah.

With the bridge’s stone towers and multitude of suspender cables, I just had to stop from time to time to take pictures and savor the sight. Twelve minutes after I started my modeling career on the elevated promenade, I did my first bid with my tripod. ‘Course there also had to be a selfie.

Sixteen minutes before three, after many attempts at holding my breath and not budging from the moment the timer starts until the phone’s camera is done with its thing on night mode, I was super pleased with a shot and decided to finally call it a day.

Unbeknownst to no one, I managed to snap another one—with the fan-like thingamajigs that only God knows what they’re for—and it’s the sickest. As my very first corporate boss described it, it looks as if I’m about to fight the final boss in a video game.

Aside from the person pedaling, I only came across a single crossing soul. My night shift in the city that allegedly never sleeps paid off altogether, that’s for sure.

Tips

• Avoid the rush hour, be it in the morning or in the evening.
• Rely on a tripod. You can’t go wrong with it on a solo travel.
• If you’re not meticulous with the framing of your photos or don’t mind nuisances in the background (or actually prefer it that way), you can simply ask strangers to take pictures of you.
• If you know image editing and have all the time in the world, you can always purge people like what I did at the Parthenon.
• When going at night, make sure your camera can handle the dark. I was using a Huawei P30 (not the Pro); its night mode is astounding.

Visited: December 2019

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Only a few days after coming back from our seven-day trip to Palawan, I came across an AirAsia seat sale with an airfare that was less than half of how much our Cebu Pacific Air fare was. At only ₱485.62, I thought to myself, “Some buffets cost more than this and it’s already a round trip ticket, so why would I not steal it when it’s more delicious than food?” Assuming I ended up not boarding the flight to Puerto Princesa, the truth is it wouldn’t have hurt that much. Not the case, though, as I went on a solo travel to El Nido.

The flight was in a year’s time but I pretty much knew that I was gonna be doing it on my own since my companions wouldn’t be interested in visiting the same place they just visited the prior year. I still informed them anyway just so they wouldn’t accuse me of being a selfish prick. *shrugs*

Arrival

I was heading directly to El Nido and was staying at El Nido Sands Inn again so I had a van ride arranged. My flight landed before midday and as I remember it I only waited for a few minutes before I got my arse on the van and its engine started grumbling. At six o’clock, I was back on the balcony overlooking limestone cliffs and anchored boats.

Our itinerary during the aforementioned Palawan trip was jam-packed in that we were essentially always on the run. There was no reason to do the same since the experience was still fresh and I wasn’t staying on the island for the same number of days. With that, I didn’t really do any planning; I only looked forward to getting some sun and seawater in El Nido.

After settling in my room (I don’t have problems being in a dorm but I opted not to be in one this time around), I went out to check the nearest ATM, hunted dinner, and watched tables unfold on the beach and be swarmed by people. It’s either I have yet to have the habit of taking photos of my beverages then or it was simply a sober night. Tapping my back if it was the latter. Good job, self!

El Nido Island Hopping

Eating isn’t a priority when I travel so having breakfast in the form of bread and cheese spread was already a luxury. Island hopping tours in town go by the alphabet and since I already did a combination of Tours A and C, I wanted to go on Tours B and D. Unfortunately, the latter wasn’t as popular as the former and it was an off-peak season again so the inn’s attendant wasn’t able to find a group that I could join in.

In the end I landed on a group that was doing Tour A, with the destinations being Big Lagoon, Secret Lagoon, Shimizu Island, and Seven Commandos Beach. People were crawling because it was the National Heroes’ Day and the islands I already visited weren’t how I remember them. #DramaKing

Big Lagoon

Unlike when I did the bundled tour, it was high tide when we came to Big Lagoon so it was such a marvel being able to explore it on a boat. The fact that I was the only outcast in the group, though, silenced my desire to tell the boatmen to stay around for a bit for some swimming. Boo! Sucks to be a #shytype.

Secret Lagoon

I’m not even gonna bother with photos to the entrance of Secret Lagoon because people were smothering it, waiting for their turn to penetrate it get through. Crazy how it was only us when we were there the year before. I started mingling more with the group here and even snapped at them. Saw Megan and Mikael on our way out and, true enough, the guy was “ahead of me” with only one tabò.

Shimizu Island

I’m not actually sure if it was Shimizu Island where lunch was served but if our watermen stuck to Tour A’s destinations, then that must’ve been the island. The food was even more heavenly than the last time and, with me gurgling with bottles even while still on the boat, sobriety was already a thing of the past. Booyah!

While the water was crystalline like everywhere else, I didn’t enjoy snorkeling that much because, where we were, majority of the corals have already undergone bleaching. Ouchie!

Seven Commandos Beach

For being the last stop of many tours, it wasn’t surprising that many visitors were making the most of the water at Seven Commandos Beach before calling it a day. For having benches for reflection relaxation and a store for refreshments, who wouldn’t wallow, right?

The tree swing was restless this time.

There was redemption on the snorkeling activity as there was a lot to take in with the submerged scenery here. In fact, I was sightseeing too much underwater, away from everyone, without paying attention to the time that one of the boatmen eventually came looking for me. Sarry!

Late dinner and more Red Horse was at a deserted Marber’s Restobar (can’t believe I don’t have photos of what I devoured). Afterwards, I retired back to the balcony, in front of my laptop, and abandoned myself to the quaint night and the lights illuminating it.

Taraw Cliff Canopy Walk

I was to climb Taraw Cliff (never thought about doing it when I had company) the next day but due to an accident earlier that year the activity was prohibited. Having already set my mind for it, I succumbed to doing the Canopy Walk which was supposed to be an alternative.

At the end of the trail was a platform overlooking the bay. Alas, it wasn’t any close to the view from Taraw Cliff. But hey! It’s already very good if you’re someone who doesn’t have the stomach for climbing cliffs.

I was done with the activity in less than 20 minutes and it felt like I was ripped off. Then again, it could’ve been due to my long-legged legs me being the only tourist around. The activity’s very safe with the quality of the hanging bridges and metal walkways and stairs. If you’re someone whose adrenaline loves the likes of tying your junk to a bungee or throwing it off planes, though, you’ll definitely prefer actually climbing Taraw Cliff instead.

Got some banana-pineapple shake (sosyal) to counter the blazing sun on my way back and came home to an empty inn. The sight was quite melancholic.

Nacpan Beach

Past midday I hopped on a scooter (remembering Bantayan!) and made my way to Nacpan Beach, stopping by the sign to Nagkalit-kalit Falls despite not having the slightest intention of getting wet there. Being in a van previously, I didn’t remember the road from the highway being unpaved at all.

I brought my loaf and cheese spread and at around two o’clock feasted on it together with the pancit bam-i I ordered at the cottage where I was loafing, all the while watching noobs people play volleyball using a minuscule net. For not having the custom of photographing everything yet, I don’t have a single proof of the cold beer that was quenching me. Shame!

The water was low but as serene and unclouded as it was.

When the sun drew closer to half past four I walked towards the capes to relive the cult for perspectives, saying hi to furries along the way.

I was already nearing my journey’s end when scooters scooted past me, making me bang my head the way Sia sang it, for the reason that I could’ve done the same had I seen someone ride one on the beach beforehand.

Nacpan and Calitang Beach—the twin beaches—were naturally in a dry state because of the tide.

I then carried on to the headland at the farther end. During my my first visit, our group had to retreat and stop exploring further because my companions were lazy asses one of my companions got dizzy.

Quite some view below, right? Only that it would’ve been way better if my scooter was with the lot. #bitter

The vantage point from this cape was made more picturesque by the presence of a tree, making the cape reminiscent of where the Kirikos lived during the Hunter Exam. With the right coverage, a shot could look as if looking at the beach through a forest. Kabog!

Pictured on the top right below is the headland with a view of the twin beaches. Would you go this far?

I got reunited with my scooter and lambasted it for not taking me across the beach 37 minutes past five and was back on the balcony yet again before darkness completely swallowed the day. That night I had pasta again at the same restaurant where I dined on my first night. Clingy, I know.

Puerto Princesa

I was leaving El Nido after lunch so on my penultimate day I just took a dip in front of the inn and fraternized with boats. That was also the last time my Ricoh camera was seen alive. Who was I to know that water was already seeping through the bastard?

I visit churches when I get the chance when traveling so I did that as well. You gotta be thankful, you know.

I arrived at Dallas Inn in Puerto Princesa at 6:00 PM and found myself chitchatting with a Kiwi couple in the 8-bed mixed dorm room. I’ve always sucked at geography and capitals and my knowledge that Auckland is the capital of New Zealand (well, it used to be) was debunked. Pretty much the same when I only learned in Sydney that Canberra is the capital of Australia. Yeah, my whole life has been a lie.

Despite having four bottles of Pale Pilsens that night I still managed to publish more than a year’s worth of post on my personal blog following flipping another year. Or was it all thanks to the drive brought about by the no-holds-barred moans of the foreign couple who banged the night away? Such music to my ears, it was.

The same melancholy in El Nido crept in on my last day after waking up and seeing that everyone had already gone for the day. But with Rasty and Airen—the inn’s cordial attendants—around, the feeling fleeted. We connected on Facebook and I remember Rasty being very approving of people who do local tourism on their own. He had a handful of necklaces with shells as pendants and asked me to take some to give to loved ones.

The greatest takeaway of the trip? Always bring a photo that you can easily dispose. ‘Course I added an entry to the map on the board. Ako pa sad! #kumpetitib

Tips

• For being among the most coveted destinations in the Philippines both by locals and forangers, flights to Palawan are aplenty and could be very cheap at times.
• Solo travel to El Nido is a piece of cake as you can easily join other groups in island hopping tours. Some may even include a visit to Nacpan Beach and/or Nagkalit-kalit Falls.
• Tricycles are readily available should you wish to check out nearby places and don’t know how to handle a scooter or motorcycle.
• Go for an accommodation near the beach so you can chill out or go swimming if you feel like doing so, pronto.
• As usual, avoid holidays and weekends if you want to steer clear of the horde of tourists. The presence of many people, bundled with the nature of tides, could mean that some stops during island hopping may be skipped.
• If you’re flying to and from Puerto Princesa and have or can make extra time, try to squeeze in activities there.
• Most importantly, don’t be gloomy when it’s gloomy. It was all drizzly before I flew out of Manila so I anticipated the same in El Nido especially with the forecast. For that reason I brought a laptop to be busy with in case I’ll be stuck indoors because of the weather. Life really is like a box of chocolates as the sun was melting me good throughout the trip.

Expenses

Visited: August 2016

The post Going Solo in El Nido: An Itinerary appeared first on Itinerant.

After paying a visit to Nagkalit-kalit Falls and Nacpan Beach, we were back at El Nido Sands Inn before three o’clock and had ample time to rest and prepare for our fourth day in Palawan which involved nothing else but a good swim at Long Beach in San Vicente. Around two and a half hours later, we got the ball rolling for our transit.

Accommodation

After transferring to a different van at a junction and traversing a hardly lit road which wasn’t paved all throughout and seemingly didn’t pass any civilization, we arrived at Myrla’s Garden and Cottages in Barangay New Agutaya a little over half past seven. I was starving and was very glad that in less than an hour we were already called for dinner; we had squid, fish, and chicken afritada.

Our visit to the archipelagic province wasn’t at the peak of the summer months and San Vicente wasn’t on the same level as El Nido and Puerto Princesa in terms of popularity so it wasn’t surprising that we were the only guests around (well, AFAIR). We karaoke~d until midnight (maxed it, mate!) and, thanks to GSM Blue and Red Horse, even danced the night away in the open air outside our rooms. Alak pa!!!

The 14-Kilometer Beach

Twelve hours after dinner and seven hours after the gyrating, we had dried fish and eggs for breakfast. And I just feel the need to say that before leaving for Long Beach, I had an acquaintance…

Long Beach was only 500 meters away from Myrla’s Garden and Cottages. We entered through a path which had a sign of an entrance fee but since no one was around to collect it, we just gave the payment to ourselves. #kurap The beach was as bare as a newborn’s butt cheeks; where we were, there were no establishments at all.

How annoying can it get when you anticipate a very sweet panorama shot only to find out that someone bombed it?

The place was deserted like a desert but there was a bamboo table and a suspended bench supported by tires. I’m no stranger to my companions so, for the very first time and for a change, I decided to strip down to swimming trunks. Life’s too short not to try on new fabrics for other people to see, right? You will always be judged anyway.

We lazed around, captured photos, and swam to the skies. The water was unbelievably crystal and overall the place reminded me of Nacpan Beach.

What if…I wear a fedora?

As far as our eyes could see, there were no other tourists who strut on the sugary white sand during our two-hour stay in Long Beach. Again, it could’ve been due to the off-peak season and the place not being as popular as other Palawan destinations yet. Also, given that Long Beach is said to be 14 kilometers long (allegedly making it the longest white sand beach in the Philippines) and has rocky headlands that interrupt the continuous expanse of its length, another possibility is that there were actually other tourists but they were in the other coves.

Monkey (D. Luffy) see, monkey do. The shot was blurry, though, as if MTRCB intercepted the shutter.

We had a very hectic schedule (artesta?) so we returned to Myrla’s at midday, just in time for lunch. Our ABS-CBN executive producer being constantly on the phone with a certain “Ms. Alma” instantly became a running joke since day one. At 3:00 PM, we were on the lookout for a bus going back to the capital.

Tips

• Long Beach spans multiple barangays of San Vicente so should you want to explore its entirety and you know how to ride a scooter, well, you now know what you can rent.
• While the part of the Long Beach that we were on had nothing was unspoiled, it wasn’t surprising that in reality, given its stretch, other parts of it already have beachfront resorts. As an emerging tourist destination, it could eventually become an alternative to Boracay.
• San Vicente is where Port Barton, a known Palawan destination, is so if you’re traveling from Puerto Princesa to El Nido or vice versa and plan to drop by, you can kill two birds with Long Beach as the other one.
• San Vicente has been made more accessible with the presence of an airport. Fly away!

Visited: August 2015

The post Longing for Long Beach in San Vicente, Palawan appeared first on Itinerant.

Prior to bungee jumping in Costa Rica I only had one such experience which was in Gunma alongside a Japan-based postgraduate classmate. It wasn’t what I hoped for for the reason that the elastic cord was attached to the waist and not to the ankles. (Choosy pa?) Nonetheless, it was still as fun and exhilarating. And oh, did I mention that on a cable car 143 meters high, at the time of writing jumping Monteverde Extremo Park’s is the highest bungee jump in all of Central America?

It was 20 minutes past two and I had just returned to the reception area of Monteverde Extremo Park after ziplining through the lush forests of Monteverde. By the way how I kept asking the receptionists, one could judge me infer how thrilled I was for my next activity, which I’d say stands next to skydiving.

Within ten minutes, those who were bungee jumping were called and off we went to meet the cable system. There were eight of us and they were loading the tram with a maximum of five persons including two guides so we were divided into—do the math, honey. The first to go was an Indian couple and apparently they were doing the Tarzan swing as well.

Icebreaker

When the tram reached the heart of the valley, I made my way to the observation platform to get a perspective of how crazy the shit’s gonna be. After seeing the two lose a portion of their breaths, my I’m-already-here-so-might-as-well-do-it disposition took over like a poltergeist that I came back to the rest of the group with an additional wristband indicating that I’m also doing the Tarzan swing.

I was going in with a Canadian couple and while waiting for the first group a handful of conversations transpired, which included me sharing to everyone how “disastrous” my first bungee jump was. Also…

Someone (to the couple): Where are you guys from?
Couple: Canada.
American woman: Fucking Canadians.
Everyone: *laughing*
Canadian guy: That’s the first time I heard that!

The icing on the cake was the presence of another Filipino who was accompanying his workmate who was also doing the jump! Dunno why he didn’t jab me at all when my jersey was literally bellowing “Pilipinas”, but when his companion gave him away, I jumped the gun and was delighted to know that despite having moved to the United States their household is still using Tagalog.

Bungee Extremo

At 18 minutes past three, my ankles were already bound while the cable car was settling between the mountains. I was the first sacrifice and without any fuss, was already on the edge of the platform about to throw my life away. If there’s one thing I learned about leaping off things such as cliff jumping, it would be to jump off as soon as you can; the more you prolong being on the edge, the more your legs will wiggle the way Jason Derulo sang his song. (Unless we’re on a different context, of course.) In fact, the guides only had two things to say:

1. If you have acrophobia (they didn’t actually use the term; too fancy), don’t look down and just look ahead.
2. Without looking down, jump forward as far as you can!

There was a GoPro mounted on the helmet and another one held by one of the guides. I wasn’t going home without any proof souvenir of the activity so paying extra for the video was out of the question. Still, I asked the Canadian couple if they didn’t mind recording my jump on my phone. They obliged and later on I was more than happy to return the favor.

Oh, yeah, about the actual jump. I didn’t save a second when the guides’ countdown ended in that I immediately plunged into the valley. Remember: He who hesitates is lost! As usual, I was howling at the top of my lungs. It’s an extreme sport, for Pete’s sake. You’re not supposed to stay quiet! If I find free fall to be the best part of skydiving, for bungee jumping it would have to be the recoil, particularly the first ones. *fist pump*

I mean, why wouldn’t you pay for a video, right? Aberrant Titan in the house!

Video

A massive shoutout to Gyom for the music!

My being “off the hook” (you need to fasten yourself to another cord to be pulled up) lasted for almost a minute and, from the moment I jumped, it was just about two minutes and 40 seconds until I got back on the platform. Time does fly jump, doesn’t it?

Here’s me feelin’ thee vibe~! #muntanga #hithitPa

Extreme Tarzan

Monteverde Extremo Park’s Canopy Tour was essentially ziplining across canopies in Monteverde and already included a Tarzan swing. I didn’t research enough to know about the latter so when the hostel attendant told me about it, I was swayed on my decision to do the Extreme Tarzan and only booked the Canopy Tour and bungee jump.

But as I already mentioned, I became adamant about the Extreme Tarzan swing again by just seeing the first group being transported by the tram to the middle of the valley. My company wasn’t doing the activity so they were more than happy I was more than eager to ask them to record me again.

I guess there’s only one way to describe the Extreme Tarzan swing: It absolutely felt like my body left my soul, which is the opposite of how it should theoretically be. If you’re doing the activity and not shouting your lungs out, I will judge you as the most lifeless thing on the sole planet that allegedly harbors life.

Unfortunately, no video was taken from the guides’ GoPro as they didn’t coordinate with each other. After initially faking my release, I was easily let go as if my feelings didn’t matter while the countdown was still at three! The guyde (see what I did there?) on the right was still preparing the action camera but I was already “Tarzaning” away.

Me: Do you need to countdown or something?
Guide: Yes. 3, 1!
Me: *leaves soul behind*

As for the recording on my phone, it was fortuitously cut a split second after I started baying. The Canadian lady was apologetic about it but who was I to complain when—and she knows it herself—her video of my bungee jump was badass? And so that left me with the footage of the GoPro on my helmet, which will make you realize that my pores are clearer than your future. So… Nope, taking a pass on showing that one for now. The entire swinger activity took around four minutes.

I snapped a photo with my group in my good-morning hair (thanks to the helmet) and, while it didn’t materialize because of how busy the season was (or simply because it was only a spur of the moment), it was very nice of them to offer swinging me around Niagara Falls on my freezing visit to Canada the following month. At five minutes past five we were back on land and wished the third group, which was almost overtaken by another group, good luck.

I took one last look from the observation deck to relive what just panned out, before bustling excitedly to secure a copy of my files.

Tips

• Check with Monteverde Extremo Park on the weight requirements. We can’t afford any disappointment, can we?
• The first item on the two-item list above. It will help!
• Don’t prolong your agony and just jump off that damn tram.
• Like when skydiving, try not to close your eyes as you dive head first. Savor it.
• If your stomach really can’t take it no matter how hard you attempt to get your ass off the platform, you might consider having the guides just push you hold you while you lean forward and then let them release you at their disposal. Okay, that might not have sounded encouraging but you get the point. It was like that in Gunma. You just gotta do it, bruh.
• Bundled tours can be cheaper, so I would’ve saved some bucks if I booked the three activities—Canopy Tour, Bungee Extremo, and Extreme Tarzan—from the start. Ho(s)tels can also do the booking on your behalf and sometimes could further slash the price.

Expenses

Visited: November 2019

The post Bungee Jumping in Costa Rica: Monteverde Extremo Park appeared first on Itinerant.

It was my penultimate day in town and after taking things to greater heights at Monteverde Extremo Park, joining a night walk, and getting a visit from white-faced monkeys at Que Tuanis, I could’ve just stayed at the hostel and lazed around. But then, the front desk attendant, who ended up calling me Josh during my stay (and I just let her because who knows if I was a Josh in another life), told me to visit the Ficus tree in Monteverde.

So what is a Ficus tree? Welp, thought you’d never ask! Actually, it was also the first time that I learned of such a thing. (A thing!)

A Ficus tree, also known as a strangler fig, is among the plants that grow on the surface of another plant. Ever heard of orchids? However, unlike orchids, this fig continuously grows upward for sunlight while its roots go downward, ultimately enveloping and strangling the host tree after making contact with the ground. The original tree sometimes dies, leaving the Ficus tree hollow and on its own.

Remembering Science classes, the Ficus tree and host tree have a symbiotic relationship of commensalism, but unbeknownst to the latter, it can transition into a form of parasitism. Traidor! It’s like being betrayed by someone you used to snuggle with all the time.

I was told of two Ficus trees in particular—a hollow strangler fig as described above and another which takes the form of a bridge. After Googling photos of them, I knew I just had to pay a courtesy call on the Ficus tree bridge even if looking for it eats my entire day that I can no longer check out the other one.

Ficus Tree Bridge

The hostel attendant’s instructions to turn right, from the road, to a narrow path was crystal but I was having a hard time looking for it. Fortunately there was a local nearby so I whipped out Google Translate, keyed in “tree bridge”, and went ahead with:

“Buenos dias! Tengo una pregunta. Donde esta el puente de arbol?”

He pointed me to the path and even waited for me to find it. At seven minutes past ten I started making my way through the woodland, followed the trail, and walked and walked and walked…

Until I came across a sign four minutes later which read:

“Do not pass. There’s a crazy man with a gun.”

For not having seen any sign of life at all apart from the greenery, I immediately turned on my heel and guided myself back, though in retrospect it was essentially just a message indicating that it’s a private property. And that’s when I remembered another instruction: Once you hit the river after going down the path from the highway, follow it downstream to the right where the Ficus tree bridge awaits.

Sure, I Googled it beforehand, but it was still nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Otherworldly, it was. From the looks of it, it indeed seemed to have grown on a fallen comrade. With no one else around, I scampered for my tripod and went for the kill. It was the first time I brought it so an experimentation naturally ensued; I hurriedly took multiple shots from different angles in fear that someone might come and spoil the moment and make things #awkward.

I crossed to the other side to test if it was a portal that’ll whisk me away to its origin but immediately there was a drop so I could only do so much. Still feeling dissatisfied, I tried other angles and eventually found one that fit the entire tree in the frame. I was fucking sold. I wallowed there for roughly 30 minutes and no one else arrived. Huzzah!

Hollow Ficus Tree

Hiking to the other Ficus tree wasn’t the easiest as I, after looking it up on Google Maps to be “El Arbor Hueco / Ficus Tree”, found myself on a continuously steep road. I’m not one to whine but I was definitely gasping for air. The Monteverde Cloud Forest Lodge signage was my landmark; there was a path leading into the unknown woods across it.

Before long I came across a strangler fig in all its erect glory. I’m very certain I’ll never see a wormhole in this fleeting life but from its base I would like to describe it as one (if not a monster’s orifice, that is). It was a thing of beauty.

During my hookup with this Ficus tree a Dutch woman lady girl and an American couple came by, with the guy remarking that he thought a monkey left its backpack on the ground. (Do tell!) Like many Caucasians, they hardly took photos and didn’t stay long so I was once again saved from being seen as a loner, desperately aspiring for good and emotional dramatic photos.

It also gave me a chance to scale the tree again. Went up as high as I could with my good old pal and spent another 30 minutes in total including the second photo shoot of the day.

At the hostel that night I met a Swedish couple who thought I was a photographer (ano ba!) after seeing me browse a million photos on my laptop and phone. When the guy caught a glimpse of the Ficus tree bridge, I learned that they looked for it, came across the warning sign as well, and was about to follow the river but gave up because it was already getting dark. They were leaving at first light so the regret on their faces was beyond doubt when I told them that it was only a few steps away had they pursued it.

Tips

• Visiting these Ficus trees is one of the things you shouldn’t miss when in Monteverde on a trip to Costa Rica because it’s free. If the hollow Ficus tree also sits on a private property, though, there’s a chance that this might totally change. After all, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
• The structure of a hollow strangler fig makes climbing it as easy as pie. You just have to be careful when you’re on your own or when it’s wet (why are a handful of things dangerous when wet anyway). Better yet, if your monkey instinct tells you not to ascend, then don’t.
• You could actually also climb and be on the Ficus tree bridge. I didn’t go for it because I was already euphoric ogling it from the ground and there was also no point if my intention was to take photos using the tripod.
• I was told later on by the hostel attendant that I was lucky no one stole my things while I was climbing the Ficus tree. In other cases, cars parked outside of the woods are broken into through the windows.
• Furthermore, I was informed that I was in fact at the wrong Ficus tree, as there was a bigger and hollower one. The one you should be seeking is the one below, courtesy of Danielle and Anna. You could climb it all the way up to the canopy. All was still good for me, though, thanks to the Ficus tree bridge. But I wonder if the Dutch and the Americans knew that we were at the wrong one?

Visited: December 2019

The post Climbing the Ficus Tree / Strangler Fig in Monteverde appeared first on Itinerant.

Thanks to how the Internet has evolved, people are learning about things that have been under their noses all along. For instance, it was only until travel blogs were ubiquitous and social media was rampant with misinformation that I became aware of Bega Falls, located in the municipality just next to my hometown in the province of Agusan del Sur. Better late than never, I guess?

“Let’s go to Bega Falls tomorrow!” expressed a classmate during an afternoon trip to Pugad Beach—the only beach we had back in the day—in Surigao del Sur. Having had my fare share of drinks already, the declaration fell between “Let’s do it!” and “Sure, as long as everyone remembers it and wakes up on time tomorrow.”

The next thing I knew, I was packing stuff after groggily reading a message that we were supposed to have left 50 minutes ago.

Transportation

As the future is nothing but uncertainties, at the time of writing getting on a flight to Butuan is the quickest way for you to biga at Bega Falls. Other options are the airports in and Surigao and Davao. Unless you’re taking the route from Surigao which doesn’t pass through Butuan, the point where you need to get off when taking public transportation is at Awa Junction (intersection) located in Prosperidad. It’s around 1.5 hours from Butuan and farther when coming from Davao.

If you’re taking public transportation all the way, there should be motorcycles known as “habal-habal” at Awa that can take you to Bega Falls which is part of Barangay Mabuhay. These rides are notorious for rough roads but you can bet on your sorry ass that there’s not gonna be any of it as there’s already a concrete road network all the way to the stairs.

Unlike the day before, the mastermind of the trip didn’t bring the kids so it was only her husband and our other classmate who was also around the day before and was probably as oblivious as I was earlier that day. I think I was the only first-timer. The couple had a car and from Awa, we made a wrong left turn which became evident when the road was no longer paved. We still asked a kid anyway.

Mastermind: Dong, mangutana unta mi. Diri ba ang paingon Bega?
Kid: Dili uy! Didto pa sa unahan!

The correct left was at the next three-way intersection. Watch out for any sign that mentions “Bega Falls” but if there’s no sign and your gut is telling you that that’s it, ask someone before turning 90°. From the right (the definition which means “correct” and not the direction) turn was a 15-minute drive to the entrance to Bega Park & Resort.

Orientation

There was no other group when we arrived and first things were first: “Is drinking allowed and is there a store where we can buy something to drink?” The answer to both was a no, leaving us with the whatnots we grabbed from a 7-Eleven. Because in essence it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, our preparations were the complete opposite of what we had for Pugad Beach.

The orientation was primarily on wildlife preservation and the mandatory rental of cottage and life vests. It also turned out that children under a certain age were not allowed.

On our way to the car for a five-minute (approximately) ride to the actual gateway to Bega Falls, another group materialized with children who looked like they were under the age limit. It didn’t look like they won’t be allowed to go to the falls, though. Also, one of them ditched renting a life vest as she claimed that she won’t go swimming. Hmm… Don’t me!

Stairway to Falling

The point where vehicles become inferior to lazy humans are at the top of the stairs leading to the waterfalls. What immediately caught my attention was a notice which stipulated that only “excessive drinking of liquor” is prohibited. I knew it! Not that I had a single drop with me but you get the point.

The steps were supposed to be around 400 but I didn’t count to confirm it because there are much more important things in life. Still, it doesn’t hurt so feel free to do so when you get there and let me know?. It was a walk in the park since it was literally all downhill (alam na!). You just need to be careful with each step especially when it’s wet. In less than ten minutes we were at the foot of our the stairs.

The Waterfalls

Bega Falls is essentially a tiered waterfall, described as those that have more than one level or tier but are close enough to be seen together from one vantage point. There’s gotta be more than three tiers, but as of this writing these three are the most accessible and have amenities in the form of concrete cottages and restrooms.

The first waterfall was deserted. We would’ve been told upfront if it weren’t the case, but I was really glad that the water was clear despite the weather. It’s not like there was a downpour every single day prior to our visit, but you never know when Mother Nature decides to be a bitch and turn the water brown, right? It was actually drizzling when we came on the scene but after seeing the vodka water I couldn’t have cared less if it suddenly rained cats and dogs.

Our crosshair was on the topmost waterfall so it was immediately exit stage left for us after taking a snap.

Level 3

On our short walk to the third level (I’ll stick to this term and abandon “tier” hereon) we caught a glimpse of the second level. When we reached the coveted waterfall, I was blown away (in a wholesome way) by its monstrosity. It was ginormous and definitely living up to its name.

Now, where did Bega Falls get its name? I had to do some reading and while there are multiple versions of the folklore, it all goes down to a woman’s (fairy’s, in others) seduction. (Seductress ang peg ng lola niyo.) “Biga” is the easy translation of “flirt” in our mother tongue. That was also the first word that popped into my head the first time I heard the name even without knowing any legend pertaining to the waterfalls. But if you ask me, I would say that “lust” is a more appropriate translation. It’s more lubricous.

bigaon: lusftful

We weren’t able to get a cottage near the vertical drop because they were all occupied. But heck, we could’ve just settled on the rocks for all I care! I checked out the restroom, stripped to my swimming gear, and soberly munched whatever everyone had because it was already half past midday and we were hungreh.

There was a lookout for visitors but he wasn’t reprimanding those who were swimming without life vests. We were, however, told off that we have to pay for the bamboo raft tethered to a wire if we want to pull ourselves on it to the heart of the cold-hearted plunge pool. Being the close-fisted folks that we were (“baksidor”, as we would call it), we turned down the offer since we all know how to swim anyway.

Video

I wanted to stay longer but since our arrival wasn’t the earliest and Bega Falls had more to offer, a quarter before two o’clock we descended to the lower level. Oh, oh! I wouldn’t skip mentioning that before we went back to our cottage and left, the people cleared up so we managed to score photobomb-free shots showcasing how minuscule humans look next to the waterfall! (Yes, I’m this ecstatic when it comes to these things.)

Can you spot the woman who has her back on the camera?

Level 2

We didn’t backtrack and took a different path to get to the next level and the only presence that greeted us was that of another lookout. It felt surreal having the place just to ourselves. There were two visibly separated cascades on this level (twinning, anyone?) and the edge of their basin was overlooking the first waterfall that we skipped.

Kayaks were available and were most probably for rent but I’m not really into them so I never even thought about asking if they really were. At this point it made sense why renting a cottage is mandatory—each level has its own set of cottages and the payment encompasses the use of any of them. It would be problematic, though, when there’s a horde of visitors and some aren’t able to use what they paid for.

Level 1

Reverting to the first level, we also followed a different trail. There was one group when we arrived but none of them were swimming. Similar to the previous levels, this one had a deep and very swimmable plunge pool. Don’t let that scare you if you ain’t a swimmer, as the compulsory rental of life vests is highly unlikely gonna go away.

Like in the preceding waterfall, the preceding waterfall was visible from this level, clearly putting up Bega Falls in the ranks of tiered waterfalls. (I know, waterfall overload there.)

It shouldn’t be surprising since it’s a forest but I was still amazed after seeing another exhibit (pardon the misspelling on it) of its fauna. Lots of snakes there, creatures that have always freaked me out and possibly the form a Boggart would take if I were to encounter one.

Ascent

With the hundreds of steps fully going downwards to get to the waterfalls, reality must’ve been warped by Wanda Maximoff if by the time you return it’s not the complete opposite. If you’ve been skipping leg day, it’s not gonna be easy even with landing stations with benches for resting. A kid had a temper tantrum that he was throwing “Yeah, right!” at his mother each time she says that they’re almost there. No pain, no gain, kiddo! I won’t deny that it was really amusing to watch while realizing how hard it would be for senior citizens. I was panting like a bitch dog.

On our way back to San Francisco we stopped by a restaurant called Tikyo and filled the void of a hunger deep within. A decent meal, at least! Had to give the place a negative review, though, as the reply was in the negative when I asked, “Do you have beer?”

Tips

• Prosperidad is more known as “Bah-Bah” (yes, with the h’s there) so if you don’t wanna sound touristy, you could use it instead when telling the conductor or driver where you’re headed.
• As far as I’m concerned, “junction” isn’t widely used so when you mention it when asked where you’re getting off and they pull their eyebrows together, use “crossing” instead i.e. “Awa Crossing in Bah-Bah”.
• The road from Awa leads to a fork to Surigao del Norte and Surigao del Sur so if you’re having a sort of Mindanao tour and from Butuan intend to visit at least one of those provinces, dropping by Bega Falls wouldn’t hurt.
• Another road leading directly to the first waterfall was under construction so by the time that it’s finished the stairs’ popularity might start declining. Unless people are in for a leg day, of course!
• As with any other waterfall (shoutout to Igpasungaw and Nagkalit-kalit), there will be days when the flow of water is small-scale and days when the water isn’t crystal.

Expenses

Visited: November 2020

The post Visiting Bega Falls in Prosperidad, Agusan del Sur appeared first on Itinerant.

This trip was part of my repatriation; I won’t beat around the bush and will be blunt that to fully enjoy a Pacific Coast Highway road trip in one day, you have to do it in more than just a day. Did that make sense? I do hope so. Then again, if you really need to traverse it in such a short period, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re no longer in for some stopovers.

Oxnard

Within an hour after leaving Los Angeles we were at Oxnard Beach Resort, appreciating the fine sand and watching people swarm it. An oil drilling platform visible from the coast gave rise to a conversation on the nitty-gritty of offshore drilling since Joey, a Sugar Land-based high school classmate introduced in the abovementioned post, works in the oil industry. *rolls eyes—kidding!* It came as no surprise that I was able to interject Clarke’s hunt for the last Nightblood because apparently he also watches The 100.

Would’ve taken a quick dip if the situation allowed it. Necktime!

Santa Barbara

After about an hour we arrived in Santa Barbara, a coastal town city which I found rather quaint and silent (could’ve been just due to the timing). As unenticing that may have sounded, Joey actually considered the place to be ideal for retirement. (There’s no accounting for taste, brotha.) We parked in front of El Presidio Real de Santa Barbara and just walked to the downtown to grab kaffee. Google Maps failed me (nope, it wasn’t me) in that we initially walked away from our destination. (Boo! You only had one job, Nelson!)

The buildings had a vibe of those in movies where kingpins reside and it’s just a matter of time before an exchange of gunshots between the henchmen and the police transpires. Also, flags that had the color of Spain’s gave a feeling that we weren’t in California.

On top of something to drink, Joey also bought some Turkish sweets and it was inevitable—since he becomes a cooker in his spare time—that he critique them. Of course, everything was a no for him. ‘Kaw na!

Solvang

At a quarter past one o’clock we arrived in Solvang. Boy, that city was pretty! Its buildings were simply ogle material! Known as the Danish Capital of America and “Little Denmark”, it was founded in 1911 by three Danish-American educators in hopes of preserving and protecting Danish heritage in their adopted homeland. The name is Danish for “sunny field”. (O, ha! May pa-trivia si mayor!)

Not captured in the photos but the place was crawling with people so it must’ve been worse if there was no virus lurking. We were to have a quick bite so while we were at it, I hunted down booze.

Google Maps led us to a non-existent bar (another failure from the tech giant), though, that we had to retrace our steps to look for a place with available seating. At this point it was evident that oldie Joey was already getting impatient. (Nah, like most my age, he admitted that he’s already at the point where not having enough sleep makes him dysfunctional.) We ended up at a tavern where the bastard condemned me as follows:

Joey: We’re supposed to be in Denmark, yet here we are at an Irish pub.
Me (in my head): The nerd nerve! You were a ticking time bomb, @$$#073!

We’re actually close, but, you know, he had all the reasons to be ticked off because he was the one driving all the way and he didn’t want to arrive late in San Francisco. In other words, those pejoratives were actually terms of endearment.

As we were munching our late lunch (it was required in the state, by the way, to buy food for you to be able to buy anything alcoholic), he suggested that we vidjakol video-call Naiza, a high school classmate. That lifted the mood; she and another classmate eventually accompanied us, as long as the signal permitted it, throughout the rest of the trip.

Big Sur

We set off a quarter-hour before three and it was as clear as vodka that we were no longer having city or town stopovers and would instead savor the scenic stretch with ocean views and seaside cliffs.

Our nosiness got the best of us almost half past five when we saw people in a shoulder road on the opposite side. It was worth the stop. The overlooking view showcased people surfing and a family which looked like they were looking for the perfect spot for a picnic on the beach.

Around an hour later we were helping ourselves to our takeaways from lunch and gassed up one more time where Joey was so ecstatic on how compact-looking the gasoline station at Ripplewood Resort was. (He digs oil for a living, remember?) K, pagbigyan!

Bixby Creek Bridge

Before getting to our final stop-off, the following weren’t left unnoticed: a plateau by the sea which looked like a fortress ready to take on any adversary, a shoreline where I could roll onto in a heartbeat, and sunlight seeping through clouds as if it was the day the Earth stood still for judgment day.

The funny silly thing was, I read in a blog post that there are two bridges. And from what I understood, they look the same so I no longer took the trouble of looking the other one up. When we passed Bixby Creek Bridge and it didn’t look like the photos I saw online, I thought it wasn’t the real deal so I suggested that we check out the next one instead.

Turns out they don’t look the same. At all. I was about to just give it up since it might further irk the driver but since they weren’t far from each other, Joey decided to maneuver the wheels Fast & Furious style and went back to burn the damn bridge. When I saw people—not water—under the bridge, I imagined that virtually all of Big Sur is probably hikeable.

We left at 10:00 AM and, including all stops, spent almost 12 hours on the road. Definitely not fun when you’re the only one driving (not that I was!) unless you’re used to it. From then on it was all about the Golden Gate City.

Tips

• Leave at your earliest so you can maximize stopovers and your duration in them.
• Research how long it takes from one point to another and carefully plan what to do at every stopover and for how long.
• A spare driver is valuable if the designated driver is not used to or comfortable with long drives. If there is none, the previous items should give the sole soul driving an idea of what to anticipate (and be angry about).
• This is out of context because it would then be at least two days, but if it’s the case, consider staying for a night in Solvang. (That should’ve been an exclamation mark there.)
• We were already pressed for time so I don’t have many, but take time to take photos in different angles from both sides of Bixby Creek Bridge after crossing it! You may have to compete with many sightseers, though.
• Be realistic in your planning. I originally had a long list but in the end we only ticked four. (Four, for the love of Pete!)
• As there’s more than one way to skin a cat, at the end of the day your stopovers still depend on the routes you’ll be taking and how much time you’re willing to invest on a Pacific Coast Highway road trip in one day.

Visited: August 2020

The post Pacific Coast Highway Road Trip in One Day: Los Angeles to San Francisco appeared first on Itinerant.

The story of my repatriation to the Philippines begins with the reopening of Juan Santamaria International Airport and the only way of getting back to the land of promise being through the US, particularly Houston where our high school valedictorian by the name of Joey was wrecking havoc. After my Spirit Airlines flight got rescheduled and cancelled at least twice and the airline postponed the resumption of their operations to Houston, I conceded to flying with United Airlines. From there I was to fly to Manila through Taipei via EVA Air.

Acronyms

Before telling the rest of the tale, let’s equip you with Philippine-related acronyms that you’ll see later (if you survive that far, that is) in this post.

BOQ Bureau of Quarantine
LGU Local Government Unit (could be municipal or provincial level)
LSI Locally Stranded Individual
MECQ Modified Enhanced Community Quarantine
OFW Overseas Filipino Worker
PAL Philippine Airlines
PNP Philippine National Police
ROF Returning from Overseas Filipinos

Heredia

Even before boarding my first flight, my Houston–Manila itinerary had already been “tampered” in that the Taipei–Manila leg was no more, most likely due to the rising cases of COVID-19 in the Philippines. I asked EVA Air if it was possible for me to just stay in Taipei and wait for the next available flight to Manila but eventually even the Houston–Taipei flight was cancelled. Meh. With the airline’s advice that even if I rebook it it might ultimately be cancelled as well, I decided that I’ll no longer fly out of Houston.

Like what a compatriot who took a United Airlines flight to Houston said, there was no temperature check before boarding the flight. The flight was full and there was also no temperature check upon arrival. What pandemic?

Houston

Immigration Officer: What are you doing in Houston?
Me: I’ll be staying here for three days then fly out from San Francisco on the 12th.
Immigration Officer: *stamps six months*

I was supposed to have nine days in Houston ’til my flight to Manila if we didn’t pursue our original plan of going out of town. But that wasn’t really the case since we really had a plan even if the pandemic wasn’t getting any better. What’s a long layover stopover for, right? Anywhere was fine with me but when Joey suggested that we go to California since he hasn’t been to San Francisco yet, that was also the cue that I take a direct PAL flight from there to Manila.

Our first order of business after he fetched me from George Bush Intercontinental Airport was—wait for it—Jollibee. (So fetch, right?) I was to stay with him and his Filipino colleague and before I started my journey more than halfway around the world by A*Teens, I absolutely made it clear with him if they’re totally okay with me staying over for a couple of days given that I could contract the coronavirus before or during my flight. To think that I’ve never met his housemate!

When we arrived at their place, I was welcomed by Jane as if there was more than a hundred percent certainty that I wasn’t harboring the culprit behind COVID-19. An alumna of the same university that I and Joey graduated from, she was very cool and I must say that I felt from her the “vibe” that some of my friends claim. (Wow, you a psychology psychologist or something now, Nelsen?)

After putting down my things (and seeing the Amazon items I addressed to their address, gehee), we feasted on the food from home and had wine and cheese afterwards. When I needed a paper towel, Jane grabbed one and the following conversation transpired.

Jane (to Joey): Is he afraid of COVID?
Me: Not really. *grabs the towel from her*

That made me realize the accuracy of Joey’s reassurances that she’s also perfectly fine with my presence for a few days. Besides, I was in no position at all to answer in the affirmative (and not that I would). I could’ve been a carrier, for Chrissake!

I shared the same thought as the two scientists that while the media is focusing on the number of COVID-19 cases as they unfold, causing panic, the people should look into the fact that most actually recover from the disease, with the mortality rate being on those who were immunocompromised or with pre-existing conditions. They also emphasized that eventually all of us will acquire the virus and be immune from it, with or without a vaccine, because it’s simply how the world goes. Hear, hear!

Joey went to work the following day so I had ample time getting to know Jane more during brunch. At night we went out for buffalo wings and some beers, with me winning the competition on who ate more wings. Why is it even called “buffalo” when it’s chicken?

Before long I was on my third and last day in the city and was already hauling my luggage into Joey’s trunk. After which, he renewed his driver’s license before we headed to the airport. Spirit Airlines not tagging one of my bags as overweight when it actually was was all the more reason to down beers before the flight to Los Angeles. (Thanks to his plastic for the discount at Landry’s Seafood House!)

Los Angeles

The flight was jam-packed, if not full, and if you ask me, it was like any ordinary day by Vanessa Carlton, only that people had masks on. Given the time difference, we arrived at 9:00 PM and went straight to a shuttle which brought us to the car rental service. And can I say how awkward it was to take photos as a tourist? Screw it.

The car assigned to us was different from what was booked. The best part? It smelled weed. Free weed in LA, bruh! Now, don’t get me going, but cannabis is legal for medical and recreational use in California. What a welcome, eh? As you get penalized when you return wheels that reek of the plant, Joey informed the rental company of the situation, just in case by the time the car is returned the whiff still lingers and we get charged for something we didn’t enjoy. Char.

While Joey mentioned before our trip—to entice me (as if I needed any enticing)—that it was actually the best time to travel because of less people, I still preferred saving bucks on accommodation. He asked people in California and in a heartbeat they were willing to take us in. Mind. Blown. In fact, in Los Angeles we stayed at Jane’s sister’s family where their parents were also staying.

“I should probably not breathe while in there” was my very first thought and expected that they won’t allow the senior citizens be exposed to us. It wasn’t the case, though, as aside from the family’s warm welcome, the parents also greeted us while we were served a late dinner. Not that I’m not one, but Filipino hospitality still never fails to amaze me.

We only had a day in LA so an optimal itinerary was necessary. I won’t dig into details in this post but in the end we did quite a lot. A Thursday well spent!

• Dropped by Universal Studios Hollywood (guess what, it was closed)
• Observed the Hollywood Sign from Griffith Observatory
• Looked for our names in the Hollywood Walk of Fame
• Fancied a burger and beer for lunch
• Peeked into the Bradbury Building (guess what, it was also closed)
• Checked out the Last Bookstore
• Took a bite and gulp at Grand Central Market
• Confronted the Walt Disney Concert Hall
• Passed by the Petersen Automotive Museum
• Savored the Urban Light at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art
• People-watched at Venice Beach Boardwalk
• Soaked ourselves in the freezing water (because why not!)

Jane actually took a breather as well and visited her family; by the time we arrived in the evening she was already there. We did karaoke with Coronas after dinner and Joey was nonplussed that I actually sing now—something that I never did back in high school even if everyone’s life depended on it. Beer pa!

Pacific Coast Highway

And then it was the day of the long drive ride to San Francisco via the Pacific Coast Highway. We hit the road at ten o’clock and while I had a lot on my stopover list, we only managed to strike four. It must’ve been a different story if I were able to function behind the wheel. A shame, I knerr.

• Sniffed around Oxnard Beach Resort
• Had coffee and judged Turkish sweets in Santa Barbara
• Settled at an Irish pub in Solvang, the beautiful Danish capital of America
• Made a run at Bixby Creek Bridge after missing it #tanga

We arrived at Berkeley past nine—after almost 12 hours! Without doubt it was a scenic route, but if you want to maximize stopovers, spending more than just a day is the way to go. It was tiresome, in a sense, being just a passenger so I could really tell how stressful it was for Joey because he didn’t want to arrive in San Francisco very late in the evening given that he was the only one taking the wheel (phrase reminds me of that song by Carrie Underwood). Sorry na!

San Francisco

Our host in San Francisco (technically Berkeley), Ate Teray, was a fellow Bisayȃ who’s from Davao. She took us to a Mexican restaurant for dinner and then offered us the beers that her son bought for his tasting. When he came down and, after some introductions, saw us consuming them, he took a sip from the can I was drinking from before I could even react. “There was definitely no escaping the virus there if I have it,” I thought. It was a brew of astonishment and disbelief.

Day 1

Joey only spent two days in the city while I had two more before the day of my flight. Like the other sections so far, I’ll spare this post from the details of what came about.

• Looked for the College of Chemistry in the University of California, Berkeley
• Got drunk Enjoyed some wine in Napa Valley
• Crossed the Golden Gate Bridge in all its foggy glory (may be mundane to you, I know)
• Judged people Checked for any buzz in Crissy Field
• Witnessed a “half-Filipina” LGBT wedding at the Palace of Fine Arts
• Saw a group of Bisayȃ Filipinos whose car was broken into by destroying its windows
• Traversed the crooked section of Lombard Street downwards
• Painted the Painted Ladies with disappointment my emotions eyes
• Returned the drink-sharing favor to Joey by finishing his milk tea in Chinatown
  (“If one of us has COVID-19, both of us definitely have it now.”)
• Fourth wheeled with Joey and his PhD schoolmate and his girlfriend for dinner

Like our first night, we put on nightcaps and laughed our asses off with our host’s stories. Nothing beats talking in your mother tongue. The humor, for one, is just different and intense. And can I say how irresistible the Blue Russian Blue in the house was?

Day 2

On the day of Joey’s departure, Ate Teray took us to Cesar Chavez Park which was just next to the Berkeley Marina. As usual, it felt like an ordinary day except that people wore masks. Kites were up in the air with the cool breeze that was puffing. She drove us around before we had lunch at a place called Crepevine. We left her place around half past one o’clock and I couldn’t be more thankful to her.

Being the hospitable people Filipinos are, Ate Teray actually offered me to stay with them until my flight. However, as it was my first time meeting her and with the person who was responsible for our meeting no longer around, it simply wasn’t happening because I’m a #shytype and it would’ve been too much.

Joey dropped me in Daly City where I booked an Airbnb bed and at past two o’clock, we finally parted ways. I decided to just acclimatize for the rest of the day in the four-bed bedroom and at night foraged the nearest Target by foot. It may have been spooky given the fog and the deserted streets just past eight, but you know what they say~ Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I was hungreh!

Day 3

The last two days in the Golden Gate City witnessed episodes of me traveling on my own as if the world wasn’t fighting an enemy it couldn’t even see. At the end of the day, YOLO still clung to me. I was already in a place I haven’t been to and will probably never return to, so why should I sulk and just stay indoors? Of course, that didn’t mean that I was being reckless.

With salami and my ever reliable tripod (to hyphenate, or not?) as parts of my arsenal, the city was mine for the taking.

• Started the quest for an excellent shot of the Golden Gate Bridge at Baker Beach
• Risked falling off a ridge for a shortcut to the end of the world Marshall’s Beach
• Took a million photos of a mist-engulfed Golden Gate Bridge
• Probed the views from the Golden Gate Bridge Outdoor Exhibition and Battery East
• Walked to and savored the Palace of Fine Arts
• Met Ping at the Ferry Building and demolished empanadas
• Biked through the Financial District, stopped over at the City Hall, and ended up at the Castro
• Admired the social distancing circles at Mission Dolores Park
• Didn’t have more than one beer over dinner #changedPerson
• Painted the Painted Ladies in the dark
• Rented another bike via Lyft and had the purpled City Hall all to myself
• Came across evil racoons at the Ferry Park
• Paused and reflected about life at one of the piers (it was lovely ♥)

It was so nice meeting Ping. Also Bisayȃ, she used to work at my first workplace and even though she did so when I was no longer there, through common friends we still got to know each other. I was initially hesitant to ask her out as I thought she was scared of exposure but it turned out she has always been very ecstatic to meet someone from the Philippines, even if it meant being in the middle of a pandemic. I wouldn’t have been able to experience biking in the city if it weren’t for her!

The city’s slopes ultimately killed my legs that I gave up on seeing the Palace of Fine Arts at night. It was such a relief when I finally found a spot to return the bike, beside Van Ness Inn. Uber dropped me in Daly before eleven o’clock struck and I was more than excited to guzzle the remaining IPA’s from Target only to find out that some bottles were missing. Pisti nga housemates!

Day 4

Pale ale and the takeaway cookies (one of them was named “Lil Bitch”) from Hot Cookie in the Castro was for brunch the following day. When I got on my ride, I immediately had a hunch that the driver was Filipino and it was eventually kanfeermed after he mentioned that he wanted to buy a Red Ribbon cake. His was another case of being in the US for too long without visiting his motherland at all.

Me: Are you a Filipino?
Him: Hindi.

• Strolled around Fisherman’s Wharf and saw Alcatraz Island up-close
• Ogled Pier 39’s hullaballoo and its adorable sea lions
• Revisited Lombard Street for a photo from the foot of the crooked section
• Slurped ramen outdoors at Japantown and chased it with a big Sapporo beer
• Finally stopped by the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Assumption
• Checked out St. Mark’s Lutheran Church (puslan man!)
• Stood by the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge into the night

That night I went back to Target to resupply and grabbed a pack of Absolut raspberry and lemongrass vodka soda. I couldn’t fathom the taste but it was definitely not to my liking. What a waste! It was also not to my liking when I found out in the morning that the remaining cans were all wiped out from the fridge. Seriously?! Gimme the damn CCTV footage of the kitchen!

Day 5

And so my “US tour”, as my high school classmate Naiza dubbed it, was finally coming to an end. My flight was at 11:55 PM and while packing I got an e-mail from PAL that the flight was moved to 1:10 PM of the following day. With a kitchen which needed constant cleaning, my drinks being stolen, and a roommate coughing like mad one night, it didn’t take long for me to decide not to extend for another night.

Travelodge by Wyndham near the airport was the place. It was a very excellent me-time given how I’ve managed to stay alive and in good shape after visiting the states with the most COVID-19 cases at that time. I ordered from KFC and just lazed around, watching old movies including Sydney White. It was truly such a shame that the eight-feet-deep pool just in front of my room was off limits. Boo!

A downside of the location was the absence of restaurants and stores nearby. I made my way to a store called Good N Rich Market in hopes of finding a good find. I’m used to long walks, but it felt like a very long one because it was nighttime and the streets were empty. There was even a part where paranoia got the best of me as I traversed a long and dark sidewalk beneath a flyover and two people were walking behind me. When I gained enough distance that I was out of their sight, I ran into the light. Haha!

Lessen learned: Never walk in anyone’s shadow to a destination at night in your slippers when you’re not familiar with the area. You never know when you’ll need to run.

Day 6

PAL had a very comprehensive information on arriving in the Philippines and traveling within the country. Hats off to them, even if one could say that it should be what’s expected since they’re the flag carrier. You have to preregister as early as a few days before your flight and the QR code generated will be your reference until your arrival. They might’ve been lenient because of the situation because like Spirit Airlines, my overweight bag wasn’t charged. *grins from ear to ear*

I was seated next to a man who was going home to visit his grandkids. He was chatty, which was really nice. He started off with wishing that no one is assigned on the seat between us before proceeding with telling me about the multiple cancelled flights he had before our flight. I never asked him but from what I read between the lines, he’s working in academia, particularly in the field of science. #judge

The forms which needed filling up were distributed even before the first meal was served. Man, I hate writing. Like the rest of the flights up to that point, no inflight booze was available. *cries*

Metro Manila

I was religiously following a Facebook group even before commencing my repatriation to the Philippines and with the number of Filipinos going home, answers to my questions were readily available in posts and comments.

Arrival

Orientation was provided by the Philippine Red Cross and Philippine Coast Guard before offboarding. At 7:36 PM on a Friday after taking the non-OFW lane, I was finally seated in the airport. Each passenger was checked for the aforementioned QR code and those who didn’t have it were assisted.

It was past eight when I bid my flight seatmate goodbye and had my swab test samples taken. Contrary to how others experienced it, it didn’t hurt and make me emotional. Perhaps following my Middle East-based classmate’s technique on holding your breath worked? Or maybe I’m just used to being hurt. *cries again*

The next step was the hotel reservation validation by the Department of Tourism. At least two nights were required while waiting for the test result and the hotel had to be accredited by the Department of Health. I started the hunt for the cheapest available room for my dates as early as following the Facebook group but my reservations kept getting called off. In the end I managed to secure one at Manila Lotus Hotel in Ermita.

The hotel didn’t have a shuttle so I had a taxi ride arranged after the hotel validation. As normal as it sometimes is in the Philippines, I anticipated the taxi meter to run wildly or the driver, who happened to be Bisayȃ as well, to ask for more than where the meter stopped. Neither was the case. Just before ten o’clock hit, I was finally closer to getting home.

MECQ

As luck would have it, the capital was still in MECQ when I arrived and there were four more days before it’s lifting. Until then, no public transportation—including transport network vehicle service such as Grab!—and no domestic flights. WTAF… Really! I’m from an island down south of the country so the only key would’ve been teleportation.

Like what I read from those who paid for their swab tests, my result was out within 24 hours—in less than 12 hours to be exact. That meant I had the remaining day and night to figure out if I should wait out the MECQ at the hotel or move somewhere cheaper or free, in fear that the MECQ might be extended and my test result would no longer be valid as a requirement for further travel. But how do I move out, when there’s no public transportation?

On top of the accommodation predicament, the BOQ website where the medical certificate’s supposed to be available was a useless piece of shit nowhere near usable. I tried to retrieve my certificate twice but it was busted AF. I asked Naiza if she has any knowledge about it and said that she knows someone who might be able to help.

With my result being positive, I was already allowed to go out of the hotel so I checked the nearest PNP station to request for a travel authority which was required for any interprovincial travel. But thanks to MECQ, they halted the issuance of the document. Yay! Another problem added to the list! Clueless as to how to move on with my life forward, I scavenged a grocery for foods and drinks because the prices at the hotel weren’t the cheapest (but really good food) and being a non-OFW, I wasn’t subjected to free everything.

Eventually I figured out how to pull through the remaining MECQ days and around 12 hours after receiving my swab test result, an e-mail with my BOQ certificate popped out of nowhere into my inbox. Did that mean that my attempts at the BOQ website actually succeeded? I don’t know. But did I have another beer because of that? Oh, hell yes.

Pasig

Come the following day, I sent two of my bags via Lalamove (thankfully such services were operational) to Naiza for safekeeping since she rented a storage space and still had more than enough space. Hanna, a friend from my postgraduate certification, came to my rescue and I found shelter at her place in Pasig City since her son was out for the week. There was no other way for me to move out other than have someone retrieve me and for that I was even more thankful to her. *cries yet again*

I spent three nights with Hanna and on my last night we were supposed to have drinks again but jet lag kicked in (#reasons) and I died a dishonorable death. What a chagrin! During my stay I also met and caught up with Lovely, a friend from my first workplace who was living just a building away. Like when I was in California, it felt really great being welcomed by people, especially that my swab test result may have been negative but getting infected after my samples were taken wasn’t out of the question.

Makati

In the afternoon of the day after MECQ ended, I transferred to Makati City for ease of getting a travel authority because of a PNP HQ that I know of. I was supposed to Airbnb at a condo but the management required a test result that was taken within the last three days so I instead rented a room in the same area where I lived for almost nine years.

It turns out that the application for a travel authority had a cutoff time at 3:00 PM so I was only able to get a hold of the requirements. Each LGU has its own protocol and since we were already aware of it, Ma coordinated ahead with our LGU so I already had my certificate of acceptance ready. With one more day before my flight, I was still on track. I just needed to get that travel authority by hook or by crook the following day.

Travel Authority

Laziness overpowered me that I didn’t turn up at my earliest when I could have so there was already a queue when I arrived at the PNP station. The guard on duty that day didn’t even know that the BOQ certificate counts as the medical certificate for ROF’s and shooed me. I quickly retaliated and thankfully one of the armed people knew its validity.

I felt the claim that ROF’s are treated with utmost importance when I was issued a travel authority ahead of so many waiting people in the line. There were around 15 people when I started waiting but my document was issued first. The BOQ certificate must’ve been taken with urgency.

As a form of celebration for taking another step towards home, I took a break from Jollibee and Chowking deliveries and had a bowl at one of my favorite ramen places—Ajisen Ramen. Slurp!

Later that day I learned about the website of our province where you could sign up to let them know of your arrival. It was obviously shorter than a short notice as I was bound to fly the next day but I still signed up anyway.

Rapid Test

As if my predicaments since landing on the country wasn’t enough, surprise~! My swab test result was no longer valid for Butuan City, my destination, because their LGU required a test that was taken within the last five days. And so I had to join other passengers on a PAL shuttle which brought us to their partner clinic for a rapid test. Pricey swab test down the drain and another expense thanks to MECQ yet again!

Like when I first read the e-mail notification that my swab test result was out, there was a mix of excitement and anxiety. I was prepared to get quarantined had my swab samples tested positive but still felt anxious and now that I was over it, the anxiety was on being unable to fly out of the capital when it’s just within reach. When my blood tested negative and at last I found myself at the gate waiting for boarding, I just had to gobble up cans of San Mig Light. Could’ve been my last, ya know.

Butuan

After disembarking at Bancasi Airport, we were grouped by province. Those whose final destination was Butuan were the first to leave and, as far as I know, were escorted by their LGU to their residences. Passengers whose LGU’s transport services were already waiting at the airport followed suit while those who weren’t able to arrange and secure their pickup were brought to Butuan Sports Complex where their LGU’s would be fetching them. I was among such people.

Sports Complex

We arrived at the complex before 3:00 PM and from there, communication and coordination between LGU’s were established for the retrieval of the stranded passengers. I received a call from the Agusan del Sur LGU and was told that the protocol is to never transport ROF’s with LSI’s for the reason that the former underwent swab testing. As the sun eased out I also watched the people thin out.

One group was so frustrated with their LGU because they were bluntly told that no pickup is happening for them because it was a holiday. My horns would’ve grown longer had I been in their group.

Preggy (after calmly talking on the phone): The most bugô LGU. Tubagon pa jud ta’g “Holiday [man gud karon]”!

Dinner caused everyone laughter when it came in the form of sacks and, upon feeling grains of rice in the contents, someone remarked, “Looks like we still need to cook our dinner!” Apparently they were relief goods for everyone and Jollibee meals arrived later on.

Two transport services from our province came and picked up passengers but no matter how much I insisted that I’m fine with it, I was never taken in because I was from overseas. It was very frustrating considering that I was just one ride away from my hometown already. When the second driver eventually turned me down after I was very eager to get on together with only two people, I asked him to call someone from our LGU before I unloaded my luggage.

The answer was still a no but I was, however, given assurance that Butuan’s LGU will be coming in the middle of the night to pick me up and the only other person in the complex who was also from overseas and bound to the same province as I am.

Non-OFW

Now, my concern was, despite being from overseas, I wasn’t registered as an OFW, and the Butuan LGU was only supposed to retrieve OFW’s. I raised this over the phone and was advised that they already coordinated my identity to the group who’ll pick up the OFW at the complex. In my mind, there was never any truth to it. (Was I wrong?)

Aside from the two of us, the only other people who remained were those from Bislig City who opted to just wait out their LGU’s transport service in the morning instead of joining the rest of their townspeople who got an approval of a private van transport. I don’t really look for luxuries in life but I found a foam in one of the shelters so there was no reason not to use it as the night grew older and everyone braced for it.

At around 10:30, Butuan’s LGU actually came and, as I prophesied, they were only picking up one person. Yep, the lady from our LGU who I talked to on the phone was either a big fat liar or their message simply didn’t reach Butuan’s LGU in time. I have no issues and was ready to sleep at the grandstand but among the things that I truly despise in life, even more than promises, are assurances that are broken. And so I informed the nearest person in a hazmat suit of my situation and thankfully he considered, called their director, asked for my swab test result, and got an approval. Since they only expected one person, I could only be loaded at the back of the pickup truck with everyone’s luggage. Yes, please!

Amigotel

We were brought to Amigotel Inn and were bathed with alcohol (wouldn’t have minded if it was the potable one) after alighting. Some heads might’ve turned when they saw me enjoying the breeze at the back of the truck as it may have looked like a joy ride out of town. Since aside from being from the same province we were also from the same town, I was assigned in the same room as the OFW from the sports complex. From there I learned of his story on how he ended up taking a commercial flight instead of one provided by the government for free to OFW’s. “Nothing else could go wrong from here,” I assured myself. Kay quota na jud!

Bayugan

It was almost eleven already when the Agusan del Sur LGU picked us up. With all of us being from overseas, there was no chance in hell that I was gonna be denied a ride again. NCIH! *swearing emoji*

In less than an hour we were at the provincial stopover in Bayugan City where at that point we were to be picked up by our respective municipal LGU’s for one final ride home. But not after we were given lunch and passed a rapid test.

Based on the conversations that transpired, most, if not all, of the guys I was with were seafarers. It was past two o’clock when our LGU arrived and it was so nice to glimpse the two people I was supposed to share that ride with the night before, had I not been denied. Turns out they also spent the first half of the day at the stopover on top of spending the night there. In less than an hour again, we finally set foot in our town and were offloaded at the municipal quarantine facility.

San Francisco

Nope, definitely not the one in California but the one in Agusan del Sur. The quarantine facility was our high school until the day before our arrival, making the two of us among the pioneers at the new facility located far from civilization the town center.

Quarantine

Before being converted to a quarantine facility with lots of cubicles, the place was formerly a facility which housed homeless children. The men were set for the cubicles while the women were to be housed inside the building (as long as “supplies” lasted).

Our town isn’t the richest so it might’ve been not that much to some, but hey! There’s drinking water and the facility’s cubicles provided privacy and had two outlets and a ceiling fan. There was also a starter kit which could be replenished. Choosy pa ba kung di ka naman makinis?

Visitors were allowed but only from afar so in no time my family dropped by and brought extra pillows, a blanket, a mosquito net, a heater, and instant foods. And oh, did I mention that there was Wi-Fi? Yessir! On our first night there were only three of us—the other one an LSI—so the connection wasn’t intermittent at all. Tough 3, y’all!

There were exclusive restrooms for us aliens but they were common nonetheless and while it might’ve been an issue for others, I just kept getting my hands drunk with alcohol.

As for the food, the municipality had a budget and we were not only provided with three meals but also two snacks a day. At some point people commented that we were like pigs being prepared for slaughter because we haven’t even digested our last meal yet when another one comes in. Not that I’m complaining, of course, but it was a fact and funny at that.

It became annoying, though, when some started complaining on the repetition of foods. It may have been thrown as a joke but it was a pain in the ears especially that some municipalities don’t even have the budget for a single meal. Weight gain? You bet!

During my stay I basically only mingled with my roommate at Amigotel Inn and another seafarer who asked me to install some software on his new laptop when he learned that I work in the IT industry. Err, I enjoyed unintentionally listening to other people’s conversations, too. Gehee. Except for really hot days, the only frustration I had was on the Wi-Fi.

I knew that two weeks wasn’t gonna be long and true enough, it only took some tweaking for nelsoft.org, attending two calls, rewatching Fushigi Yuugi, reading Bird Box and the second and third novels of the Southern Reach Trilogy, watching Klaus and the remaining episodes of Ancient Aliens Season 5, and, most importantly, using one of the sheet masks from Naiza. Hah!

Before I even knew it, it was high time to get out of my two-week sobriety. Hallelujah!

Protocol

Protocols vary from one LGU to another and in the case of our municipality when we arrived, ROF’s were required a 14-day quarantine while those who weren’t were to stay for only seven days. Every seven days since arrival a rapid test was performed and those whose blood tested positive were moved to a better facility next door for swab testing. If the swab samples also tested positive, they were taken to another facility which provided solitary confinement until such time that they test negative from the novel coronavirus.

People were supposed to just get out when nature calls or during food distribution but it wasn’t really followed since people are generally social and not everyone has a laptop or smartphone that they could finger. Also, the Wi-Fi became pretty much useless when people were already swarming the facility. Drinking anything alcoholic and smoking were prohibited but the latter was easily bypassed when I was there because the CCTV’s haven’t been installed yet.

Takeaways

• I’m more afraid of passing COVID-19 to others than acquiring it, because its effect/s on them could be way severe than what it did to me. And that’ll slap me with guilt. After all, even the young and the fittest have succumbed to the disease.
• Some aspects of it may sound contradictory and as being selfish, but nothing’s wrong with asking for a helping hand. Even during the time of a pandemic, there are still those who are willing to 1) meet up with people who could be carriers of the disease 2) help people they’ve never even met before by welcoming them to their homes.
• I took it upon myself to be vigilant of symptoms. Days before my first flight, my bowel movement was sort of acting up. It could’ve been diarrhoea. Or just my allegedly high metabolism in action. Then, days after the flight, there were muscle pains. Or they were simply a result of lifting all my heavy shit luggage. I even Googled if cracked fingertips is a symptom when I saw how mine looked. Each time I felt hot, I would whip out my thermometer to unravel a moment of truth. Finally, to check if I already lost my sense of smell, I’d simply lick the back of my hand and sniff it—something I started doing in Colombia. Distasteful? Yeah, right.
• Repatriation ain’t easy if you have a lot of things. When with no plans of settling down in a location overseas, avoid buying things because you might end up with difficulties disposing them. I lived in a fully furnished apartment yet I still felt that I had a million stuff on my shoulders. Unless you can send them via cargo which could be cheaper, baggage allowance is expensive especially when your luggage is overweight (and that is why you should have a handy weighing scale).
• The government’s handling of OFW’s in their repatriation to the Philippines deserves praise. The moment OFW’s arrive at the airport until they’re back to their respective hometowns, everything—medical tests, hotel accommodations, foods, and all forms of transportation—is free. So if you’re based abroad, make it a point that you’re an active member of the Overseas Workers Welfare Administration.
• Telling the people I interacted with in my schlong’s journey to inform me if they developed any symptom has always been in the bag. Nonetheless, truth be told, it may be the case that I already contracted the virus even before my repatriation began, was asymptomatic, and got over it. Another case would be the symptoms that I mentioned being actually those of COVID-19 but somehow I managed to keep it to myself and didn’t pass it to anyone until I recovered from it by the time I underwent swab testing. Immunity from the disease without ever knowing you had it is possible, after all.
• Everyone has the right to be paranoid. If you feel that even your closest friends are hesitant to see or accommodate you, don’t be hateful. You will be bestowed with disappointment, yes, but always remember that to each his own so suck it up.
• You may be among those who lost their jobs but a whole lot of people still have it way rougher than you. So if you managed to keep yours, all the more reason to stop being such a bitch about it.
• As fancy as it may sound, knowing how to drive a car, not just bicycles and motorcycles, is actually also a life skill.
• Christmas with my family until vaccines have already been widely administered.

Graduated: September 5, 2020 after 33 days of being on the “road”, one swab test, and four rapid tests

The post Repatriation to the Philippines during a Pandemic (COVID-19) appeared first on Itinerant.