How Big Can Your Birthday Cake Go?

I hate bus trips. I get dizzy everytime I glance at anything inside the bus. My eyes are almost always anchored kilometers away, perpetually looking out at whatever the frames of the bus windows can offer. I couldn’t count how many times I felt like vomiting my intestines out while we were on the way to Banaue. I kept praying that Batad better be something worth my pain.

Then we arrived. And I saw how very far it was from the disappointment I somehow expected though prayed against.

an up close trek of the famous rice terraces of Banaue

The mountains sequentially lined with rice terraces appealed to me like food. The scene looked like a mountain high cake with layers of muddy green chocolate icing sprinkled with rice crispy houses, some half-cooked, others toasted rusty brown. It could have been the best birthday cake for a nine year-old if it only had my name scribbled on one of its reinforced concrete side paddings. Then again, even the whole village of Batad wouldn’t have devoured a mountain high cake.

a really cold swim. believe me.

pretty site to behold

Being the thrifty Ilocana that I am, I can say that what I spent on the whole trip was even too cheap for something so magnificent. Even the local inn’s coffee was dramatic. Is there anything more wonderful than a cold morning with a warm cup of native Kalinga coffee over a 2,000 year-old scenery? What about free shots of rice wine on a bitter cold night with folks telling you tales of the lady Bugan and how she fell into the pit of a mountain?

Priceless. That is how the Batad field trip will always be remembered despite the muscle pains, cramps, and headaches.

somewhere down there is hell. don’t wanna go down though. the view here is just too splendid