Well, obviously I haven’t been posting much on this blog recently. Also obvious, I’m still alive as evidenced by this spanking new post, just in case you were wondering. The reason for my absence? How I would love to declare “Because I’m not bored!”, but that would be a lie. Truth of the matter is, I don’t get to hang out at my usual gas station with the Wifi access. Work has me running around so much that it’s pretty inconvenient for me to do so. And though I have been writing stuff which I had planned to post at a later time, I keep forgetting to do so and eventually don’t post it at all. That’s that…. Just in case you were also wondering.
*****
So now I live with my little sister who has decided to take up my other room. Suddenly my room is cluttered with stuff that used to be in the other room. I don’t mind though, she does share the rent, and does the dishes and takes out the garbage. There’s also a strange comfort in knowing there’s someone around to feed my pet hamster, if and when I finally get around to buying it, that is.
I dared open up to her my plan of getting this hamster, soon-to-be-named Bob. She objects to the name, and proposes Hammy. Not bad, but it doesn’t sound too good in a conversation, does it? We agree to name it when I finally bring it home, depending on what it looks like. Expect a name like “Ballscratcher” or “Uglylittlehairball” to be considered pretty soon.
*****
The universe has conspired to get my ass to finally watch a movie in an actual theater. Courtesy of my beloved and much used Citibank credit card, I’m actually good for 4 movie tickets. Now a dilemma ensues, do I use them or sell them? My idea is to tag along with people who want to watch a movie then offer to buy them their tickets, taking their cash and using the credits I have instead. I’ve offered this scheme to some officemates who seemed aghast at the whole scheme. They feel that I’m some evil creature who has nothing in mind but to take someone else’s hard-earned money and benefit from it. What the heck?!
Fine then, I can use them, there’s no cost on my part anyway. But what to watch? Do I even remember how to watch a movie? Maybe it’s like riding a bike, and I’d get the hang of it pretty fast. As far as I could recall, there’s “2012”, “Paranormal Activity” and “New Moon”. That last one I know I won’t watch, seems like a chick-flick with vampires and werewolves, not really my type. I wonder if “G-Force” is still playing? Nothing like watching rats saving the world for a story.
Of course, the question of what to eat while watching a film is something not easily answered. My fantasy of a whole bucket of buffalo wings seems a bit messy and awkward in a darkened movie theater, pizza is a bit hard to manage as well, burger? Soft tacos? Arrgh! This is why I’d rather watch a DVD at home!
*****
Despite my disdain of the movie theater, I am a movie buff. I grew up watching tons of films, a lot of which are B-movies and pretty forgettable to say the least. When I used to have movie channels on cable, I could spend a whole weekend just tuned in to HBO or Star Movies. Evidence of this would be my habit of recalling select scenes from movies whenever a peculiar situation arises, a particular specie of deja-vu. For example, when someone asks me what I think of someone else whom I’m not fond of, I think of the Rocky series to a scene with Clubber Lang and utter the infamous “I pity the fool!”. Or let’s say someone is giving me a lecture on how to pronounce a certain word or phrase correctly, then “Mickey Blue Eyes” comes to mind and I say “Fawgedaboudit”.
Somehow, its fun to try and see one’s life as a series of scenes from different movies. Always, I picture myself as the Freddie Prinze Jr. type, smart, athletic, good-looking and witty. Unfortunately, I’m not as athletic… “nobody’s perfect” (Independence Day, retort by the rabbi to the phrase “but I’m not Jewish”), I guess.
*****
Two of my dear friends were hospitalized for kidney problems. I was able to visit one in the hospital, the other now lives in the US but I got word of her ills from facebook. As a result of this coincidence, I guess, I started to feel some lower back pain while driving the 5 hours from Baguio to Manila yesterday. I know that in all probability it was due to the long drive to just hours earlier, but I just can’t shake off the possibility that maybe I too was having kidney problems as well.
So I stop at a gas station, get a liter of water and chug down half of it in one giant gulp. Instantly, I feel my bladder fill up and drain it, right before I force feed myself the other half of the water. Then tonight, I stop myself at two bottles of beer instead of the usual barrel. Wow.
Then I get home and realize that beer kills livers, not kidneys. Cheers!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
What will be...
Vague items, I’ll admit. Just some coincidences happening these past days. I thought it best to thread lightly, carefully, just in case.
*****
Found myself in some building’s parking lot in Alabang just a few hours back, chatting with an old friend from college. It was an hour’s worth of catching up, apparently a lot has gone on in the past 9 months since we last met, and a lot more in the last 5 years or so since we were neighbors. How time flies, indeed, yet everything seemed as if it were yesterday. As we said our goodbyes, there was this nagging feeling that it might be for the last time but there was nothing to be done. A pat on the shoulder, that last awkward look and finally the words ‘take care’. Que sera, sera.
*****
I accompanied another college friend yesterday to one of those iconic symbols of UP Diliman, the “isaw” stand. Despite having moved to the vacant space in front of the old arcade, it was still the same stand that fumigated the Ilang-ilang dorm each afternoon years back. The trademark orange coloring, packing the skewered intestines into small plastic cups to be drowned in spiced vinegar and of course, the smoke. Memories of extravagance in a time of meager allowances.
Trudging through memory lane a bit further, we dropped by her old college boarding house and soon found ourselves willing captives to a nostalgic drinking spree with the former landlady. As can be expected from such reunions, flashbacks were being served as fast as the empty beer bottles multiplied all around. Despite not being privy to most of these stories, still there was my fascination about how much things have changed over the course of a decade.
I tried figuring out how much I have changed since those times, from being a reckless and carefree student of the university to a cautious and independent salary man struggling to secure each step up the corporate ladder. Regrets, of course, are plentiful, and yet it now ever hardly matters. What is important is the present, and what we make of it. The future? Well, I’ll take my chances. Que sera, sera.
*****
A friend recently went back home to the south, right after a visit from a ghost of sorts. I could only imagine the odds of that happening, a foreboding, perhaps? Of course, I can only guess as to the significance of that appointment at a time when idleness is imminent in the coming days.
Making matters even more serendipitous are recent discussions and realizations on the current going-ons (or the lack of it, I must say) between said friend and her ghost which seem to point in the direction of a hypothetical collision course. Hypothetical depending on which branch of physics you subscribe to (Newtonian or Quantum) relating to parallel lines. To which ever eventual end, all I can say is, que sera, sera.
*****
It’s been a while since I’ve seen a small pair of flip-flops (not mine) at my apartment. Those long strands of hair clogging up the bathroom drain as well. Two empty coffee mugs waiting to be washed in the sink when I get back home, and the inevitable hint of perfume in the morning. I guess I better learn to live with the fact that my sister now resides here.
A bit less than an act of charity, her presence gives my personal finances a significant boost in the direction of empowerment. Quite a welcome change from times past, I must say. It’s just strange, to be reminded. Que sera, sera.
*****
Found myself in some building’s parking lot in Alabang just a few hours back, chatting with an old friend from college. It was an hour’s worth of catching up, apparently a lot has gone on in the past 9 months since we last met, and a lot more in the last 5 years or so since we were neighbors. How time flies, indeed, yet everything seemed as if it were yesterday. As we said our goodbyes, there was this nagging feeling that it might be for the last time but there was nothing to be done. A pat on the shoulder, that last awkward look and finally the words ‘take care’. Que sera, sera.
*****
I accompanied another college friend yesterday to one of those iconic symbols of UP Diliman, the “isaw” stand. Despite having moved to the vacant space in front of the old arcade, it was still the same stand that fumigated the Ilang-ilang dorm each afternoon years back. The trademark orange coloring, packing the skewered intestines into small plastic cups to be drowned in spiced vinegar and of course, the smoke. Memories of extravagance in a time of meager allowances.
Trudging through memory lane a bit further, we dropped by her old college boarding house and soon found ourselves willing captives to a nostalgic drinking spree with the former landlady. As can be expected from such reunions, flashbacks were being served as fast as the empty beer bottles multiplied all around. Despite not being privy to most of these stories, still there was my fascination about how much things have changed over the course of a decade.
I tried figuring out how much I have changed since those times, from being a reckless and carefree student of the university to a cautious and independent salary man struggling to secure each step up the corporate ladder. Regrets, of course, are plentiful, and yet it now ever hardly matters. What is important is the present, and what we make of it. The future? Well, I’ll take my chances. Que sera, sera.
*****
A friend recently went back home to the south, right after a visit from a ghost of sorts. I could only imagine the odds of that happening, a foreboding, perhaps? Of course, I can only guess as to the significance of that appointment at a time when idleness is imminent in the coming days.
Making matters even more serendipitous are recent discussions and realizations on the current going-ons (or the lack of it, I must say) between said friend and her ghost which seem to point in the direction of a hypothetical collision course. Hypothetical depending on which branch of physics you subscribe to (Newtonian or Quantum) relating to parallel lines. To which ever eventual end, all I can say is, que sera, sera.
*****
It’s been a while since I’ve seen a small pair of flip-flops (not mine) at my apartment. Those long strands of hair clogging up the bathroom drain as well. Two empty coffee mugs waiting to be washed in the sink when I get back home, and the inevitable hint of perfume in the morning. I guess I better learn to live with the fact that my sister now resides here.
A bit less than an act of charity, her presence gives my personal finances a significant boost in the direction of empowerment. Quite a welcome change from times past, I must say. It’s just strange, to be reminded. Que sera, sera.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Blanket and Pillow Talk
Once upon a time, I had a favorite blanket. My little sister has her favorite pillow. So yesterday, during the long stretch of road from Baguio to Manila, I imagined up this debate between us about the merits of having such favorites.
First, we have to discuss the differences between a blanket and a pillow. A pillow, well a favorite pillow at least, is more a stuffed toy than anything. It serves little purpose except to provide you with something soft to cuddle with. A blanket, on the other hand, provides you with security and warmth but isn’t really of much substance to cuddle. So now we leave the floor open to the debate on which is the better buddy. Take your side now.
So have you taken sides yet? Here’s my fearless non-professional psychoanalysis: If you chose the pillow, you’re a girl. And if you chose the blanket, you’re a boy. Any violent reactions, so far? Let me expound…
Pillows are cuddle things. Thus, they’re selfish little objects which want nothing less than all your attention, and yet you give it to them. I bet you prop them up on the bed after you wake up and fluff them to look all cute and cuddly for the next time that you go to sleep. And you keep it warm by hugging it tight, not wanting it to feel cold. I bet you even sprinkle perfumed talcum powder on it so it smells oh so nice, and clothe it with the cutest pillowcases. Sounds pretty much like something a girl would do, doesn’t it?
And then there’s the blanket, something you put over yourself to keep you warm and cozy. It’s dense thread count keeping off most insects and even protecting you against the dank and humid morning dew. And yet despite everything that it gave you the whole time you were sleeping, you’d discard it as soon as you open your eyes and leave it be. Instead of pampering it with attention and care, you expect it to always be there to keep you feeling good. Now there’s something that boys would love.
Whichever item you choose, it doesn’t really matter much to me, by the way. I just had nothing better to think and write about. Though I am sticking to this theory simply because I chose a blanket as my “favorite thing”. And by the way, I still have that blanket, already retired, though. And my little sister still has her pillow.
First, we have to discuss the differences between a blanket and a pillow. A pillow, well a favorite pillow at least, is more a stuffed toy than anything. It serves little purpose except to provide you with something soft to cuddle with. A blanket, on the other hand, provides you with security and warmth but isn’t really of much substance to cuddle. So now we leave the floor open to the debate on which is the better buddy. Take your side now.
So have you taken sides yet? Here’s my fearless non-professional psychoanalysis: If you chose the pillow, you’re a girl. And if you chose the blanket, you’re a boy. Any violent reactions, so far? Let me expound…
Pillows are cuddle things. Thus, they’re selfish little objects which want nothing less than all your attention, and yet you give it to them. I bet you prop them up on the bed after you wake up and fluff them to look all cute and cuddly for the next time that you go to sleep. And you keep it warm by hugging it tight, not wanting it to feel cold. I bet you even sprinkle perfumed talcum powder on it so it smells oh so nice, and clothe it with the cutest pillowcases. Sounds pretty much like something a girl would do, doesn’t it?
And then there’s the blanket, something you put over yourself to keep you warm and cozy. It’s dense thread count keeping off most insects and even protecting you against the dank and humid morning dew. And yet despite everything that it gave you the whole time you were sleeping, you’d discard it as soon as you open your eyes and leave it be. Instead of pampering it with attention and care, you expect it to always be there to keep you feeling good. Now there’s something that boys would love.
Whichever item you choose, it doesn’t really matter much to me, by the way. I just had nothing better to think and write about. Though I am sticking to this theory simply because I chose a blanket as my “favorite thing”. And by the way, I still have that blanket, already retired, though. And my little sister still has her pillow.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tales from the Beer Bust
Last night was beer-bust night at the Mine Safety Club. Your's truly and the big boss come up here to Baguio each year to partake of this event, an excuse for the mining community to play golf, tennis, bowling and of course, eat and drink for free. The whole ampitheater was packed full of the usual people, and the beer was flowing... rumor has it a hundred kegs were delivered for that night alone. So naturally, a few stories came out...
*****
Spoken like a true alcoholic, I daresay that drinking has a lot of benefits. It is a great way to loosen up tongues which in turn, granted that your brain cells haven't already died, makes for a valuable education. Take last night for example, I was drinking with my boss and a couple of geezers when the topic shifted to a Japanese friend of theirs.
"Did you hear the Mr. X started smoking again?" The boss says.
"No, I haven't. Didn't he quit last year?" Geezer number one, replies.
"Yeah, but he smokes when someone offers him cigarettes now."
"Maybe he's just cheap, all of a sudden?" Geezer number two chuckles while I go get some more draft beer.
"No, you see, he says that he read about this Japanese study about cigarettes somewhat being a blocker of Alzheimer's. So now, he finds it more convenient to die of cancer rather than having to suffer late in life. Funny, no?" They all cheer for their Japanese friend while I silently ponder on the veracity of supposed study.
*****
Now there's this big bozo of a potential client of mine who despite having met me a lot of times in our monthly association meeting, hasn't really acknowledged my presence. We met in the hallway of the hotel and I called out "Sir" but he never even saw me, not even a smile. Maybe he thought I was the bellhop or something?
So anyhows, my boss got him all lathered up with draft beer, and all of a sudden I'm his best bud, even fetching beers for me when I need a refill. Whaddyouknow? He keeps on giving me these pats on the back whenever I say anything and in a number of times cornered me for a full-on one on one chat.
We met this morning in the hallway once again, I was getting something from the car while he was fetching the morning paper. I once again called him sir, he took one look at me and closed the door shut in my face. Talk about a one-night-stand. Prick!
*****
At first, the rumors that tuna sashimi would be served got me all excited! As they laid the trays of food one by one, my eyes scanned all around for the tuna, to no avail. Ahh, perhaps they didn't want it to be mixed in with all the other food, opting to serve it when everyone has had their fill, making for special beer-chow. So ok, I patiently waited and gorged myself of spare ribs, pork-tofu and whatever was on the table.
An hour or so into the program, just as everyone was grouped in small intimate circles with beers and food in hand, I spied another tray being set on the table. It was the sashimi! I made my way towards it, glinting red amid the fluorescent lights and presented in neat layers. Then someone got there first and got their fill, then another, then another. By the time I got to the table, the once neatly layered sashimi was now a pathetic pile of fish tissue in pools of reddish blood. Eww.
So I slunk back to my spot along with the geezers and wannabes (such as myself) and drowned myself in beer. So the food channel was right, it's a lot about the presentation, isn't it?
*****
The drive back to the hotel was surreal, the d-bag who decided to darken the tint on my windshield probably didn't put much thought into these kinds of situations. Zig-zagging along the mountain passes in complete darkness, with only the cliff edges as any real guide.
I took a drag from my cigarette and though I'm sure I looked cool and macho and all that crap, it vanished as soon as the cigarette fell from my hands onto the floor. How panicked can you get? Couldn't stop for fear of getting run over by traffic coming from the blind curves, and couldn't sacrifice control of the steering wheel to pick the damn stick up. Crap! So I divide precious seconds looking and trying to stomp on the thing while driving, braking and steering at the same time. Finally got the embers out... Whew! Close one!
Two minutes after that incident, I'm lighting up again. Tsk tsk...
*****
Spoken like a true alcoholic, I daresay that drinking has a lot of benefits. It is a great way to loosen up tongues which in turn, granted that your brain cells haven't already died, makes for a valuable education. Take last night for example, I was drinking with my boss and a couple of geezers when the topic shifted to a Japanese friend of theirs.
"Did you hear the Mr. X started smoking again?" The boss says.
"No, I haven't. Didn't he quit last year?" Geezer number one, replies.
"Yeah, but he smokes when someone offers him cigarettes now."
"Maybe he's just cheap, all of a sudden?" Geezer number two chuckles while I go get some more draft beer.
"No, you see, he says that he read about this Japanese study about cigarettes somewhat being a blocker of Alzheimer's. So now, he finds it more convenient to die of cancer rather than having to suffer late in life. Funny, no?" They all cheer for their Japanese friend while I silently ponder on the veracity of supposed study.
*****
Now there's this big bozo of a potential client of mine who despite having met me a lot of times in our monthly association meeting, hasn't really acknowledged my presence. We met in the hallway of the hotel and I called out "Sir" but he never even saw me, not even a smile. Maybe he thought I was the bellhop or something?
So anyhows, my boss got him all lathered up with draft beer, and all of a sudden I'm his best bud, even fetching beers for me when I need a refill. Whaddyouknow? He keeps on giving me these pats on the back whenever I say anything and in a number of times cornered me for a full-on one on one chat.
We met this morning in the hallway once again, I was getting something from the car while he was fetching the morning paper. I once again called him sir, he took one look at me and closed the door shut in my face. Talk about a one-night-stand. Prick!
*****
At first, the rumors that tuna sashimi would be served got me all excited! As they laid the trays of food one by one, my eyes scanned all around for the tuna, to no avail. Ahh, perhaps they didn't want it to be mixed in with all the other food, opting to serve it when everyone has had their fill, making for special beer-chow. So ok, I patiently waited and gorged myself of spare ribs, pork-tofu and whatever was on the table.
An hour or so into the program, just as everyone was grouped in small intimate circles with beers and food in hand, I spied another tray being set on the table. It was the sashimi! I made my way towards it, glinting red amid the fluorescent lights and presented in neat layers. Then someone got there first and got their fill, then another, then another. By the time I got to the table, the once neatly layered sashimi was now a pathetic pile of fish tissue in pools of reddish blood. Eww.
So I slunk back to my spot along with the geezers and wannabes (such as myself) and drowned myself in beer. So the food channel was right, it's a lot about the presentation, isn't it?
*****
The drive back to the hotel was surreal, the d-bag who decided to darken the tint on my windshield probably didn't put much thought into these kinds of situations. Zig-zagging along the mountain passes in complete darkness, with only the cliff edges as any real guide.
I took a drag from my cigarette and though I'm sure I looked cool and macho and all that crap, it vanished as soon as the cigarette fell from my hands onto the floor. How panicked can you get? Couldn't stop for fear of getting run over by traffic coming from the blind curves, and couldn't sacrifice control of the steering wheel to pick the damn stick up. Crap! So I divide precious seconds looking and trying to stomp on the thing while driving, braking and steering at the same time. Finally got the embers out... Whew! Close one!
Two minutes after that incident, I'm lighting up again. Tsk tsk...
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Brain Freeze
Wifi back on at the gas station. woohoo! Now what? The prolonged hiatus from this blog has resulted in a certain specie of writer's block. Not only can't I think of nothing, but my typing skills have gone haywire.
*****
How's this for a topic, a truck-load of pigs just went by, one of those double-decker mini-trucks. The pigs are screaming, thrasing about as the truck negotiates the hump at the gas station. Suddenly one of the beasts start staring at me, motionless, not even blinking its beady eyes. Is it accusing me? I can't imaging this little porker knowing what I ate for breakfast for it to assume that one of its kin died to provided sustenance for myself.
Fortunately, the truck rolled on and the staring stopped. Too bad the stink lingered on for another minute, though. How the heck did our ancestors ever thought these pigs were good enough to eat if they smelled this badly!? "Hey guys, these filthy animals have awful hygiene and stink to the high heavens... it must taste delicious!"
*****
I'm still postponing getting a hamster. Mostly because of laziness, apparently. For one, I'd have to find and clean up the old aquarium. Then there's the matter of having to feed it. I have trouble feeding myself, and I should make an effort for this rodent? Also, I'd have to figure out a better ventilation system for my apartment lest it smell like, well, a hamster. I know it doesn't sound like too much work, but given my lack of interest in doing anything, if it takes more muscles than looking for the remote control, I'm not interested.
*****
As I read back on that last paragraph, I suddenly realized that I shouldn't get that hamster. Not that I'm concerned I'd just as soon subject it to animal cruelty or abuse, rather because I'm treating getting a pet as a chore, something not worthy of getting all excited about. Instead of putting all that effort into getting and keeping a pet alive, I should probably put that to better use cleaning and tending to my car. Yes, it's been in a state of neglect ever since I got it... poor thing.
*****
Oh well, I give up. There's no point in forcing the mind to produce something the least bit read-worthy if it doesn't want to. Hopefully I can coax it into submission the next few days while I'm in the summer capital. With that much time on my hands, the boredom is sure to kick in and I'd be at my usual pace once again. Until then, I'll leave you with this totally worthless piece of crap which you have just read. My sincerest apologies...
*****
How's this for a topic, a truck-load of pigs just went by, one of those double-decker mini-trucks. The pigs are screaming, thrasing about as the truck negotiates the hump at the gas station. Suddenly one of the beasts start staring at me, motionless, not even blinking its beady eyes. Is it accusing me? I can't imaging this little porker knowing what I ate for breakfast for it to assume that one of its kin died to provided sustenance for myself.
Fortunately, the truck rolled on and the staring stopped. Too bad the stink lingered on for another minute, though. How the heck did our ancestors ever thought these pigs were good enough to eat if they smelled this badly!? "Hey guys, these filthy animals have awful hygiene and stink to the high heavens... it must taste delicious!"
*****
I'm still postponing getting a hamster. Mostly because of laziness, apparently. For one, I'd have to find and clean up the old aquarium. Then there's the matter of having to feed it. I have trouble feeding myself, and I should make an effort for this rodent? Also, I'd have to figure out a better ventilation system for my apartment lest it smell like, well, a hamster. I know it doesn't sound like too much work, but given my lack of interest in doing anything, if it takes more muscles than looking for the remote control, I'm not interested.
*****
As I read back on that last paragraph, I suddenly realized that I shouldn't get that hamster. Not that I'm concerned I'd just as soon subject it to animal cruelty or abuse, rather because I'm treating getting a pet as a chore, something not worthy of getting all excited about. Instead of putting all that effort into getting and keeping a pet alive, I should probably put that to better use cleaning and tending to my car. Yes, it's been in a state of neglect ever since I got it... poor thing.
*****
Oh well, I give up. There's no point in forcing the mind to produce something the least bit read-worthy if it doesn't want to. Hopefully I can coax it into submission the next few days while I'm in the summer capital. With that much time on my hands, the boredom is sure to kick in and I'd be at my usual pace once again. Until then, I'll leave you with this totally worthless piece of crap which you have just read. My sincerest apologies...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Writing Trip
Wifi connection at the gas station is kaput… been like that the last week and on this windy Monday night, still is. Oh well, guess there will be times such as this…
*****
Tick tock tick tock… long weekend’s almost here! And what do I have planned for such an occasion? Well, there’s the laundry… and maybe a little overdue home repairs. Yes, without the benefit of cash, I am doomed to spend the long weekend at home. No worries, wouldn’t want to join the mob lined up at the toll gates and side streets anyway.
And speaking of out of town trips, Nolan and I were talking over the weekend and he suggested I try our writing some sort of travelogue… the kind that makes it on travel magazines and in-flight reading materials. Hmm, seems simple enough, I thought, maybe I should? Topic, we agreed, would be our Calaguas Island adventure not so long ago. Trouble was that I did try to write about it but found myself coughing up bits and pieces of information that certainly did not paint a clear picture of the trip nor much of how fun and relaxing it was. So here I am, doing it over… ahem ahem…
*****
A few kilometers off the coast of Camarines Norte, the Calagua Islands has been whispered among the community of weekend adventurers as one of the archipelago’s best kept secrets. Tales of powdery white sands, pristine waters and rolling hills isolated from the general populace only adds to its allure, and being smack in the middle of the typhoon belt, only the brave dare to go forth with this adventure. Surprisingly, I found myself headed south from Manila to try my luck.
The drive starts from the urban jungle of Metropolitan Manila at midnight, a convoy of 2 cars with 4 passengers each. The 6 hour journey that will take us to the sleepy town of Vinzons, Camarines Sur speeds us through highways, winding roads and mountain passes, including a notable stint across Quezon’s well preserved primary rain forests that make up the Quezon National Park. Daybreak finds us crossing the regional boundary between Quezon and Camarines Norte, at the foot of Mt. Elena and soon we found ourselves having breakfast in the rustic ancestral home of Vinzons’ native, Arch. Obey Ferrer, who also made arrangements for the boat which would taxi us to the Calaguas and back.
We hurriedly got our things together for the morning’s boat ride to the Calaguas, loading our gear aboard a fishing boat docked at the riverside. The tide was about to shift making the river journey quite treacherous, the boat could easily bottom out under unskilled hands, but we were nonetheless treated to a magnificent view of nipa plants lining the river as well as a preview of the famed Bagasbas beach from the river delta. Upon reaching the open sea, our boat was rocked by the Pacific swells, making known the great ocean that lay at our foremast, and on the horizon we could make out the tiny blips of land that was to be our destination.
The boat ride took 2 hours, and by then we were cruising past dark cliffs, green hills and of course, white sand beaches in their protective coves. Small fishing boats were afloat, cast off from these islands with a population of more or less a hundred people. If you wanted isolation, these islands offered a lot of it. At last, the boat beached itself in a large cove, lined with probably a third of a kilometer of the finest white sand that you could plant your feet on. Save for 3 nipa huts that the locals had erected as shelter for the occasional visitors, there was nothing by way of a resort on the island. Just the clear calm waters, the green hills and the splendid white sand beach in between.
As luck would have it, we chanced upon a sunny day filled with blue skies and white clouds. The sun burned our skins but the sand was never too hot for our bare feet as the lot of us frolicked in it and swam in the water the whole day. Some locals who whiled time away in the cove offered to get us water for drinking and bathing at very reasonable prices, and one could also ask them to cook some of the freshest catch from the sea bought from the fishing villages on the other side of the island.
Under the right conditions, the beach proves to be a great spot for die-hard landscape photographers with a multitude of natural subjects and the clearest blues and whites as a backdrop. And as the afternoon sun sets on the horizon, the sand plays host to our little tent city lit with a bonfire, roasting our dinners and warming our spirits underneath a bejeweled sky.
The journey back was filled with fond memories of this isolated landscape, and all the effort and time invested in this little pilgrimage was well worth it. As the early morning found us back in the congested metropolis, that small speck of land will always occupy a large chunk of our minds of what a weekend getaway is supposed to be like.
*****
For those of you who made the journey with me, I obviously left out some “minor” details that could be correctly construed as one of those unfortunate freak accidents. But I’m sure you’ll agree with me that though bothersome, it hadn’t drenched out good memories of the place at all, further fortifying our collective resolve to Never Stop Exploring (to borrow a phrase from Jundel’s TNF, hehehe).
*****
Tick tock tick tock… long weekend’s almost here! And what do I have planned for such an occasion? Well, there’s the laundry… and maybe a little overdue home repairs. Yes, without the benefit of cash, I am doomed to spend the long weekend at home. No worries, wouldn’t want to join the mob lined up at the toll gates and side streets anyway.
And speaking of out of town trips, Nolan and I were talking over the weekend and he suggested I try our writing some sort of travelogue… the kind that makes it on travel magazines and in-flight reading materials. Hmm, seems simple enough, I thought, maybe I should? Topic, we agreed, would be our Calaguas Island adventure not so long ago. Trouble was that I did try to write about it but found myself coughing up bits and pieces of information that certainly did not paint a clear picture of the trip nor much of how fun and relaxing it was. So here I am, doing it over… ahem ahem…
*****
A few kilometers off the coast of Camarines Norte, the Calagua Islands has been whispered among the community of weekend adventurers as one of the archipelago’s best kept secrets. Tales of powdery white sands, pristine waters and rolling hills isolated from the general populace only adds to its allure, and being smack in the middle of the typhoon belt, only the brave dare to go forth with this adventure. Surprisingly, I found myself headed south from Manila to try my luck.
The drive starts from the urban jungle of Metropolitan Manila at midnight, a convoy of 2 cars with 4 passengers each. The 6 hour journey that will take us to the sleepy town of Vinzons, Camarines Sur speeds us through highways, winding roads and mountain passes, including a notable stint across Quezon’s well preserved primary rain forests that make up the Quezon National Park. Daybreak finds us crossing the regional boundary between Quezon and Camarines Norte, at the foot of Mt. Elena and soon we found ourselves having breakfast in the rustic ancestral home of Vinzons’ native, Arch. Obey Ferrer, who also made arrangements for the boat which would taxi us to the Calaguas and back.
We hurriedly got our things together for the morning’s boat ride to the Calaguas, loading our gear aboard a fishing boat docked at the riverside. The tide was about to shift making the river journey quite treacherous, the boat could easily bottom out under unskilled hands, but we were nonetheless treated to a magnificent view of nipa plants lining the river as well as a preview of the famed Bagasbas beach from the river delta. Upon reaching the open sea, our boat was rocked by the Pacific swells, making known the great ocean that lay at our foremast, and on the horizon we could make out the tiny blips of land that was to be our destination.
The boat ride took 2 hours, and by then we were cruising past dark cliffs, green hills and of course, white sand beaches in their protective coves. Small fishing boats were afloat, cast off from these islands with a population of more or less a hundred people. If you wanted isolation, these islands offered a lot of it. At last, the boat beached itself in a large cove, lined with probably a third of a kilometer of the finest white sand that you could plant your feet on. Save for 3 nipa huts that the locals had erected as shelter for the occasional visitors, there was nothing by way of a resort on the island. Just the clear calm waters, the green hills and the splendid white sand beach in between.
As luck would have it, we chanced upon a sunny day filled with blue skies and white clouds. The sun burned our skins but the sand was never too hot for our bare feet as the lot of us frolicked in it and swam in the water the whole day. Some locals who whiled time away in the cove offered to get us water for drinking and bathing at very reasonable prices, and one could also ask them to cook some of the freshest catch from the sea bought from the fishing villages on the other side of the island.
Under the right conditions, the beach proves to be a great spot for die-hard landscape photographers with a multitude of natural subjects and the clearest blues and whites as a backdrop. And as the afternoon sun sets on the horizon, the sand plays host to our little tent city lit with a bonfire, roasting our dinners and warming our spirits underneath a bejeweled sky.
The journey back was filled with fond memories of this isolated landscape, and all the effort and time invested in this little pilgrimage was well worth it. As the early morning found us back in the congested metropolis, that small speck of land will always occupy a large chunk of our minds of what a weekend getaway is supposed to be like.
*****
For those of you who made the journey with me, I obviously left out some “minor” details that could be correctly construed as one of those unfortunate freak accidents. But I’m sure you’ll agree with me that though bothersome, it hadn’t drenched out good memories of the place at all, further fortifying our collective resolve to Never Stop Exploring (to borrow a phrase from Jundel’s TNF, hehehe).
Monday, October 19, 2009
More rodent fantasies (I've really got to stop with this rodent thing)
Huge mistake today... I took out the rent money from my ATM account, was going to make the deposit in the bank, but I got too lazy and decided that tomorrow was probably a better day to do that chore. Now, I'm sitting here with the money in my pocket, burning a rather large hole. My fear is that somehow, I would "lose" the money on a number of things, foremost of which would probably be the groceries and/or an ipod.
*****
So I've read that local basketball has turned horribly wrong, with a player mauling a fan. We all know what's going to happen, player gets fined, suspended and maybe even banned from basketball. The fan, well, he got beaten up already, too bad.
This might be a good time to think up new ways to keep fans from being pummeled by athletes. For one, maybe basketball should be a caged match, or at least played within the confines of a glass/plastic panel similar to that being employed in pro-hockey. It would probably cost a bit more, but that is cheap compared to outfitting everyone in the audience with helmets and padded suits.
But then again, sometimes fans do want to get into the thick of the action. Consider the running of the bulls, now I can't for the life of me figure out why people would knowingly put themselves in harms way to enjoy this. Sure, taunting the beast is fun, but then it's another matter when they get the better of the situation and gorge your ass with their horns. Unlike basketball players, I doubt if a fine or suspension would teach the bulls a lesson.
*****
Speaking of beasts, I am inspired to start a new contest involving some of our more furrier friends. As a kid, I've been witness to quite a number of spider, fish and even "salagubang" fights. Then there's the popular cockfights, dogfights and even carabao and horse fights. But I've never heard of hamster fights. That's right, time to get these furballs into shape in a life or death duel. My plan is to breed these little rodents into lean, mean, fighting machines out to dominate the rest of their specie. No more of that cute and cuddly image, it's time these bozos learn to earn their keep.
So how does one go about training these guys? Well, I'm not exactly sure. They do seem like sloths, don't they? And checking out their kind in the pet stores, they seem more intent on licking their privates and humping each other than knocking the living daylights out of the other guy. Maybe if I start inbreeding them I'd be able to produce a mutation. Shock therapy wouldn't be the worst idea either. A few doses a day of 12V through them should incite them to get angry, shouldn't it?
To make it even more interesting, maybe a cross-specie rumble would be entertaining? 3 Hamsters up against a lone guinea pig? Reminds me of Roman gladiators thrashing up the arena. Hamsters versus guinea pigs, claw against claw, incisors against incisors, then add a mouse and a bunny in the fray and you'd have all the makings of a true cross-specie royal rumble! Find out the true champion of the rodent world!
But wait, there's more! The rodents finally realize that they are fighting their own kind, kinda like Care Bears versus Care Bear Cousins, they make a pact to unite and take on their natural enemies, the Cat! Though it would seem like a lopsided contest in feline-dom's favor, remember that rodents do one thing very efficiently, breed. Easily, a single household could find itself overrun by rats given a few months. And that extends to their cousins as well. Imagine an army of a hundred hamsters and rabbits, out for cat tail. My my, that would be a sight indeed. Even the Pied Piper must've had goose bumps being followed by hundreds of rats, these cats wouldn't stand a chance. All the rodents need to do is act all cute and cuddly and stuff themselves into the feline's mouth, until kitty kat explodes with vermin. Eep!
*****
So I've read that local basketball has turned horribly wrong, with a player mauling a fan. We all know what's going to happen, player gets fined, suspended and maybe even banned from basketball. The fan, well, he got beaten up already, too bad.
This might be a good time to think up new ways to keep fans from being pummeled by athletes. For one, maybe basketball should be a caged match, or at least played within the confines of a glass/plastic panel similar to that being employed in pro-hockey. It would probably cost a bit more, but that is cheap compared to outfitting everyone in the audience with helmets and padded suits.
But then again, sometimes fans do want to get into the thick of the action. Consider the running of the bulls, now I can't for the life of me figure out why people would knowingly put themselves in harms way to enjoy this. Sure, taunting the beast is fun, but then it's another matter when they get the better of the situation and gorge your ass with their horns. Unlike basketball players, I doubt if a fine or suspension would teach the bulls a lesson.
*****
Speaking of beasts, I am inspired to start a new contest involving some of our more furrier friends. As a kid, I've been witness to quite a number of spider, fish and even "salagubang" fights. Then there's the popular cockfights, dogfights and even carabao and horse fights. But I've never heard of hamster fights. That's right, time to get these furballs into shape in a life or death duel. My plan is to breed these little rodents into lean, mean, fighting machines out to dominate the rest of their specie. No more of that cute and cuddly image, it's time these bozos learn to earn their keep.
So how does one go about training these guys? Well, I'm not exactly sure. They do seem like sloths, don't they? And checking out their kind in the pet stores, they seem more intent on licking their privates and humping each other than knocking the living daylights out of the other guy. Maybe if I start inbreeding them I'd be able to produce a mutation. Shock therapy wouldn't be the worst idea either. A few doses a day of 12V through them should incite them to get angry, shouldn't it?
To make it even more interesting, maybe a cross-specie rumble would be entertaining? 3 Hamsters up against a lone guinea pig? Reminds me of Roman gladiators thrashing up the arena. Hamsters versus guinea pigs, claw against claw, incisors against incisors, then add a mouse and a bunny in the fray and you'd have all the makings of a true cross-specie royal rumble! Find out the true champion of the rodent world!
But wait, there's more! The rodents finally realize that they are fighting their own kind, kinda like Care Bears versus Care Bear Cousins, they make a pact to unite and take on their natural enemies, the Cat! Though it would seem like a lopsided contest in feline-dom's favor, remember that rodents do one thing very efficiently, breed. Easily, a single household could find itself overrun by rats given a few months. And that extends to their cousins as well. Imagine an army of a hundred hamsters and rabbits, out for cat tail. My my, that would be a sight indeed. Even the Pied Piper must've had goose bumps being followed by hundreds of rats, these cats wouldn't stand a chance. All the rodents need to do is act all cute and cuddly and stuff themselves into the feline's mouth, until kitty kat explodes with vermin. Eep!
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