Baguio escap(e)-ade
Filipinos were praying for only one thing last week: that Typhoon Ruby (international name: Hagupit, which is the Filipino term for whip or lash) spares the country, particularly the eastern Visayas region that is still barely recovering one year since the devastation brought by Super Typhoon Yolanda (international name: Haiyan).
Reporters and photographers were deployed for coverage while I stayed and manned the desk, constantly monitoring updates, uploading them on our online accounts, and doing graphic materials single-handedly.
Every thank you note we received for the regular weather updates, no matter how simple, brought me joy. At the very least, I knew I did not fail our readers.
Over the weekend though, while the public prayerfully kept track of the movements of the typhoon, my colleagues from Philippine STAR’s digital team and I went over Baguio City for about a day’s worth of stress-free travel and non-work-related bonding that we had long planned.
Thankfully, our reliable relievers at work willingly went on-board while we, the supposedly responsible and liable ones, were gallivanting up north for the weekend. Tee hee.
^ ALL GIRLS.
From left: yours truly, Verns, Zandra, Mika, Aki, Mike
When we reported for work on Monday, back from our quick weekend getaway, the typhoon once described to be “Yolanda-like” have already weakened until all public warning storm signals were lifted and the fear initially expressed by the public became laughable, yet understandable.
There’s an answered prayer for you, folks.
Anyway, here are some details from our 30-hour adventure in the country’s summer capital.
We arrived early Saturday morning at 4 a.m. after about five to six hours of travel backed by Eraserheads’ timeless songs, particularly the apt Overdrive, and we had only about two hours of sleep. We stayed in a neighborhood where friendly residents urged us to explore the area and visit the “beautiful” waterfalls.
We were thrilled at the thought of finding waterfalls in a city, so we went toward the direction the residents were pointing, as we pretended to be physically fit adventure-seekers. Panting and sweating under the contrasting heat of the sun and chill of the breeze, we sighted no waterfalls. Further down we went, with our giddy disposition slowly turning into a skeptical regress.
Further and further down the slope we went — until no further could we.
As consolation for our early morning unintentional exasperation though, at least we heard the sound of gushing water. The sight was breathtaking, too.
So... we just took photos while we were there. Mike, lifestyle writer and social media specialist, pointed out that the place looked like the production setting of the upcoming film “Jurassic Park”. I have no idea what he is talking about, but I agree that photo opportunities in that very place should not be missed.
We reckon there must indeed be waterfalls somewhere in the area, but we were already too tired to continue exploring and too time-conscious to even care. The waterfalls adventure was not part of our itinerary, anyway.
Climbing back, given the steep acclivity of the place, rendered us all exasperated so early in the day that we had to stuff ourselves with breakfast at the Cafe By The Ruins in Shuntug Street.
It was not my first time to dine in the much acclaimed restaurant, but any experience is always worth celebrating — especially when with the company of good friends.
But what good is Baguio without art?
Although we were not able to visit Baguio’s community for craftsmen, the Tam-Awan Village, we made it a point to drop by the BenCab Museum even if it meant trying to squeeze in the sight of every art piece in a span of an hour or two.
^ From left: Zandra, yours truly, Verns, Annalyn
What’s not to like about art? Here are some of the artworks that enraptured my soul while I was there.
^ Charlie Co, “Almost Mad” (2010)
^ Benhur Villanueva, “Tayaw” (2001)
^ Aba Dalena
^ Orley Ypon, “Whistle Blower” (2014)
And, for the record, the view was astounding.
The STAR Digital family’s photo shoot for the magazine’s centerfold... not.
But it did seem to have turned out that way.
In the afternoon, our group (minus Ma’am Tammy) visited Wright Park for horseback riding, as per the unwaveringdemand request of the child in me.
I have to confess that while my friends were not as thrilled as I was, horseback riding became the highlight of this Baguio trip for me. Make no judgment. I have spent most of my summertime in the City of Pines as a child because we have relatives residing there, but I could not recall an instance when I actually rode a horse.
Peridot was my horse’s name. He would have been racing against other horses but authorities found him unfit for that kind of life for one reason or another.
^ From left: Mika, yours truly, Aki, and Zandra — with our respective horses
^ From left: Verns, Mike, Annalyn
I do not understand why Baguio’s sweet corn seems so special.
I am happy that after three rounds, I managed to “control” Peridot on my own, with very minimal assistance from the guide. Achievement unlocked! Sadly, no one documented my feat.
I learned that about 150 horses line up at Wright Park every day, waiting for guests and tourists to choose and ride on them. Otherwise, the horse’s owners would get nil as income on that day.
It follows that the horses are all elaborately embellished; they have to be chosen.
I was also told that all the horses are male; some of whom were not accepted for racing, like Peridot. When I asked my guide what makes the horse’s gender important, assuming that female horses are perhaps less strong, he told me that with a female horse around, the male horses would be competing against one another.
Hence, to avoid the consequential commotion and bestial contest, no female horses are allowed to be in sight.
After the 30-minute-ish detour at the park, our group went to the Good Shepherd Convent to purchase pasalubongs. After having bought all-time favorites ube jam and alfajor, why not take a stride over at the nearby Mines View Park?
We filled our tummies not long after with a sumptuous, decadent dinner at the Camp John Hay, paid by our big boss MGB. ;)
^ Say hello to our bloated tummies.
The girlies in our group — led by Mika — were keen and delighted to join throngs of people haggling for fashionable items at the city’s night market. Of course, I wasn’t one of them, being the girl who is oddly uninterested in fashion and shopping. Hehe. So while they spent the night splurging, I slept.
The morning after, we went to the strawberry farm in Benguet, all geared and giddy, but we ended up a bit disappointed because we found impractical the cost of an hour-long group strawberry-picking activity.
^ Alas, some photo op on our last day before going to the last item on our itinerary!
^ Define silaw.
(Photos by Annalyn Delgado, Michael Rebuyas, Verns Joven, Allan Palor, and Micah Isla)
Cheers to the first among the many more adventures we would be having together as a family! •
How does #RubyPH stack up against #YolandaPH? pic.twitter.com/ZanK7w23as
— The Philippine Star (@PhilippineStar) December 4, 2014Reporters and photographers were deployed for coverage while I stayed and manned the desk, constantly monitoring updates, uploading them on our online accounts, and doing graphic materials single-handedly.
Every thank you note we received for the regular weather updates, no matter how simple, brought me joy. At the very least, I knew I did not fail our readers.
Over the weekend though, while the public prayerfully kept track of the movements of the typhoon, my colleagues from Philippine STAR’s digital team and I went over Baguio City for about a day’s worth of stress-free travel and non-work-related bonding that we had long planned.
Thankfully, our reliable relievers at work willingly went on-board while we, the supposedly responsible and liable ones, were gallivanting up north for the weekend. Tee hee.
^ ALL GIRLS.
From left: yours truly, Verns, Zandra, Mika, Aki, Mike
When we reported for work on Monday, back from our quick weekend getaway, the typhoon once described to be “Yolanda-like” have already weakened until all public warning storm signals were lifted and the fear initially expressed by the public became laughable, yet understandable.
There’s an answered prayer for you, folks.
Anyway, here are some details from our 30-hour adventure in the country’s summer capital.
We arrived early Saturday morning at 4 a.m. after about five to six hours of travel backed by Eraserheads’ timeless songs, particularly the apt Overdrive, and we had only about two hours of sleep. We stayed in a neighborhood where friendly residents urged us to explore the area and visit the “beautiful” waterfalls.
We were thrilled at the thought of finding waterfalls in a city, so we went toward the direction the residents were pointing, as we pretended to be physically fit adventure-seekers. Panting and sweating under the contrasting heat of the sun and chill of the breeze, we sighted no waterfalls. Further down we went, with our giddy disposition slowly turning into a skeptical regress.
Further and further down the slope we went — until no further could we.
As consolation for our early morning unintentional exasperation though, at least we heard the sound of gushing water. The sight was breathtaking, too.
So... we just took photos while we were there. Mike, lifestyle writer and social media specialist, pointed out that the place looked like the production setting of the upcoming film “Jurassic Park”. I have no idea what he is talking about, but I agree that photo opportunities in that very place should not be missed.
We reckon there must indeed be waterfalls somewhere in the area, but we were already too tired to continue exploring and too time-conscious to even care. The waterfalls adventure was not part of our itinerary, anyway.
Climbing back, given the steep acclivity of the place, rendered us all exasperated so early in the day that we had to stuff ourselves with breakfast at the Cafe By The Ruins in Shuntug Street.
It was not my first time to dine in the much acclaimed restaurant, but any experience is always worth celebrating — especially when with the company of good friends.
But what good is Baguio without art?
Although we were not able to visit Baguio’s community for craftsmen, the Tam-Awan Village, we made it a point to drop by the BenCab Museum even if it meant trying to squeeze in the sight of every art piece in a span of an hour or two.
^ From left: Zandra, yours truly, Verns, Annalyn
What’s not to like about art? Here are some of the artworks that enraptured my soul while I was there.
^ Charlie Co, “Almost Mad” (2010)
^ Benhur Villanueva, “Tayaw” (2001)
^ Aba Dalena
^ Orley Ypon, “Whistle Blower” (2014)
And, for the record, the view was astounding.
The STAR Digital family’s photo shoot for the magazine’s centerfold... not.
But it did seem to have turned out that way.
In the afternoon, our group (minus Ma’am Tammy) visited Wright Park for horseback riding, as per the unwavering
I have to confess that while my friends were not as thrilled as I was, horseback riding became the highlight of this Baguio trip for me. Make no judgment. I have spent most of my summertime in the City of Pines as a child because we have relatives residing there, but I could not recall an instance when I actually rode a horse.
Peridot was my horse’s name. He would have been racing against other horses but authorities found him unfit for that kind of life for one reason or another.
^ From left: Mika, yours truly, Aki, and Zandra — with our respective horses
^ From left: Verns, Mike, Annalyn
I do not understand why Baguio’s sweet corn seems so special.
I am happy that after three rounds, I managed to “control” Peridot on my own, with very minimal assistance from the guide. Achievement unlocked! Sadly, no one documented my feat.
I learned that about 150 horses line up at Wright Park every day, waiting for guests and tourists to choose and ride on them. Otherwise, the horse’s owners would get nil as income on that day.
It follows that the horses are all elaborately embellished; they have to be chosen.
I was also told that all the horses are male; some of whom were not accepted for racing, like Peridot. When I asked my guide what makes the horse’s gender important, assuming that female horses are perhaps less strong, he told me that with a female horse around, the male horses would be competing against one another.
Hence, to avoid the consequential commotion and bestial contest, no female horses are allowed to be in sight.
After the 30-minute-ish detour at the park, our group went to the Good Shepherd Convent to purchase pasalubongs. After having bought all-time favorites ube jam and alfajor, why not take a stride over at the nearby Mines View Park?
We filled our tummies not long after with a sumptuous, decadent dinner at the Camp John Hay, paid by our big boss MGB. ;)
^ Say hello to our bloated tummies.
The girlies in our group — led by Mika — were keen and delighted to join throngs of people haggling for fashionable items at the city’s night market. Of course, I wasn’t one of them, being the girl who is oddly uninterested in fashion and shopping. Hehe. So while they spent the night splurging, I slept.
The morning after, we went to the strawberry farm in Benguet, all geared and giddy, but we ended up a bit disappointed because we found impractical the cost of an hour-long group strawberry-picking activity.
^ Alas, some photo op on our last day before going to the last item on our itinerary!
^ Define silaw.
(Photos by Annalyn Delgado, Michael Rebuyas, Verns Joven, Allan Palor, and Micah Isla)
Cheers to the first among the many more adventures we would be having together as a family! •