Mountains and Mishaps: My Sagada-Baguio Adventure Part 2

I took a bus that was headed directly to Sagada via Banaue, and not the one that passed by Baguio.


This was when the real journey started. Everything from then on started to turn... interesting. The bus line's general guidelines declared that the trip would be 12 hours long. It wasn't. It was EIGHTEEN HOURS long. I was on the bus for a good 18 hours. Help me. 18 hours of my life I would never be able to retrieve. Thank God for Spotify premium and pocket Wi-Fi. The bus was scheduled to leave at 9PM, but left at 10. Instead of arriving at 9AM the next day, I got there at 4 in the afternoon! To be fair, written in fine print on the ticket was the possibility of a delay because of roadwork. Frankly, I just thought it would be more of a disclaimer than a reality.


I was exhausted when I finally got there. I became even more burned out when I found out how distant my homestay was. Upon reservation weeks prior, the lady I spoke to over the phone said that the center of the town was "10 to 15 minutes away." It wasn't. It took me over half an hour to and from the town proper. Can you imagine? She might have been correct if she were speaking to a seasoned triathlete, but to a big-bellied couch potato such as myself, it was a fat
lie.

I slept early that night because there wasn't much to do anymore and I was worn out. A part of me felt defeated. I wanted to complain, but to whom?


The following day came so fast, I slept through my alarm. If I wanted to catch the sunrise at the famed Kiltepan Peak, I should have awoken a lot earlier. I rushed outside and walked as fast I could, realizing I failed to book a jeep to take me there. I was previously told a ride would be unnecessary, since we were nearer the cliff. I kept hoping it was true this time. The first fifteen minutes went by easily, and I felt like I got the hang of walking long distances. But as I kept going, the road looked bleaker and longer. "Turn left ka lang pag nakita mo na 'yung Petron," I remember a local saying. I walked and walked and walked. The road was endless. "Putik, may Petron ba talaga dito?!" I was so jaded, even I was speaking Tagalog to myself.

It was freezing cold and the dark was prevalent. Several cars-for-hire clearly headed to the same place already passed by me, but none ever offered me a lift. The more I trekked uphill, the cooler it got.

Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Any advice, Adele? At that point, I was ready to accept not seeing the timely rising of the sun. When I finally saw Petron, I continued hiking until I saw the other tourists and found a spot for myself.


To be continued... Kiltepan Peak - Part 3

Bjorn Tabanera
iSTORYA Contributor



Bjorn is a Trainer and occasional events host and freelance writer


Mountains and Mishaps Part 1