Mountains and Mishaps: My Sagada-Baguio Adventure Part 3

The view was everything. I wanted to cry. I swear it was a scene from the movies.

Straight from the cinema screens. (IG: bjornjovi)

The sea of clouds owned me. I was where I needed to be after such an agonizing expedition. The white skies beneath me looked like a vast, feathery bed. I wanted to cry, not just because it was beautiful and I was vulnerable, but because that moment was mine.

Hello, Kiltepan

All my hard work paid off. I realized that this single spectacle was a result of my dedication to work and life in general. My profession has brought me to various places in the country, but this vacation was funded entirely by me. My parents are generous people, but for the first time, I actually felt independent. Through hosting gigs, a few writing stints, and a steady income, God has granted me the grace to taste the fruits of my labor.

The sun rose just in time. "This is it," I thought. "This is what you came here for. Happy 24th birthday, self. This is just the beginning."

Here comes the sun doo doo doo doo

I proceeded to the town proper to explore the rest of the attractions. With my assigned tour guide, I visited the hanging coffins and trekked on their version of an underground river. It was then that I realized that there were no overweight locals in Sagada, because everyone there walked. No jeepneys. No habal-habals. No Grab Taxi. No Uber. Just feet. Never have I hiked that much in my entire life.

I did not come prepared. I brought only one pair of shoes with me and I forgot to bring my slippers. I initially just wanted to visit the Hanging Coffins and Kiltepan Peak, but I realized trekking would also be fun. Hence, trekking on the river with my only pair of sneakers.

My 15-year old professional tour guide. I think his name is Buboy. I forgot. I’m sorry. He told me he tours people when he’s not at school. He’s been doing this for over a year now.

After spending barely 24-hours in Sagada, I hopped on a bus that was Baguio-bound. By this time, I already felt like a professional bus-rider. The entire journey was frosty. From a distance, mountains looked like they were being engulfed by a thick mass of white gloom. Despite the weather being dreary, the sight of rice fields in bright green still looked stunning.

Rainy terraces

I was told the trip would be only 6 hours long. Guess what? It wasn't. We left at 1PM and arrived at the City of Pines a quarter past 8. Starving and stressed, the first logical thing I had to do was to check-in at my hotel. I tried hailing a cab since it was also drizzling, but to no avail. With my oversized duffle bag, I ended up walking, clueless as to where exactly I was headed. Kind strangers, 4 blocks, and the entire stretch of Session Road later, I found the hotel I was looking for.

Enter misfortune.

To be continued...Misfortune! - Part 4

Bjorn Bjorn Tabanera
iSTORYA Contributor

Bjorn is a Trainer and occasional events host and freelance writer.

Part 1 - Mountains and Mishaps: My Sagada-Baguio Adventure
Part 2 - The Journey Begins