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August was cruel. And in the next four months, from September to December, my travels were more of an escape. Come to think of it, whenever I am in Makati, I just get depressed that I have all sorts of excuses and reasons to travel. That’s what the heartbreak did to me, travel to seek refuge of being anonymous, travel to distract oneself. But no amount of traveling can console me.
As the bus we took from Sagada neared the marker to the highest point of the Halsema Highway in Atok, Benguet, we called on the driver to stop, clambered down, and when we gazed at the spectacular scenery before us, we were in great awe.
Fruits in season at Baguio’s public market are always interesting. Other than the usual imported stuff, there are locally grown fruits, some encountered the first time, some springing a surprise.
Its filled with stalls upon stalls of souvenir shops selling the same things and a pulsating throng that can make agoraphobic person scream with horror.
Imagine, having lunch or early dinner outdoors. But not just an ordinary open air venue but one where you’re surrounded by spectacular mountains, crisp and cool air, with a waiter dressed in tux decanting wine while a chef in toque and all, whipping up your dish. This in the great Cordilleras of Benguet.