A trip to Sagada

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What drove a group of eleven people into getting their behinds off their office chairs and rode the next available bus bound to the far north of Luzon is simply their passion to explore the wonders of nature.

It was a Friday, eve when most of the people working around the Metro whose homes are in the provinces are flocking the bus terminals trying to catch the next ride. Armed with the eagerness to witness the grandeur that is, of Sagada, I and nine officemates (and one of them's better-half) canceled all our schedules and geared for a countless rear-numbing bus trips and three dedicated days of affair with mother nature.

The journey began when some of us took the company's shuttle going to Magallanes while the others went ahead via a private car. We were supposed to meet and ride a bus for Banaue in España, and from Banaue take a couple of jeepney trips before settling in Sagada. Late did we realize that we won't be able to buy tickets because all scheduled trips that night were fully booked. We were very excited... so much that we were unable to make reservations knowing that we've been planning it for more than a week! Couple of hours more, we were dumbstruck like kids who were left out stucked in a cold rain. But the spirits of everyone didn't falter and our patience paid off when we finally boarded a Victory bus for Baguio on the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Dangwa, an eight hour pilgrimage

From Baguio, we arrived and ate brunch in a seemingly vintage restaurant which offers mostly fried food on its menu and a stale dish good enough for two. Just in front of it were parked non-airconditioned buses whose terminal bears the name 'Dangwa'. One of these buses have on its left windshield a plackard inviting passengers who wish to go to Sagada. Without hesitation, everyone stepped inside and quickly took comfort of his own seat like it was the last space in the bus.

While I was intermittently mumbling "Are we there yet?" knowing that it was still a long way ahead, we found ourselves in awe with the beautiful scenes displayed by a galore of terraces and mountains. The fog appearred to have blanketed some of the mountains' summit. The magnificent view of the terraces seemed to have diverted our attention to focus on the awesome sights and not minding the long hours we embraced to travel.

First night at St. Joseph

6 pm. At the break of dusk, we finally had set foot on the grounds of Sagada. The biting cold was just starting to show its fangs but it was still doable. Immediately, we searched for St. Joseph Resthouse because this is the lodge that one of us at least had an idea with. We then proceeded to the town's municipal hall as their customs require tourists to be registered.

St Joseph boasts its fine landscape of flowers and garden sorrounding the different rooms and apartelles. The lobby displays frames of photos of the native Sagada and its people. These fascinating pictures were long ago captured by Masferre whose signatures repeatedly appear in most of them. We rented a room for five and a staff house big enough for the rest of us. Inside were neatly arranged blankets and comfy beds to shield us from the blistering cold. One of the rooms was named after Bokong, a very small but deep waterfall just a few kilometers from where we were.

We had dinner at Alfredo's, a few steps from the Log Cabin -- it was our first choice but they only serve those who made reservations. Most of us had a nicely done pair of chicken thigh and breast with a fine garnish of veggies on the side. The taste was commendable even though we waited some 20-30 minutes before they served their last customers for the night. What made the restaurant stand out on its own are the Anitos that appeared to be guardians of the place. The human like figures demonstrated Machete, as someone uttered almost instantly, and varied statues of Igorots in black . It was past 9, the town's curfew, when we finished. We went back to the lodge in separate batches while the sound of the beaten bell signaling the curfew was still ringing in my head.

A trek of a lifetime

Sunday morning breeze greeted us with the temperature down causing billowed steam from every exhale and a promise that this will be a great day everyone would never forget.

We were told to eat breakfast at Yoghurt House as we discussed the status of our itinerary. Each had a platter of mouth watering pancake filled with yoghurt-- their especialty in the house. The place was not only unique for the food they serve for we'd also seen native hand made crafts hung from the ceiling and a little library of magazines and pocket books.

Guided by three who are used to speak in Kankanay-ek, (their local dialect which at first, we thought similar to Ilocano) we trekked a kilometer or two, to reach the gates of our first destination-- Sumaging cave. Everyone took ample time to have photo shoots while finding ourselves yelling oohs and ahhs with the magnificent views we met along the way. Huge walls of rock and cliff, tall pine trees with rays of morning sun decorating it, terraces so beautiful they look like stairs leading to heaven, these are just few of the things we saw.

One of the guides quickly briefed us about the dangers we might encounter as we entered the great Sumaging cave. He emphasized on taking extra caution in every step and grip tightly on every stone or rock one could hold support with. (Did someone mention "Madulas ang puting bato!"?)

A chorus of whirring sounds and bats' droppings were waiting as we progress deeper in the cave. Upon reaching the mouth of Sumaging, everyone was shivering as cold struck again in our midst. We passed through the cave barefooted, crawled on every small holes and openings, waded in waist deep waters as we were impressed with the splendid rock formations of stalactites and stalagmites. The King's Curtain seemed impossible to surpass for we have to rappel one at a time to go down further. We are witnesses to different precious stones being taken care of over the past centuries that seem to have been crafted by the hands of God. Cauliflower, Pigpen, Giant's Foot, these were some of the names of enormous rocks which were chiseled in my mind as we advance through most of the difficult to pass tunnels. From huge to small, even butt-shaped and elephant like stones, it completely made us realize the value and existence of such creations in our homeland.

After a breathtaking experience over Sumaging, we stopped over at Lumiang Burial cave were coffins of the old swarmed the fear stricken place. As we gradually approach the entrance, silence grew within the walls of the cave. One coffin was lying open and scattered bones of the dead were evident.

It was way past 12 when we had lunch break at Masferre's Restaurant where huge flies buzzed around the food we ate. But we've seen a lot more photos pasted on the walls brilliantly exposing the lifestyles and cultures of the old Sagada. Pictures in black and white portrayed the ethnicity by the clothes they wore and the simplicity of their living.

to be concluded...