Halsema Highway Horror

Halloween is creeping around the corner.

Been lying in bed for days, impaired by the sniffles. While I impatiently wait for our flight out of schizo-weathered Sydney on Monday, I hang around my Facebook account's news feed, swarmed by spooky improvised walker costumes and even spookier ghost stories from people who claim to have the third eye. I haven't had a paranormal encounter myself, but I got an equally terrifying untold true story.

Vista from the viewing deck at the highest point of the Philippine highway system.

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story... Halsema Highway Horror. Okay, so you guys go "What the heck is the Midnight Society?" cause you're from a different era or from outer space. Well I tell you, that society rocks. At least twenty years ago.

Invited to witness a traditional ceremony in Sagada, day before the accident.
I am starting off with a light tone, but my story is anything but. And it begins at the end of our Sagada trip in March last year. I hired a van at the last minute, as requested by my sis-in-law. Fished the contact number off a random homemade poster pasted on a souvenir shop's wall. Two days prior, we arrived at this quaint municipality aboard a rusty bus from Baguio City. Because the sis-in-law and her beau (who came all the way from Australia) were on a short vacay, they preferred swifter and stress-free modes of transport. And a Lizardo Bus is definitely not one of them.

Long drive from Sagada to Baguio. Speaking of Halloween, may Luna's adorable, bewildered look steer your eyes away from her father's horrifying mustache.
Our driver picked us up from the guesthouse and helped us pile our backpacks in the van's rear compartment area. Our minds were clouded with jovial memories of this whirlwind trip. Sis-in-law, who's a geologist by profession, was still raving about the caves. Her beau, who was then traveling Southeast Asia for the first time, adored the local handicraft so much that he hoarded bulols/bululs in assorted sizes. Even a serpent-shaped cane that later became a cumbersome hand carry. And for the hubby and I, well, we were simply happy to revisit with our six-month-old infant Luna.

Flashing uneasy smiles. Behind these folks, our ill-fated ride.
One by one we scrambled into the van. Simultaneously, we all put our feet up even before the engine roared. Already we were savoring the luxuriousness of an ordinary, hired van. Our crammed tummies (thanks to an early morn trip to Yoghurt House for our nth Hiker's Delight) signaled, we need not make stops any time soon. Except, a quickie obligatory pictorial at the highest point of the Philippine highway system in Atok, Benguet. It was gonna be the ninth time that I'm passing through zigzaggin' Halsema Highway, and I didn't want to miss the chance of actually stepping on it.  

Our driver and the victim's parents, settling to an agreement.
I positioned myself on the front seat so there's plenty of space on the second row for our daughter to have a full horizontal slumber. The hubby's mostly assigned in holding our daughter during rides because we assume that he can grip our daughter tighter than I could in case yah know, the driver hits the brakes unexpectedly. I immensely enjoyed my seat for I had unobstructed views of the mountain range. The driver and I barely chattered, we let ourselves succumb to our private thoughts.

Lutheran Hospital.
About an hour into our drive, we were cruising by a cluster of modest houses perched atop cliffs. It must have been around eleven in the morn, I had (and still have) no idea where we were, but the highway seemed busy on both lanes. Up ahead I caught sight of kids playing by the highway, and what happened in the next few seconds was one of the scariest moments in my life! I watched, in horror, one of the girls sprint across the highway. She made it halfway safely for she saw the truck on her left, but she did not see us coming. The truck that just passed was so massive that it concealed our approaching van. We appeared from her blindside.

As a fellow mum, I felt the pain of the victim's mother.
 The driver saw her too and skillfully stepped on the brakes in a manner that didn't send us all flying out of our seats. We didn't crash into her. But she crashed into us. The loud thud produced by her head hitting the corner of our bumper dispatched a chill up my spine. I remember seeing her being thrown off a couple of meters, seemingly in slow motion. She landed on the concrete pavement and rolled twice. When she came to a stop, her face was towards us with eyes half open. I feared for the worst.

Shortly after, her parents ran towards her motionless body. The mom shook her vigorously. In her eyes I saw a longing for the faintest response. I felt out of breath. The driver, still recovering from his own shock, managed to find his voice. "Dalhin natin sa ospital (Let's bring her to the hospital)!", he shouted at the top of his lungs. The dad carried the girl in his arms and hopped in the van, the mom hurriedly followed.

Although we were all shook up, we still did that stop.
To everyone's relief, the girl began to cry as we rushed to a not-so nearby hospital. A few drops of blood trickled from her mouth, but no cut was visible on her head. She had scratches too on her arms and legs, but none of them required stitching. We worried about internal hemorrhage. The drive to the hospital felt way too long, but it could have just lasted half an hour (as suggested by the timestamp on my photos). The girl was rushed to the emergency room and was advised to undergo an X-ray exam. Meanwhile a policeman was called upon to settle the case.

The girl's parents didn't file a complaint, and our driver volunteered to shoulder the medical expenses (which hopefully was cheaper than the amount we paid for the van). Never learned about the X-ray result, but before we left the hospital, the doctor said her vitals looked alright. I might have exclaimed Hallelujah! in my mind.

Everyone lived to fight another day.


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Azalea Residences Baguio: Highland Holiday Haven

The aroma of bacon sizzling in its own fat wafted through the hallway. I sipped my fave instant coffee as I watched my folks tickle our daughter 'til she ran out of breath. Hubby was sprawled on the carpet, his eyes transfixed on the telly screen but couldn't understand the Tagalog morning news show... Sweet mornings are made of these. But nope, we weren't home. We were cozily settled in the folks' deluxe room in Azalea Residences Baguio.


Azalea Residences' playground. The baby doll flashes her smile of approval.
Just the day before, hubby and I summited Mt. Pulag for a uhm, masochistic Mother's Day shindig. My parents babysat our daughter while we were away, in a dorm we rented for three nights in Baguio City. Our stay in Azalea Residences was an extended celebration of Mother's Day, the kind that most families do. Slack and stress-free.


A warm welcome.
It was one of our rare, luxe family vacays. Made possible by Azalea Residences. You see, a week prior, I was invited for a free overnight stay in this hotel alongside fellow travel bloggers. Part of the familiarization tour was a cook-off between the ladies and gents. Why? Because each suite has an in-room kitchen and dining, that's why.


The winning team describing their dishes to the judges. One of them is the chef.
Each team was given P1,000 to prepare an appetizer, main course, and dessert good for four servings. Even though the men's team's dishes (Bitterness ahead!) didn't have a "Baguio flavor" to it (Which was part of the criteria.) and though they didn't finish on time, they won. Okay, okay... Their "Pako Park Salad" was delish. Ugh. Their prize was a gift certificate worth a deluxe room for four, while our consolation prize was a deluxe room for two.

An obligatory shot, I reckon.
So that explains how we scored such room. And since the room can only accommodate my parents (The room's actually big enough for four but the hotel allows a maximum of only two guests.), we booked another deluxe room at our own expense. We did so via their website which was then offering its cheapest hotel rates, 30% off on weekends and 40% off on weekdays if reserved online! It's still offered as of writing. Awesomest. Deal. Ever.


Deluxe room's inviting bed.
This highland haven has 99 suites, ideal to different sorts of groups. From honeymooners and babymooners, to rowdy barkadas, to holidaying families. There's flat screen telly with cable connection and a DVD player for each suite. You could bring your own DVDs or rent from the hotel. There's also an iron, hair dryer, and safety deposit box. Guests checked in with babies can ask for a crib. WiFi reaches the suites.


Mum gamely poses for the camera, she loved her stay!
Also, each suite as mentioned earlier, has its own fully equipped kitchen (Fridge, stove, microwave oven, electric water kettle.) and dining area. Utensils are provided, while pots and pans are available upon request. Now if you don't feel like cooking or dining out, you could head to Tradisyon Coffee Shop at the lobby for a meal. Or 8 Degrees Lounge if you want that with a bottle of buzz. The hotel offers spa and massage services as well, why not try 'em when you're done with that bottle?

I could lay on their carpet couch for hours.
Azalea Residences lives up to its "your holiday haven" tag line. The receptionists, bell men and housekeepers are polite and welcoming. A trait that's evidently consistent, whether they're dealing with bloggers on a familiarization tour or paying guests. I witnessed this first hand. You gotta see and experience yourself!


Visit their website for the latest deals www.azalea.com.ph or call the Manila office +632 5794890. Azalea Residences Baguio sits on Leonard Wood Loop, an alley off Leonard Wood. How to get there: Most taxi drivers, if not all, know where the hotel is. The mere mention of Azalea is enough. If you wish to take a jeep, walk to lower Mabini Street where jeeps heading to Mines View Park are lined up. Ask the driver to be dropped off Leonard Wood Loop, less than 200 meters past PNKY Home Bed and Breakfast.

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Mt. Pulag National Park, Benguet: Mother's Day Climb

I switched stifling yawns and suppressing chuckles whilst straddled on the bench of our hired pink jeep (Yep you heard me, pink!). A more sluggish hubby donning tightish jeans was seated on the jeep's roof, the only one from our gang of eight who did so. The thought of him climbing Mt. Pulag, Luzon's highest peak, later that day in them jeans sent me to a constant snicker fit.


Postcard-worthy snapshot by the RoadWorthyMan.
You see, just twenty-two hours earlier aboard a Baguio-bound bus, he decided to join the climb which my mountaineering pal Christine organized months prior as my welcome-back-home shindig. Thanks to Baguio's ukay stores, we were able to buy him a cheap down jacket and long sleeved top. We purchased a pair of trekking shoes too, which luckily was on sale. Hubby refused to shell out more bills for new pants however, thus his biker-meets-hiker getup.


Now didn't I tell you it's pink? Hubby still beaming, midway the bumpy ride.
Our jeep just left the DENR office (where we attended a quick briefing about Mount Pulag National Park) and was literally bouncing its way on ridiculously rough road to the jump-off point, Badabak Ranger Station. Occasionally we did stops to haul another jeep following us, loaded with even more passengers. And occasionally I yelled "I don't want to be a single mom!" outside the window which the hubby took as cue to hop off the roof. He began feeling terrified anyway when his camera panned through a backdrop consisting of a cliff just below his dangling feet.


Badabak Ranger Station, before things got dirrrty. Photo from Izah's cam, taken by our guide Ditas.
The usual one hour drive from the DENR office to the ranger station took almost two. We were all bushed when we stepped out of the jeep. I immediately felt a familiar light-headedness, caused by the thin air. Prolly by lack of sleep too. Our motley crew that was composed of me, the hubby, Christine, Olay, Izah and boyf Joseph (Who baked kickass choco chip cookies for us!), Marky and Erick groggily gobbled our takeaway lunch at the ranger station's front porch before pushing on.

Female porters made the hike look easy, breezy. Made me look like a weakling too. Pfft.
The impending downpour pumped up our supposedly "chillax" pace (Ambangeg trail may be the easiest way to Mt. Pulag's peak, but it sure ain't something I'd call "chillax"!). We didn't want to exhaust ourselves more than necessary, but we certainly didn't want to pitch our tent under the rain. I huffed and puffed my way to Camp 2, and during our breaks I longed for a porter but a better part of me said "Heck no!". For the last two hundred meters, hubby sprinted to the camping area to start pitching the tent. He left me to my thoughts. The others were far behind and I trekked alone.

Post speed-pitching. Pre debate about where the tent door must face (This is why we haven't seriously considered buying a house yet.).
In that solitude, my adventure flame was reignited. This flame died for the nth time months ago, which coincided with that burnt-out after effect only a round-the-world trip with a toddler could induce. With a sudden surge of renewed energy, I hiked with ease the last few meters of gradual ascent to Camp 2, where Marky and the hubby were already pitching tents. Or at least, trying to. Both required extra hands, non-frozen ones, dexterous enough to work them poles and pegs.

Breaking dawn.
Those hands arrived almost half an hour after. And our overnight climber's commune was setup in just fifteen minutes. Before the rain poured, we were able to quickly cook dinner. Dinner at 3:00 PM. "Lights out" (More aptly called "when brains conked") followed at 4. The dreaded, infamous frigorific climate enveloped the camp just before twilight.

En route to Mt. Pulag's highest peak.
At 2:30 AM the next day, one by one we emerged from our respective tents. Every step was a battle. I couldn't feel my fingers. I couldn't feel my nose. Despite all that, hubby's jeans still made me chuckle. And everyone's Mother's Day greeting left a smile on my numb face (Was I really smiling?). After a light brekkie, we hiked the final one-hour leg to the peak. One hour of trudging on mud and in near-total darkness. Halfway the trek, Erick played the most awesome scoring for that morn, Lovely Day. "Then I look at you (Mt. Pulag), and the world's alright with me. Just one look at you and I know it's gonna be a lovely day...", that is of course until we did the equally challenging descent.

This backpacker mum still got it, we survived Mt. Pulag!
Atop Mt. Pulag's Peak 1 I held the hubby's hand. Throughout the trip, it was the time I felt most thrilled that he's with us. My second Mother's Day was even more insane than the first one that involved caressing a Burmese Python. This mum's definitely not the kind who hits the spa on special occasion (Unless someone else pays for it. And my hubby's not the type who does.). I still got that oomph. Why did I ever doubt myself?

I am but a speck.
Though the sea of clouds was a no show, I remained a happy camper. Summitting Luzon's highest peak in itself is a feat I will proudly share with our daughter Luna in the future (With priceless photos of her baba hiking in jeans to back up my story). On the way back to our camp, Luna's giggles echoed in my head (A.K.A. becoming delusional.). I couldn't wait to be reunited with her in Baguio later that day. Ugh, I'm such a mum.

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Random 11 of 2011

2011's a year of fulfilling dreams: Living in Baguio, visiting India, backpacking with my parents, flying our daughter overseas for the first time, and finally kicking off our round-the-world vagabonding. Each waking day, I am thankful that everything's falling into place and we never take this opportunity for granted. The hubby and I strive hard in keeping our online jobs so as to continue this unconventional nomadic lifestyle... Until we get tired of it.

There's really nothing more I could ask for right now. Okay, except pinakbet for Noche Buena.

I've been to five countries plus one SAR this year, and here are eleven random travel moments off the top of my head (because it's a gargantuan task to select which trips to categorize under "The Best Of"):

1. Mt. Cabuyao hike, Benguet. An easy, breezy day hike with my mounaineeresque friends. My first after giving birth four months prior.


2. Being part of SEAir's Winter Batanes Tour. It gave me the chance to not only revisit Batanes but also to meet a wacky bunch of bloggers: James, Izah, Leon, Mike, Bless, and Batanes maven Engr. Joseph Dy (thanks Engr. for this photo!).


3. Eating Indian food in India. One of my fave cuisines everrr.


4. I was sorta forced to attend the Panagbenga Festival. I actually thought it was just going to be some chaotic parade, but hey, it was beautifully chaotic.


5. Took my geologist sis-in-law (who lives in Australia) to Mt. Pinatubo. For her, it was a dream trek come true.


6. Entering Dambulla Cave Temple, a UNESCO World Heritage site (that dates back to the 1st century BC) in Sri Lanka.


7. Brought the whole family to Macau. It was my parents' first time to travel overseas. Luna's too.


8. My application for a U.S.A. visa was unexpectedly approved. Luna and I tagged along the hubby's business trip in California (sponsored by the company). We managed to squeeze a few sightseeing jaunts, such as our accidental visit in San Simeon where we saw elephant seals in their natural habitat.


9. Spent my 31st birthday hiking at Greater Blue Mountains, Australia.


10. Flew back to California and stayed for a month for the hubby's work. We braved the winter cold in San Francisco for an Alcatraz tour.


11. Climbed up Piramide de la Luna with our little Luna in Teotihuacan, and watched Aztec dancers stomp along the Avenue of the Dead while the sun slowly dipped. Surreal. We'll be here in Mexico for Christmas and New Year's eve as well.



To describe 2011 as awesome, is such an understatement... I raise my jigger of mezcal to more adventures mi amigos. I am sooo ready for you 2012! Salud!

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BenCab Museum

A sack of rice, boxes of groceries, and baskets of farm produce queued along the jeepney aisle. Passengers reshaped shifted every time a new one squeezed in, like tetrominoes in a Tetris game. My legs were devoid of sensation and my arms tried to position themselves comfortably but to no avail. I was, after all, holding our then four-month old Luna who was about to throw a tantrum.

BenCab Museum's facade.
At ten in the morning, it took more than half an hour to fill up that jeepney. Enough time to agitate an infant with a one-minute attention span. I heaved a sigh of relief when we finally drove out of Baguio's city center. Luna calmed down. Vehicular motion hushed her to a shuteye.

"BenCab's 32 Variations On Sabel", glaze on mariwasa tiles.
Our ride rolled toward the winding Asin Road in Barangay Tadiangan of Tuba, Benguet. Though we descended to roughly 1,200 meters above sea level (from 1,500), the nippy climate showed no variance for dark clouds hovered above this side of the mountainous Cordillera region. My husband, daughter and I alighted after about a twenty-minute drive.

Gallery Indigo. Showcases different artworks every month.
The destination for that day, National Artist BenCab's (Benedicto Reyes Cabrera) museum. This museum housed in a modern structure is a sight to behold. Perched atop a cliff just off the road, the facade's black and gray hues pop out of the nature-toned background.

A plentitude of rice granary gods, locally called bulul/bulol, seemingly suspended in air.
We passed through its huge doors, and stepped into deafening silence. The guard called out to the receptionist who was missing from her desk. His voice reverberated across the hall. We paid P100 each for admission and didn't ask for a guide. After which I browsed the merchandise at the museum shop near the entrance, and left soon after realizing I won't be able to buy anything with my measly budget.

Cordillera Gallery.
The various galleries are segmented by floors, rooms and halls. Collections of artworks made not only by BenCab, but also by other Filipino artists using different media are showcased. Among my faves are: BenCab Gallery, Cordillera Gallery and the provocative Erotica Gallery.

BenCab's "Woman with Fan". For my friend and fellow travel blogger Christine, who totally looks like her.
An hour, give or take, I reckon is enough to peruse everything. If you come by on a weekday, there's a high probability that you'll have the entire museum to yourself. Spare another hour to drink a pot of tea at Cafe Sabel and stroll around the adjacent farm which the artist and other locals tend. Well, that's what we did.

Cafe Sabel. So who is Sabel? That's for you guys to find out.
And we would have stayed longer had it not started drizzling. Though the museum could easily be the perfect refuge from an impending storm, we were not thrilled with the possibility of being stranded because Luna was with us. We drearily left as soon as the drizzle turned faint.

Gazebo, sitting in the middle of the duck pond.
After waiting for fifteen minutes in front of the museum for a jeep, we agreed to start walking toward the city center. We already expected that we'd have a difficult time going home for jeeps here are deficient. Heck, we were even mentally (not so much physically) prepared to trek walk six kilometers. But lo and behold, a jeepney emerged out of a side street, just as we passed the Wood Carver's Village and picked us up.

The mountain gods have been kind to us.

Trip's Nitty Gritty

1. How to get there: Jeeps to Kilometer 6 are stationed along Kayang Street near Baguio City's public market. Fare is P10.

To get there via car/private transport, read the directions here.

2. Museum hours 9:00 AM - 6:00 PM. Cameras are allowed, no flash however.

For more info, visit their website.

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Mt. Cabuyao, Benguet: Into the Clouds

Not quite Mt. Pulag. But like other mountains in the Cordillera Region of the Philippines, Mt. Cabuyao at 2,025 meters above sea level, is almost constantly engulfed in a sea of clouds even on a clear summer day. Its renowned two discs called 'radar' by locals perched atop the peak, though gargantuan, could easily hide out of sight.

Approaching Mt. Cabuyao's peak.
It was the last week of January this year, I shivered as I walked up and down Session Road at six in the morn. Baguio was experiencing one of its coldest months of all time. The lowest temperature recorded that month was a freezing 9.6 degrees centigrade.

Amidst the darkness of dawn, I caught a glimpse of three figures strolling my way. It didn't take long for me to recognize who they were. Hearing one woman's boisterous laughter was enough for me to know.

I met up with my old mountaineering buddies. There's Christine of the Jovial Wanderer, Tristan, and his girlfriend Morena who I met for the first time. The previous night, the three just arrived in Baguio from Sagada. My family have been living in the city for almost three months already, but have not been outdoors much. So when I received their invite for a climb, even with a toe nail that completely chipped off which left me limping, I blurted a resounding yes.

Climbing Pinays rock! Me, Christine, and Morena. Somewhere off the paved trail.
We were soon on our way to the jump off point after a quick brekkie at Pizza Volante, one of the few food joints that's open early in the morn. It only took us one jeep ride to get to Green Valley from the city proper. The driver dropped us off at the end of his route.

I tied the knot of my handicapped toe's makeshift cast made of mesh ribbon tighter in preparation for the hike. It sure is a minor climb, but even walking on flat ground was burdensome for me. I was armed with a liter of water and an expectation that I could bum off trail food from the person who's got a stockpile of it, *cough* Christine *cough*. And so, we began our hike.

Bird's eye view of Marcos Highway.
Our pace was snail speed. No one was in a rush. It's been almost a year and a month since my last gruesome trek. I was then two months pregnant, and with the encouragement of my bacpacking-partner-slash-hubby I braved the seven falls of Mambukal in Murcia, Bacolod City.

So it's been a while. A very long while since I conquered a mountain. A very long while since I had that empowering feeling that can only be attained through summiting peaks. I relished every step. For every step represented a temporal freedom from the insane abyss of motherhood. And every step symbolized the courage to hold on to my individual self. Yes I am a mom, but I am also a mountaineer.

Benguet, into the clouds.
Though these random, abstruse thoughts were running in my head, I was merrily catching up with the group. And eating Christine's food. Being with them always makes me feel alive. Our hike (about 5 kilometers) lasted for almost two hours, snail speed remember? We intended to reach Mt. Sto. Tomas, the highest point in Baguio. But because of laziness a misunderstanding with locals (they told us we're already in Sto. Tomas, referring to the baranggay not the mountain) and dark clouds approaching, we all agreed to hike back once we have reached the two radio transmitters. We couldn't risk getting stuck up there in the rain for they were heading to Manila in the afternoon.

Plus, my hubby and then 4-month old infant (who was low on milk!) were locked out of the house and I had the keys. They waited for almost five hours for me to come home. The hubby's first words when I arrived, "Did you enjoy your climb?".

The backpacker mum savoring an infant-free morning.
Trip's Nitty Gritty:

1. How to get to Mt. Cabuyao/Mt. Sto. Tomas jump off: Jeeps to Green Valley at the time of our trip were parked along Shagem Street, between the streets of Abanao and Otek. Fare was about P15. Takes a while for the jeep to get packed.

2. Drive from Baguio City proper to Green Valley's about half an hour. Driver will drop you off at the end part of the jeep's route. Just follow the ascending paved road.

3. There's no admission fee collected.

4. If you feel like hitching a ride going down, there are few vehicles that do pass, mostly trucks or jeeps transporting newly harvested veggies.

5. Jeeps heading back to the city proper from the jump off point are rare. Ask for the schedule. Cabs are a few as well.


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Snapshot Saturday: Cure-Dillera

Have you been to Cure-Dillera?
A pharmacy near Dangwa Station, Baguio City. Cure-Dillera is a phonetic play on the name Cordillera, a mountainous region, north of the Philippines.

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Hot Springs In The Cold

It took a hair-pulling half hour to pack the jeep with passengers. Our then two-month old daughter was getting fidgety. My legs were deadened for getting stuck in an awkward position, and couldn't stretch them because the floor was occupied by sacks of rice and baskets filled with farm produce.

Baguio City's full on frigid in November. It's been two weeks since we moved to our rented house, and already my hubby and I were dying to head somewhere warmer, even for just a few degrees.

Palm Grove's main pool. Mountains serve as a soothing backdrop.
That jeep transported us to Asin in Tuba, Benguet. The 45-minute zigzagging ride reminded me of Halsema Highway, in a strange mix of fond and terrifying aspect. The landscape is stunning, but I was too queasy to be all ecstatic.

We got off at the last stop. The Tourist Assistance Center, not too far from where we alighted, looked a bit dodgy to me. An old lady sprawled on its front steps, selling a heap of cucumber. The office seemed deserted.

Reception and souvenir shop.
To our right we read a sign, "Palm Grove Hot Springs and Mountain Resort". The structure's an odd sight in the middle of mountainous nowhere. Interesting, nonetheless. We walked to the reception and paid the P100 admission fee.

The resort was a box full of surprises. For one, we didn't expect it to be full of day trippers. And two, there's a big octopus slide at the main pool, which certainly looks weird (c'mon, a pink octopus?!), in the highlands. Also, a slew of Koreans (possibly Baguio residents as well) were there for the bath house spa.

Since we didn't intend to stay long, I shrugged off the idea of renting a picnic table and instead sat on a pool chair and laid our daughter Luna beside me. She was agitated with the heat. Asin's sitting on a lower altitude compared to Baguio. Though its climate's perfect for us, it ain't working for Luna's long sleeved top.

I undid her clothes, lied down myself, and watched the merrymakers in the pool.

At the balcony of the resort's in-house coffee shop, with a view of the Olympic-sized pool and the bath house spa.
Shervin was done with his dip in half an hour. Teensters in the pool were already getting rowdy, it was our cue to pack up.

From afar, the coffee shop didn't look inviting but we went anyways. Well, it's got the same impact when you're inside. We were famished but didn't find the menu enticing either. The dishes were pricey, and we'd rather spend that amount of cash in a more known resto.

Left: An empty hot spring bath. Right: Celebrating our second year since we became steadies.
So we resolved to having a bottle of beer each. Not a drop more to keep the little one safe. I savored a gulp, it was going to be a long ride home.

Trip's Nitty Gritty:

1. How to get there: Terminal of jeeps going to Asin Hot Springs (do not take the Asin Road jeep for it doesn't reach the resorts) is along Kayang Street near the public market. Fare as of November 2010 is P25.

Jeeps won't leave until they're full, so expect to wait 30-45 minutes if it ain't rush hour.

2. Admission fee for adults is P100, children under 4 feet P50. Picnic tables good for 10-12 persons can be rented for P200, gazebo with private grill for 15-20 persons is P800.

3. Alcoholic beverages are not allowed to be taken in. Beer can be bought from the coffee shop, P40 a bottle.

4. Coffee shop's meals range from P130 (pasta) to P285 (seafood dishes).

5. Operating hours 8:00 AM-5:00 PM. Indoor/outdoor hot bath and jacuzzi use has a specific schedule. Ask the reception for it.

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