I’ve been killing myself for the past months and I’m aching for a break from the chains. Like what i always do, I hop a bus to Baguio, tag a friend and wake up to the cool breeze. The long drive doesn’t count anymore, although the bus had 3 stops making the ride complete 8 hours of butt breaking travel.
The city though now pestered with tons of public vehicles and annoying vendors still does me good in more ways than I know of. It has been my tradition to visit Cafe by the Ruins and scribble my thoughts on paper as I gulp fresh brewed coffee, this time is different since it was our first stop. It’s also Ed’s first time in Baguio so I showed him the best place I know.
I ordered for Carbonara and he had meatball spaghetti. More often than not, I order for dishes I cant prepare myself, its a different story with Ruins, coz this is the origin of my love for white sauce pasta. But I must admit it tasted 10x better about 10 years or more ago. We also had the famous kamote bread with liver pate, simply mouth watering.
I’ve been going to Baguio since I was a pea but have never been to Tam Awan Village, the garden in the sky. its not much but its always refreshing to be able to visit places you know existed but have not been able to go to. I enjoyed having organic soya coffee at Arko ni Apo just across the main village gate, there,Ed bumped into friends whom we met later that night at Nevada.
bridge way
Ifugao houses
taking photos of paintings are prohibited, but the sign was mounted somewhere people don’t normally look at when coming in. I already took this pic before I knew, my bad.
slowing down with soya coffee in Arko ni Apo Gallery
From the village, we headed for an early dinner at one of my new Baguio routines–Pizza Volante. for a moment there, i thought i was gonna get sick after biting into fresh onions on the chili con carne pizza we ordered for. The dining experience was great as usual and food is A ok!
No fratboy chasing us this time, that makes it even better.
We harked back to our room to freshen up and get ready to party, Its a saturday night and we’re on vacay, what else can you do? Gettin ready, Ed and I got crazy we put on a show on ourselves and played halloween puttin on black lipstick and fake stitches.
I must have ended drunk and tired of prancing that night, i wasn’t able to snap at least one photo. Drinking beer in such cool weather is heaven. We started off with a few bottles in that bar I cant remember the name of and met with the cool couple Eon and Jayce down at Fridays.
Meeting Eon is like going into a ball of strings, he’s an acquaintance of Ed, a blogmate of Martin, a schoolmate in college and im pretty sure there’s one more that i cant remember.
Sunday morning found me so uneager to get up from late night of alcohol and long walk from Nevada to session road. Lunch was penned at 12nn at Little John’s in Camp John Hay, which due to the growing population of Koreans in Baguio has been appropriately renamed Kim Jung Hei. We got there on time and waited a while for the couple, waited to be seated only to find out the baby back ribs I have dreamt of is no more! damn!
Finally, at the Manor, it suddenly seemed like a lazy Sunday when you feel like sitting around sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes, having an intellectual conversation while looking at vast greens and old couples reading books together by a fountain. It sure is a picture of the sweet life. For that one day, that very moment–that was my idea of slowing down and being good to myself sans the cigarettes. I knew I was ready to go back to reality. I knew i have to travel down south to see my family, however chaotic it may be.
Derailed Thoughts 