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| Shot taken 5:53AM “There is relatively little "color" in the life of the Bontoc Igorot. [...] this lack of "color," the monotony of everyday life, has to do with the continuation of head-hunting. The life of the Igorot is somber-hued indeed as compared with that of his more advanced neighbor, the Ilokano.” -Albert Ernest Jenks, The Bontoc Igorot (1905), Aesthetic Life, page 184 Around 2019, I have put Bontoc on my travel bucket list after reading a heart warming blog about their visit. Coincidentally, I downloaded an old random expat travel book from Archive.org about their stay in this town. Four years have passed then and I have forgotten about it— the blog, the book, and all my thoughts about it. Until, my former colleague posted about their own visit and so I thought it was familiar. I quickly made an impromptu trip for it and dragged my brother to accompany me. |
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| Stopping by the terraces (on descent) |
It was a Friday in November when I arrived at the Coda Lines station in Cubao around 8:30 PM, already tired but still hopeful the trip would go smoothly.
At the ticket booth, the agent casually told me, almost indifferently—that the bus was fully booked. I stepped aside and sat on a bench, trying to process what to do next. My brother was still stuck somewhere in traffic, inching his way toward Cubao. I pulled out my phone and started searching for alternative routes to Bontoc.
A lady sat beside me after asking at the booth. I turned to her, hoping for clarity—or at least shared confusion—and tried to make small talk. I asked where she was headed.
She answered with her inaudible and obviously frustrated voice. She immediately called someone, explaining the situation in a strained voice—that the bus was full, that there were no available seats, that things were not going according to plan.
When my brother arrived, we talked about the situation and planned on changing our destination to Baguio. We're both dejected since we're not excited for Baguio (we've been there a few times). We sat for a bit longer while I checked the nearest bus station to Baguio. Just then, the ticketing officer called us, he told while laughing with the conductor to give up his seat, and to give it to us. And so, we were handed out our tickets.
We left around 10PM. I then booked the same accommodation we previously reserved, canceled the previous month because of typhoon Paeng. The weather has forced us to travel impromptu and to take chances instead.
The foldable middle seat was far more uncomfortable than I expected. Sleep felt impossible. In front of me, the middle-seat passengers looked almost comical—necks stretched awkwardly, as if they were trying to escape their own bodies. One woman kept bumping her head every time the vehicle jolted, until she finally hugged her bag tightly against her chest, using it as a makeshift pillow.
I tried copying her, but I couldn’t even pretend to sleep. My body refused to cooperate.
By the time we reached Lagawe, we were finally able to change seats. For a moment, it felt like relief. But the road soon turned winding, and whatever comfort we gained quickly slipped away. Sleep remained out of reach.
The air grew colder than I had expected, seeping into my seat and settling in my bones. My feet turned numb, stiff and frigid, as if the journey itself was slowly freezing me in place.
Around 7AM at Banaue View Point, the bus gave us a 15-minute stop to allow the passengers to take pictures. After another hour, we arrived in Bontoc at Lizardo GL Bus Station. We made a quick stop at a Landbank ATM, and the locals were very respectful to pedestrians. Drivers always made a full stop to let people cross. After asking around for the jeepney station, we boarded the jeep bound for Maligcong. We left around 10AM. The waiting time was longer than the ride. Some passengers were domestic tourists as well. There was a homestay owner who talked to a group of travelers bound for another guesthouse. The conversation was kind and hospitable.
Ate Vilma welcomed us with happy and excited greetings. We shortly talked about our non-planned day, and her recommendations. We made quick decisions, and then settled ourselves. Around 3:30PM, we hiked Mt. Fato for the sunset view. Hergie, a shy high schooler, together with some dogs guided us to the summit. We talked a bit but mostly about the dogs. The pine trails were like a friendly walk that's just right for our tired selves. We hadn't had a proper sleep after all. The lovely ambiance told me that all my insistence to come was really worth it.
Around 5:30PM, we started to descend but the trail turned dark soon. We forgot to bring our flashlights. Thankfully we each brought our fully charged phones, and so we successfully returned unscathed from our uber spontaneous activity.
When we arrived at the homestay, Petr was ready for dinner. Petr was another guest from the Czech Republic and he traveled to Sagada that day. We shared the table for dinner and talked a lot about his trip. We learned he walked/hitchhiked the roads from Bontoc proper to Maligcong back and/or forth the homestay. Ate Vilma joined our conversation and we agreed to hike together with Petr the next day.
We woke up around 3:30AM and drank a cup of free unlimited coffee from the big thermo flask. At 4AM, we started to hike for Mt. Kufafey. After about an hour, we were already at the summit. We were really early because we barely stopped. It was chilly at the summit but our laughter made it comfortable and Hergie brought the coffee thermo flask. We drank coffee to further ease the chill. A big group of hikers arrived when the morning was about to break. They set up the bonfire area, and we shared it with them.
When sunrise arrived, it came with overcast skies and then drizzles. We didn't get the best scene at the summit. No sea of clouds awed us. Petr took more photos on his mirrorless camera. I picked a pine cone around the area. The warmth of the fire was so addicting that my brother usually stayed at the bonfire and I would also quickly come back to feel comfortable.
On descent around 7:30AM, we continued our long conversation about traveling in the Philippines, and also about backpacking in Europe. I learned some outsider perspectives on how it's like traveling in my own country. Traveler to traveler conversations were definitely exhilarating.
Around 10AM, we boarded a jeep that’s leaving on a personal trip to the town proper. We quickly prepared and checked-out after our descent. We rode on the top load and we got the best view of Bontoc town proper on the descending ride with only 3 passengers (best seat ever!)
At the town proper, we split up with Petr who was staying in Bontoc for another day. We stayed connected up until his exit in the Philippines. He shared his last misadventures in Banaue to Manila City (unideal arrival time and impromptu booking due to a scare in the alleys), and until his departure from NAIA T3 (walking 4 KM from highway to airport).
After booking our ticket at the station, we ate our lunch at a nearby cafeteria. The food was nothing special so I didn't take note of what we ate. The paid CR was not clean. Since we have another hour, we tried looking for the Bontoc Museum but we're unable to locate it through Google map. Since there wasn't much time left anyway, we returned to the bus station. I went to the pasalubong store. While paying for the cool t-shirts I selected, I asked the person minding the store for recommendations on specific local products that can only be bought in the area. It was an honest inquiry answered with a joke about the locals being Igorots. At that time, I wondered if it was an offensive question but later on I realized what the answer meant.
“I am returning again next year”, the very loud passenger says on the phone. We may have gone from different towns but the feeling was mutual. Unfortunately, the noisy passenger talked on the phone for over an hour, it became annoying. Eavesdropping on someone's personal tea would have been fun, but I wanted some respite. Fortunately, we were seated at the comfortable front seats. We got the driver’s view (truly a random win for the day). The cordillera mountains revealed itself to us on the morning ride. The vastness of the lush forests and verdure brought me November sublime feelings.
A few days after the trip, the pine cone I brought was blooming in my room. I realized how unaware I am about the pine trees of our country and pine cones in general. The coziness of this trip brought me memories that bloomed and now preserved like the pine cone in my studio apartment.
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