I’m a planner. I like things to be well-thought and organized. So when there are family or barkada outings, I usually take charge. I scour for promo fares, book accommodations, and research thoroughly to come up with a comprehensive itinerary. This is perhaps the reason why some friends label me as obsessive-compulsive.
Nobody from us would say it was an easy climb. Continue reading “The Climb”
My feet are getting numb. I think I can no longer make it to the summit, but there’s no point of turning back for I still need to walk anyway. Besides, I can almost breathe success here at Camp 8. The scent of nature seeps in through my nose. It’s the opportunity to recover all the air I lost from the old trail down. I can do this. Continue reading “Hiking Barefoot in Mt. Batulao”
From where I stand, the contour of Mt. Mayon flaunts its conical perfection. It’s quite the same in every single angle — from east to west and north to south. I have seen other mountains on our way here which I thought to be the volcano, but the fallacy was instantly rectified the moment I witnessed Mayon’s sophistication. Continue reading “She’s Like Mt. Mayon”
After an hour of wild 4×4 jeepney ride at the desert-like expanse of Crow Valley followed by a three-hour trek at the giant’s foot, we finally reached the summit of Mt. Pinatubo — an active stratovolcano named after a Tagalog word which means reared or nurtured. Continue reading “Rugged Expedition to Mt. Pinatubo”