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 the horizon I saw waves forming, rolling onto the bed of waters and crashing onto the shores until nothingness all remained. The unknown pulled it back creating new waves from afar. Some were big as giants that can swallow every bits of existence on earth while some were small that are so-so music to ears and musing to eyes. Continue reading “Surfboards Attack”
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”