Ah, Blessed Coolness

Shell and I spent last weekend in a part of the Philippines that I never guessed existed.

I was cold.

Which isn't to be unexpected, of course, when you're spending the weekend in the mountains at 1,477 meters, or some 4,800 feet.

Our rather spur-of-the-moment trip started at 5:00 Saturday morning. Not sure how long it would take to get to Baguio, and how long it would take to get beyond Baguio, we left without a clear plan in place.

North of Baguio, we came upon the highest point in the Philippine Highway System. I'm sure there is a stunning view from this overlook, but with the typhoon that's currently brewing northeast of the Philippines, we were left buried deep in a cloud, with little to see.

By this time, the roads were starting to deteriorate, partly due to the weather and partly due to the fact that, in developing countries, roads in remote areas almost always deteriorate.

The fog was thick, at times giving us just a few feet of visibility, the heavy rain often made us to keep the windshield wipers running on high, and slow busses and trucks grinding their way up the side of the mountains sometimes forced us to pass when we couldn't see exactly what was in the oncoming lane. Or even in our own lane.

But at least the roads were paved, right?

Right?

Yeah, it was a heck of a drive. I told Shelly later in the day that while it only took 12 hours to get to Sagada (which we had finally decided upon once we realized how slow the going would be north of Baguio), I really should get credit for 18 hours of driving, since half of it was in the rain and fog, driving on winding mountain roads. (She didn't buy that argument.)

And, when we weren't fogged in, we saw plenty of cool scenery, including this small bridge.

And, of course, the Mazda had lots of fun playing in the mud. By the time we got home, it was much muddier, but its passengers were too travel-fatigued to take another photo.

Finally, after 12 hours of driving, we arrived in Sagada, a town of 10,500 people stuck between towering mountain cliffs and located in the apty-named Mountain Province. Because there's not a lot to do in Sagada, it's a great place to relax in the cool mountain air, which topped out at about 19°C/66°F during the day and dropped to a delicious 15°C/59°F at night.

Our first order of business was to find a place to stay. Based solely on the name, Shelly picked the George Guest House, named not for her grandfather but for the owner's inlaws. For a little more than nine bucks, we had a clean room in a brand new building. The guest house itself sits atop a small office, liquor store and animal feed store.

It's amazing how tired you can get sitting on your butt driving all day, but we were asleep by 9:00, which meant that Shell felt entirely entitled to wake me up at 6:30 the next morning.

"Still sleeping," I protested.

"You've had nine hours of sleep!" she retorted. "Get up!"

"I drove 18 hours yesterday," I said. "Still sleeping."

"You drove 12 hours yesterday," she said, pulling the blankets off the bed. Plus, she pointed out, it wasn't raining yet, which would make our hiking more enjoyable. I couldn't really argue with that.

After breakfast at the Yoghurt House, we wandered down the main road for our first look at Sagada's famous hanging coffins. Because of its remote location, Sagada was able to able to maintain its ancient burial traditions while the Spanish forced other parts of the Philippines to convert
to Catholicism. Believing that the souls of their loved ones wouldn't be able to get out of a grave dug into the earth, coffins were instead hung on the sides of mountains.

We walked to the first cave with a local Jehovah's Witness who was on her way to Kingdom Hall in a neighboring town. Our trip back up the hill took us to St. Mary's Episcopal Church. Mountain Province is one of the few areas where the Episcopal Church is well-established in the Philippines. We didn't expect an English-language service, so we were surprised when we walked past the church halfway through the 8:30 service and heard the rector's sermon in English. We decided to sneak in, though this was technically impossible since, 1) we were the only white people in the building, and 2) like everywhere, most of the parishoners were sitting in the back of the church, forcing us to the front. After church, we continued our hike, through the cemetary and to see more hanging coffins.

The area around Baguio and north of the city is the Philippines' breadbasket. Much of the produce in Manila's grocery stores is from Baguio, and everywhere we looked we saw beautifully-terraced rice fields. It's also time for the cabbage harvest, and this pile of cabbages grew throughout the morning.

I'd love to go back -- we definiitely did not spend enough time in Mountain Province compared to the amount of time it took us to get there. And, any time I have the chance to escape the heat and humidity of Manila, if even for just a couple of days, I'll take it.