Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Flights and Passages: The Allure of Travel (Part 2 of 2)

Kaibigan Falls, Pagudpud.


I have made it a point to never travel with someone I cannot stand in day-to-day life, even if he’s a friend. Relationships are weird, don’t you think? There are people we are close to and who we consider as friends, but with whom we can’t imagine embarking on a long trip because of marked differences in lifestyles and beliefs. But it’s true. So it's wise and sane to choose to embark on a trip only with people that you’re comfortable with,to find someone with similar travel goals.

I always go for something small. In twos or at most four. It is something that I value in my travels, the chance to (re)discover myself and my companion, thus the small group. I have mostly travelled on a one-on-one basis with friends. And it has never failed me.

As when I went to Bangkok with my best friend. I was our first major travel vacation. And it was a blast despite the unexpected heat, despite us becoming temporarily deaf and sick with colds and headaches for the most part of the trip, despite the hassles of hiring a jerk for a guide, and despite the dust and the disappointment of discovering that parts of Thailand, or Bangkok at least, is as dirty and as smelly as Manila. It was for us a minor triumph to be able to watch that much-touted live show of Bangkok. To go through the motions of visiting the temples, enjoying the cruise along the river, riding the Tuk-Tuk and shopping at Chatuchak. But sometimes, when we look back at that trip we laugh at how for both of us, the highlight of the trip was an unplanned visit to a theme park on the outskirts of Bangkok. And it was not because the theme park was particularly impressive. It was small, similar to the theme park in Manila. But it didn’t matter because at Wonder Land for the first time in years we had the chance to revert back to our young, crazy selves. How we tirelessly repeated our favorite rides, And how we didn’t for once care that we were funky and wet from the water drop ride we just took, how dripping wet and all, we’d gone directly to the roller coaster ride giggling at the look of the people who saw us.

It’s the same with HK. Compared to Seoul and Yokohama, cities I’ve lived in for sometime, HK was a letdown. But it didn’t matter that we were disappointed with the place and the much hyped-about attractions, it was memorable just because it afforded me and someone I care about deeply some time to be by ourselves, to get to know each other again in an environment that’s unfamiliar to both of us thus more freeing and conducive to discovering parts of us that we never really had the chance to show.

But what I cherish most from my travels the past year was this: it afforded me a renewed love for the multi-faceted beauty of my homeland. The still idyllic beaches of Pagudpud and Bohol, the awe-inspiring trek to the Banaue Rice Terraces, the charm of the mountain villages in Sagada, rediscovering what it is about Davao that I love (wide spaces, unhurried way of living, the sea and mountain just an hour away), and the challenge of conquering my fear of dark spaces and high slippery caverns when we went caving in one of Sagada’s caves. It makes me realize that there are hidden gems that I, in my shortsighted visions of adventures abroad, have yet to discover. I’ve set a few ultimate to-dos that I hope to achieve in a few years. To climb to the top of Mount Apo, go whitewater rafting at the Chico River in Cagayan. And although at the moment, I am not fit enough to do these physical adventures, I am taking small steps to get ready.
One day though, even if just for a week or a few days, I will disappear . And travel alone, with only a backpack and my wits to guide me. It is my ultimate aspiration to find the time, the inclination, and funds when I’d be ready to go off and search an adventure that would be mine alone. To know how it feels. To be a part of these women whom I admire so much, they who backpack alone to places such as Cambodia, Laos or even Europe. To be so fearful yet open to whatever it is that the soil, that land you walk on, the people you meet may bring.