If I look at this picture now and pretend the rest didn't happen, I could imagine it to be somewhere in Switzerland, Lake Geneva perhaps. I have never been there but I pictured it to be this lovely. Serene and surreal. Like a painting. It does look like paradise or one of those postcards from Provence, or any of those charming towns in the countryside of Italy or France.
Clear emerald lake. Beautifully craggly peaks. The absence of men and our excesses--of buildings, or cellsites or irritating billboards. There's no electricity here, or water pipelines. Just Nature at its most elemental.
The trip to this lake took close to seven hours. Three hours to the nearest town, an hour of off-road travel through a landscape reminiscent of the moon's surface-- bumpy and craggly as hell. And then a long walk. Close to two hours of trekking through a desolate landscape of boulders and eroded landwalls. Little brooks of clear water cut through the vista of brown, leathered land. And then halfway through, a gradual change. Little burst of greeneries, the brooks widening into a rustle of natural springs. We walk through them, cutting through the cold comfort of fresh spring water soothing our hot and tired feet.
In the final 15 minutes looms a formidable length of makeshift steps to the view deck. The guide tells us there are one hundred steps to the top. On the 80th step I curse inwardly, how could they not possibly provide and easier way to get here? Inside I tell myself, there is nothing worth this much hassle--- a day spent with no real bathrooms, no eating tables, just cold baon and a view that I could now only think is dissapointing. I tell my know-it-all, been-there-done-that self how anything can be more beautiful than the Highlands of Scotland, or Mt. Fuji in Spring, or even Sagada and its enchanting air.
Then I step up to this < Jaw dropped>
You see a place like this and you understand why you have to go through the incovenience of bumpy rides, and three hour treks. You appreciate that more than money, it is your resolve, your own strength and determination that saw you through, to arrive at this place.
It is so worth every minute of thirst, every discomfort from the heat and the rocky paths. How behind the mountains lies something so beautiful and new, something created during our lifetime, by a perfect being.
Our group turn quiet. Hushed momentarily by unbelief. We dip ourselves into the water, ride a boat to reach the other side of this painting.
There is nothing to do but to gaze and wonder, talk and be buoyed by such a discovery. A place so perfect it just seemed unreal. Unbelievable. That it exists here in the Philippines. This crater lake of Mt. Pinatubo. Nature's beautiful memento of an otherwise disastrous event in our history.
The lake shifts in color as the hours come. An hour passes and the emerald deepens into a deep algae color, then to an almost shimmery light blue. An hour lolling through a makeshift duyan, an hour of sleeping with such a beautiful background, then we, visitors of this paradise, leave with our garbage, but we trek with a happy, satisfied smiles. The beauty of Pinatubo still within us. And we so happily leave with the images, our pics in our digicam safe and protected. Eager to let others in on our new discovery.
