I love easy and short hikes. I do not like those long tiring climbs. Give me a 1 out of 5 difficulty level and I am in.
I have my reasons. First, I do not like carrying big bags when climbing. I am not like my dad who is a regular hiker who hordes a lot of hiking gears, bags and shoes. I am his opposite when it comes to climbing. One small bag is enough to fit an extra shirt, a liter of water, my asthma inhaler, an energy bar and a small pack of sour gummy worms. Second, I am a lazy hiker. Long hikes bore me. I love summits but sometimes I find the trail very usual. Third, I consider myself a city guy and not a nature guy. Don’t get me wrong. I love nature and I love appreciating every bit of it, but I still prefer the urban jungle. Ironically, I can meditate and reflect in the hustle and bustle of the city and finds it difficult to stay still and quiet in front of a calm river or a mountain. This was the same reason why I loved noise while studying back in college and while getting ready for a good night sleep.
Last week, my friends and I had the opportunity to climb a level 1 mountain in Binangonan, Rizal. The mountain was called Mount Tagapo or commonly known as the “Susong Dalaga” (Maiden’s Breast) because of its shape. Continue reading “Mount Tagapo Hike”
Yesterday, I was on my way to church, riding a Jeepney. I had to travel alone because my parents were in Manila to visit my mom’s uncle in the hospital. I sat near the entrance of the jeepney in front of the teenage guy wearing a white shirt and a red cap. Halfway our church, an older guy carrying a bunch of balloons rode the jeepney. He asked the teenage guy to move a bit and sat in front of me. I got pissed because the balloons were all over my face and blocked the entrance of the jeepney. I was actually in a bad mood that morning because my Sunday pants were all in the laundry. I had no choice but to wear the maroon pants which I only used during our office’s 80s themed party. And I had to commute wearing them. My mood changed when I saw the teenage guy looking at the balloons. He was reading what’s written on them and amazed by the red and blue balloons blocking the entrance. He’s fascinated as if it was his first time to see the balloons.
Continue reading “Monday Recommendations – February 27, 2017”
I must go to a museum when I travel. Fellow travelers often tell me that museums are boring. Well, there are boring museums like the National Museum of Myanmar in Yangon but that one was already justified because Myanmar’s real museum is outside their actual museum. There are those extreme museums like the one in Hiroshima and Hanoi which I find depressing because of their war and post-war feels. But one of my favorite museums which balanced the boring-depressing adjective was our very own National Museum located in Ermita, Manila.
Here are the 3 reasons why I love this museum:
- It is free! My first visit was during the Museum month in 2015 when the entrance fee was free of charge. Last July 1, 2016, the Philippine Government permanently waived the entrance fee to the Museum from its original fee of Php 50 for students and Php 150 for adults. So there’s no reason for a young Filipino in and near Manila to not visit this museum.
Continue reading “Three Reasons Why You Need to visit the National Museum of the Philippines”
Disclaimer: This post was originally written last year (2016) a week after November 11, 2016.
A couple of weeks ago, my family and I spent a 4-day weekend in Baguio City, Philippines to celebrate my Dad’s 50th birthday. Baguio City is the family’s refuge and my mom’s favorite city; the 6-hour bus ride is worth it because of the good weather, fresh air, serene views and a melting pot of people from different parts of the country. The crowd was never a problem. Though my dad’s 50th is still on November 12, he requested the whole family, which means me and my mom, to hike Mount Ulap, a mountain in Benguet with 1 out of 5 difficulty level the day before his birthday. This is a perfect opportunity for me to travel, to bond with my parents and to make November 11 or 11.11 memorable to me, as it is also memorable to those who believe in Numerology.
Continue reading “What 1111 means to me”