March 27, 2015

When a place you've visited when you were but a child appears in your dreams every now and then, even well into your adult life, you know something metaphysical is going on. Perhaps there is a message in these reveries, a clue that could lead to solving the convuluted puzzle that is life. Or perhaps there is something amiss on the astral plane, (a glitch in the matrix, if you will,) and the only way to correct it is to return to the very same place.

The hazy memory of Lake Bulusan has always left me intrigued. For quite some time, I wasn't even sure how the place was called. It was much later, after numerous dreams about it, that I took to trusty Google to investigate. In all honesty, I was convinced for a time that I merely made this place up, but when I learned of its name, I gladly admitted that such a place was too magical to conjure with my own limited devices.

I don't remember much of how the place had looked like when I was eight, but it was very clear to me how being there had made me feel. I recall standing there, overwhelmed with awe, my young naive mind struggling to grasp what was before me. I had known then that wonder had taken over me and my standard of beauty had been forever changed. If I must pinpoint an exact moment that I decided magic is real, that would be it. And even then, it had been obvious to me that I wouldn't let my life go on without returning there.

Related Adventure: Why It's a Good Idea to Have the Springs of Irosin on the Top of Your Sorsogon Itinerary (Especially After a Fifteen-Hour Bus Ride)

When Kaye, Archie and I finished rinsing ourselves off of bodily and emotional grime, we negotiated with a tricycle driver to take us to Bulusan Volcano Natural Park. We all agreed that this was the best course to take since public transport in this part of Sorsogon is kind of an issue, i.e. jeepneys are rare and are only on the road until 3 or 5pm. I was able to sense that the dip in Irosin's springs did us all good. We were all in high spirits and felt so so much better. But the number of vehicles, or the lack thereof, plying the same route as us alarmed me to some extent. I mean, the roads were decent and they seemed safe enough, but I couldn't help asking myself why there was only a few vehicles passing us by. I figured I wouldn't get any decent answer so it was better to leave it at that and, you know, tiwala lang. I did leave it at that after a couple of minutes, and followed Kaye's example which was to go power-napping.

Later, the arch that served as the entrance to the park emerged from the seemingly endless rows of roadside greenery. We forged ahead, into another dimension.

This is a portal to another dimension.

The path to the lake has a mountain face on one side, and an intricate arboreal network on the other. The thick canopy of the towering, massive trees almost completely block out the sun. Branches jut out from both side where tendrils and vines hang like whimsical curtains. We went through a whole stretch of this and all the while I was thinking Alundra could use a landscape like this. Alundra, by the way, is a world inside my head where I call all the shots. I also thought that if the road was any indication of what was awaiting us, well, I should brace myself. Tears would inevitably make an appearance.

An intricate network of trees line one side of the road

Moments later, there it was. Lake Bulusan - in all its mystical, magical glory. The sight of it took my breath away, and, yes, a couple of tears fell. It was better than what I expected. Exceedingly so. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat faster.

I'm afraid all the photo I took couldn't give any justice to how eerily beautiful this place is

I don't know about my companions, and I don't know about you, but Lake Bulusan had such a tremendous effect on me. I stood there, gazing at the expanse of emerald water, and it was  as though a thirst I never knew I had was instantly quenched. We were in another world, I was sure. It was too damn beautiful and I couldn't believe that place I dreamt about truly does exist. I was eight years old again.

I'm forever grateful for Kaye for capturing this moment.

Maybe it was the silence that made Lake Bulusan so special. There was a silence there, a stillness that hovers over you like a warm embrace. That silence was not devoid of sounds. No, there were plenty of sounds in there. The flutter of wings, the chatter of monkeys, the murmurs of insects and the songs of the trees. These sounds were part of the silence, and that silence resounded with something in my being.

There is a silence here that resounded with my being.

Or maybe it was the enclosure of trees that engendered such a mystical air. The trees were lofty and innumerable, and they seem to hold a great and terrible secret. We are soldiers, the trees seem to whisper. They are your and the place's protection. And they know it. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's because, here, your soul becomes so at peace that it understands what the trees are saying. You become so humbled that Nature decides to speak to you again.

"We are soldiers," the trees seem to whisper.

Or maybe this reaction was just the certainty that here was my earliest definition of beauty. People always say that there is beauty in chaos but we all know, deep in our hearts, that true beauty is Order. Chaos creates beauty, sure. It is indeed when we make sense of all the cacophony, of the clutter, that beauty is found. And Lake Bulusan, for me, is that intrinsic definition of beauty. Not once did I question why there was a lake in the middle of a forest. I just knew that it was supposed to be there, that all that was before me was where it was meant to be. Here was Order. Here was Beauty.

Not once did I question why there was a lake in the middle of a forest.

Alas, that is the best way I could describe it. Not even a canoe ride across the Lake provided me with the right words to describe that place. All it did was make me want to be its guardian. I thought if I could be a diwata, I'd choose Lake Bulusan as my abode.

Related Adventure: Counting Glitters at Calinawan Cave

I did, however, take one important truth from my encounter with this otherworldly place, and it is that there are, in fact, pieces of heaven on earth. It all just depends on how we define it, and whether or not we allow ourselves to experience it.

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For more photos, check out Celineism's Facebook page.

How to Get There
From Cubao Bus Terminal (near Shopwise), there are buses bound for Sorsogon. St. Martha Bus Line, and Elavil both have daily trips to Sorsogon. Get off at Sorsogon Town Proper. From here, walk to Chowking. There will be jeepneys that will pass by Irosin. For our trip, we took a jeep bound for Matnog, but I was told that there are ones that ply directly to Irosin. Ask the driver/conductor to drop you off at the Irosin Public Market. Hire a tricycle to take you to Bulusan Volcano Natural Park.

To get back to Sorsogon, ride a tricycle and ask your driver to take you some place where you can catch a jeepney to Sorsogon. In our case, it was nearby the Irosin Town Marker.

Expenses
(Per pax, unless otherwise stated)
Bus Fare (regular, non air-conditioned, one way) - Php700
Jeepney Fare (Sorsogon to Irosin) - Php60
Entrance Fee - Php15
Boat Ride (Php600/roundtrip) - Php200
Tricycle Fare* - Php167
Jeepney Fare (Irosin to Sorsogon) - Php60

*We hired a tricycle to take us to Bulusan Natural Park from Irosin. It was a roundtrip deal that cost Php500, divided among three people.

Tips, Fact, Concerns and Reminders
Bathing is not allowed for visitors.
The lake serves as a livelihood for locals. Aside from being a tourist attraction, Lake Bulusan serves as a fishing ground.
The forest that surrounds Lake Bulusan is home to a diverse wildlife. There are monkeys, birds of prey, and an orchid called Jade Vine that is native to the Philippines.

The Jade Vine

One of the birds-of-prey that graced us with its presence

The Tourism Office offers a package which includes a hike to Mount Bulusan, you may contact them through the info below:

Other activities that can be done within the area include kayaking, boat tour, trekking, and watercycling.

March 27, 2015

The three of us became a tad testy when the bus suddenly pulled over.

"What's wrong?" grumbled Kaye, her eyes half-closed.

It was past midnight. Kaye and I had just agreed to take a pause from exchanging stories to get some shut-eye. She, Archie and I were bound for Sorsogon, my other hometown, for a well-deserved break. School's out and we professors need to recharge. That is the law, you see, but then this happened.

I grasped the rail of the seat in front of me and craned my neck. The engine had been shut off and our driver, bless his heart, hastily alighted the bus without so much as a howdy-doo.

My blood started rising.

"Wala man lang press release," I said, trying to suppress the imminent twitch under my left eye.

It was several minutes later when Archie, who had the window seat, informed us that the tires were being replaced. This was also the moment when it started to get too stuffy inside the bus (which had no air-conditioning to begin with), so we decided to get off and stretch our legs. And, fine, relieve our bladders.

So, here we were, in a poorly-lit, nipa-shack-lined roadside somewhere in Tsaong, Quezon, watching a bunch of guys with ripped arms wrestle a couple of massive bus tires. I swear I saw the boys taking apart the tire, flipping the exterior, and placing it back to the wheel - which was absurd, I know. This irked me because I thought the tires were fine and this was just some superstitious nonsense the bigwigs of St. Martha Bus Line came up with to pass off as "differentiation". My companions insisted I was the one being ridiculous. I forgave them because I knew their butts ached as much as mine.

One thing we all agreed on was it was arid and we all wanted sleep. The six-hour journey had been rough and we were getting impatient. Who knew replacing a couple of tires could take more than an hour? Superstitious nonsense, I tell you.

We all breathed a sigh of relief when the driver went on board and the engine revved to life. Not long after, I looked to my left and there were Archie and Kaye - asleep. Good for them.

I pulled my earphones out of my sling bag and plugged it into my phone. I lodged them unto my ears and began humming (or singing loudly - depends on who you ask) to Florence and the Machine. The next thing I knew, it was morning and my neck was cursing me for sleeping at a bad angle. Also, I'd apparently gotten too much of Walk the Moon in my sleep, for my earphones were dangling to the floor when I came to.

In the spirit of classic long car rides, Kaye turned to me, and in a sleepy whisper she demanded, "Malayo pa ba?"

I frowned. "Limang oras pa."

"Huh?" Archie complained, a look of utter disbelief flashing across his face.

It was 8:45 in the morning and we had just passed by the Sorsogon Arch.

I snorted. "De, joke lang. Konti na lang."

I could tell that they were starting to question the entire trip, perhaps thinking that I haven't been completely forthright with them. In my defense, I honestly had no idea that it would take us fifteen hours to reach Bacon. I thought "thirteen hours" was the worst thing that could happen.

In any case, when we finally arrived at our house in Basud, we didn't waste time. We were basically brushing our teeth one moment then riding a jeepney to the town proper the next.

It is in the town proper where we had our incredibly late breakfast. We had Bigg's Diner's famous goto. (Well, they had goto. I only ate the boiled egg that came with it and gave the rest to Archie after realizing it was actually rice. Haha!) After which, we walked and waited for a jeepney that would pass by Irosin. In this case, one bound for Matnog.

First group picture in Sorsogon!

The famed Goto

Oh, I almost forgot: on our way, I spotted a snack wholesaler where I convinced my companions to purchase two packs of Lumpia. You know, the orange tubular corn snack all three of us had a hankering for during Hell Week (yes, children, it is hell for us too.) We were determined to be fueled by porridge and cheap junkfood. We are badass that way.

After a two-hour ride, the conductor dropped us off in front of a school, and it is here where we hired a tricycle to take us to San Mateo Hot and Cold Springs. The tricycle ride is a rough fifteen minutes that passes through rice and coconut fields.

A Philvolcs Facility is situated along the way to the resort

I wouldn't mind Manila's heavy traffic if the roadsides were as scenic as these

The resort charged Php35 per head, with a discount of Php15 for children below four feet. Cottages range from Php130 to Php700 while rooms are priced Php700 to Php2200 depending on length of stay.

Professors by night, Adventurers by day

Rates and Fees

We only paid the entrance fee, opting out of renting a cottage since we wouldn't be staying for long. However, when we went inside, we occupied a vacant small cottage, agreeing that if ever we were told off, we would pay the fee. Well, we were told off but thanks to Archie's suave moves, we were allowed to use the cottage free of charge.

Now, let me get to describing the place.

Related Adventure: The Return to the Lake that Had Inspired Recurring Dreams

San Mateo Hot and Cold Springs comprise of three pools of sulfuric water (four, if you count the one under construction). The therapeutic water is volcanic in origin and comes from Mount Bulusan, an active volcano.

Right: Hot; Left: Cold

The resort had undergone a lot of improvements since the first time I went here

The place is wedged on the edge of a thriving forest, with tall thick foliage providing shade and crisp air. Birds singing, cicadas chirping, and close encounters with tuko are part of its natural and irresistible charm. Despite the relatively large number of visitors that day, the place still provided a relaxing ambience.

Lush plants and decent landscaping make up for a nice ambience

Trees that make the area "cool" despite the blaring sun

One of the massive hardwoods that line the resort

Literally on the edge of a forest (c) Kaye Samson

We changed into our swimming clothes and took some photos before we went into the "hot" spring. Let me tell you that all the ails and petulance acquired from our arduous commute immediately trickled away as I submerged myself in the brimstone-infused water. It was similar to what I have experienced in Calaguas, only this time it was more tangible, for the ail was more literal this time. I felt my bones relaxed as I submitted myself in the embrace of the calescent basin. The fifteen-hour journey was slowly starting to feel like a vague memory.

Related Adventure: Finding the Remedy in the Beauty of Calaguas

Conduits protrude at one side of the pool, and a drainage system is in another. The water in all the pools are in constant movement so it's less likely for the sulfuric water to drop the "sulf".

Small smooth stones serve as flooring for the pool. Also, I apologize for this picture of my weird-looking pale bloated feet.

I grew more certain that making the springs our first stop was the right thing to do when it became evident that Kaye and Archie were more relaxed and less disgruntled. They looked like they were enjoying themselves and not regretting the fact that they had let me coerced them into going to this adventure. They were back to their good-natured selves, leading to a quick transition to a place where we can laugh and joke about our previous ordeal. If anything, they became more enthusiastic about our trip.

I had been briefly vexed, to be honest, when they had started to complain about the bus ride. Of course, I had felt responsible and defensive, although it wasn't really my fault. But as we sat there in the hot spring, the water up to our chins, I realized we were all just really tired. And because we were patient by default, all it took to efface these feelings was a long relaxing bath.

The moral of the story: There is no such thing as over-conditioning when it comes to long car/bus rides. Exaggerate the travel time so that your buddies will be physically, mentally and emotionally prepared. But if all else fails, take them some place they can wash up.

Cheers to the next adventure!

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For more photos, check out Celineism's Facebook page.

How To Get There
From Cubao Bus Terminal (near Shopwise), there are buses bound for Sorsogon. St. Martha Bus Line, and Elavil both have daily trips to Sorsogon. Get off at Sorsogon Town Proper. From here, walk to Chowking. There will be jeepneys that will pass by Irosin. For our trip, we took a jeep bound for Matnog, but I was told that there are ones that ply directly to Irosin. Tell the driver/conductor that you're bound to San Mateo Hot Springs in San Benon. They will either drop you off at Irosin public market, or at the school where we were dropped off. Either way, you can hire a tricycle to take you to the resort.

To get back to Sorsogon, ride a tricycle and ask your driver to take you some place where you can catch a jeepney to Sorsogon. In our case, it was nearby the Irosin Town Marker.

The Irosin Town Marker

Expenses
(Per pax, unless otherwise stated)
Bus Fare (regular, non air-conditioned, one way) - Php700
Jeepney Fare (Sorsogon to Irosin) - Php60
Tricycle Fare (to resort) - Php10
Resort Entrance Fee - Php35
Tricycle Fare* - Php167
Jeepney Fare (Irosin to Sorsogon) - Php60

*We hired a tricycle to take us to Bulusan Natural Park from Irosin. It was a roundtrip deal that cost Php500, divided among three people.

Tips, Concerns and Reminders
There is a canteen/sari-sari store within the vicinity, if you didn't bring any baon

Makes you evaluate your definition of a "canteen"

Interior of the traditional Filipino house that was turned to a canteen (c) Kaye Samson

There are several grilling and cooking stations in the area
There are two shower and wash rooms. One for males, one for females. They are very decent and spacey.
It's a good idea to pair a trip to this place with a trip to Bulusan Natural Park
Make sure to coordinate with a tricycle driver with regards to going back to the main road (or going to Bulusan) as tricycles rarely stay put near the resort

March 13 to 15, 2015

We can all feel it - that importunate itch. It is as palpable as the layer of sweat over our foreheads, making our faces glint like polished things under the glare. It is as detectable as the scent of seabreeze, compelling us to let loose and jump and swim and dive. And inspite of the bizarre weather, we - the ones who long for it all year - know, with every frayed fiber of our being, that Summer is finally here.

The aforementioned itch came to afflict me as the last leaves of March began to fall away. At its outbreak, it was unforgiving. It took every bit of my willpower to control it. I needed to postpone, for I had accepted, at that time, that the matter which I had preoccupied myself with was more important. And there are but a few things I can say the same, so make of that what you will. But the point is this; the more I try to palliate, the more it bubbled and boiled beneath the surface.

When the more important matter was finally settled, at last, the only proven cure to the ail was entertained. And that unguent, that fix that would surely rid me of the ruthless itch, goes by this name: Calaguas.

Calaguas, in the province of Camarines Norte in the Bicol region, has been producing quite a stir in the community of travelers. And with good reason, I must say.

The journey to this place begins with a roughly 10-hour drive from Manila to the port town of Paracale which serves as the jump-off point to the island. From here, one will ride an outrigger for two hours - give or take.

At this point, I must tell you that the itch I have been yakking about had been, up until now, metaphorical. Perhaps because of my constant suppression and my futile attempt at ignoring it, what was once a figurative image had manifested physically. I'm trying to find a more delicate way to put this but I doubt you'd appreciate me wasting your time over such trivial matters. So, here it is: I got seasick.

Yes. During the two-hour boat ride, I regurgitated everything I had consumed the day before. In my defense, I was already feeling a tad terrible all throughout the car ride, coughing and having a feeling of general unwellness. I was informed later on of my harrowing pallor and my asking for my Mama, which makes me all the more certain that I'd lost consciousness somewhere along the way because there are chunks of that boat ride I cannot remember.

Seasickness and grossness aside, upon arrival at the island of Tinaga - one of the islands that form Calaguas, the sight of white sands, rolling hills and an almost empty beach filled me with enough energy to heave my seasick self off the boat. The place, on the surface, is breathtaking.

We then took to setting up our austere accommodations: tents.

Moments later, inside Dennis' and my designated tent, despite the heat from the near-noon sun, I fell asleep.

It was a little before noon when I woke up, and I felt a whole lot better. Sweaty, yes, but the malaise was gone.

I went outside the tent and everything was in full sharpness. The unforgiving sun had seemed to put the whole island in a "filter" that resulted into everything looking more intense. The sky was my favorite shade of blue, but sharper. Not a wisp of cloud in sight. The sands were glittering in the noon light. And the water looked immaculate.

I stood there for a couple of minutes before I walked towards a cottage where my other companions were. They then informed me and Dennis that lunch was being prepared. And minutes later, lunch was indeed served.

We spent a good amount of our Day 1 upping our chances of getting melanoma, having several photo ops under the glaring sun. The rays were harmful, yes, but they sure made for a perfect lighting. But a quick look at my phone confirmed that we were off the grid. No cellular reception, so all of us were forced into a social media hiatus. I needed it, though, if I were to be truly honest. Facebook can wait for two days.

Waiting for the sun to mellow allowed me to get to know my companions. Conversations ensued. Jokes were made. And our laughters seemed to meld with the sound of the waves.

When the sun finally tempered down, some of us took off for a game of beach volleyball. Some, I included, went to lose ourselves in the waters of Calaguas.

The water of Halabang Baybay Beach (that's Bicolano which translates to "mahabang buhangin" in Tagalog, and literally "long sands" in English), has the clearest, bluest water I have ever had the pleasure of swimming in. The water is a spectrum of the color blue. Aquamarine, sapphire, turquoise, cerulean, teal, and other shades that I don't even know the name of. It was surreal. Almost unbelievable.

Being surrounded by an incredible clarity and impossible blue made me realize that this was it. This was the cure to both the metaphorical and literal itch. I could almost feel the pent up desire leaving my body. The water gladly taking it in, which made its pulchritude more marvelous. Of course, I knew it was temporary. But at that moment, I allowed myself to be washed over with contentment. I relished it. And it was wonderful.

I capped off my first day in the island by stargazing. It reminded me of Anawangin - the place that had inspired a song. Many times I spotted shooting stars as I watched the earth turn.

The next day, we went for a minor trek on one side of the island. One part of the hill overlooked Halabang Baybay Beach. Further up, we were greeted by a spectacular vista. The cogon grass, the ocean and the sky gave an almost Batanes-like vibe.

We then made our way to the other side of the hill where a different shoreline welcomed us. This one was even more beautiful since there were no tents, no boats, and almost no people. A small islet provided a great contrast to the blue-dominated background.

Later on, after we had our breakfast-cum-lunch, we packed our things and dismantled our tents. We went aboard the motorized boat and made way to the open sea. We then stopped by a snorkeling site where the water was so clear, it was like liquid turquoise. Several feet below the water was a thriving marine ecosystem. The crystal clear surface like a glass lid over an abundance of coral reefs and schools of fishes.

This was a perfect finale to an equally perfect First of Summer.

As the outline of Tinaga island and the rest of Calaguas receded behind us, the engine of the outrigger roaring, I knew that the charm of this little piece of paradise shall get me through, well, at least for another week.

Cheers to the next adventure!

This was an organized event by Oh My Guide! For inquiries on how to get your own Calaguas adventure, check out below:

Ms. Charisma Ponce

+63 906 528 9111