The city in the sky

---

February 17th

We awoke with a start at 4am, confused and excited. We loaded our daypacks into the van and promptly fell back asleep as Bobby drove through the early morning traffic. Some hours later, when the sun decided to join us, we stopped for some breakfast in a fast food complex in the country. It was a true concrete jungle - as though the wildest forest had gone to bed with an urban planner. We all ate won ton soup and blinked rapidly at each other in the day’s new brilliance.


By one o’clock we were climbing the stairs to Mt. Data, the name of our many-bedded room at the top of the building. Mt. Data again had the strange combination of amenities we now know the Philippines is marked by - cable TV, comfortable beds, hot water but no toilet paper (or seat). I think Lita rented a roll with the option to buy.


The view was splendid. Our hotel was in front of a jeepney depot, and the colours and endless variations on the beasts are quite beautiful when they’re not hurtling at you on the diagonal belching clouds of oily black smoke. Behind them stretched the mountains, and the air was so wonderfully cool after the heat of Manila.


Lita took the five of us to “The House That Fried Chicken Built” (Max’s) in Baguio’s Shoe Mart, a shopping mall of unimaginable square footage. We sat on the patio and drank bottomless iced tea with our meals. Jojo remembered that one of his Japanese friends had heard of ladies’ rights to go “topless” and wondered if that had something to do with how his tea would be served.


Now whenever I see bottomless drinks offered on any menu, my brain summons this image of a young Japanese businessman looking from menu to waitress to menu, worriedly trying to decide what to do next. Hilarious!


With Bobby as our skilled driver, Jojo as official tour guide and Lita as general manager we careened through the festival-filled streets of Baguio. Our first visit was to the ‘Mansion’ where various officials and dignitaries have lived, and which was the site of the first meeting of the group that was to become ASEAN (Jojo tells the story a lot better than that, I assure you all.) The garden says MANSION, in case anyone forgot, so that’s helpful.


We continued our tour up through some clouds to Mines View Park, which is a stunning look-out point, village bazaar and general tourist haven. After days of abstaining we finally succumbed and emptied our pockets winding through the narrow alley ways to a constant chorus of “T-shirt sirrrr? Fan maaaaaam?”


We ended up with some fake ray-ban sunglasses (₱100), a Mines View Point fan (₱30), a picture of an albino pony with shocking pink hair (free because the owner was napping) and a necklace of everlasting flowers. I’m sad I had to leave that last beautiful gift with Lita; for, once subjected to the wrath of my bag it’s clear they’re only everlasting if barely touched. Lit - if you’re reading this, don’t forget them and thank you so much again (for everything).


Our last stop before naptime was to Tamawan Village, the village in the sky. This oddity consists of authentic, traditional mountain huts somehow picked up and plopped down just outside of the city. They’re all cloistered in a small but lavish jungle, and each comes with its own story.


My favourite was the fertility hut, where the mountain folk put couples who haven’t had a child after a year. The half-English bulletin explained that the couple spend two months in this hut (are they allowed to leave??!!) after which if the woman hasn’t conceived the man can go off with another woman for two months. If this other woman hasn’t conceived, then the original woman goes off with another man for two months; the couple all the while remains married.


Bizarrely precise fertility customs aside, these huts were also interesting because they’re not built with nails. The wood is cut to fit together in a “log cabin meets jenga” kind of way. The ladder gets dragged upstairs once everyone is safely inside, and there are garters around the posts so rats and other vermin can’t get it. Smart! We lurched across a rickety bamboo swing bridge, but I saw how well they made their huts so no problem.


After a brief but necessary nap, we all piled back into the car towards the Forest House, Lonely Planet’s definitive recommendation. I don’t think we’ve mentioned this, but if our New Zealand one was like a bible, this one is more like a math book. We couldn’t have managed without it, but because Lonely Planet hasn’t sent anyone to the Philippines in a while it can be hopelessly out of date. On this, however, it did not disappoint.


The Forest House is where? You guessed it. I thought, oh that’s a lazy name for a restaurant, they just looked around and called it after the first thing they saw. It wasn’t until halfway through dinner that Jojo pointed out how clever the name was because it was made of the forest. Of course! The beauty of the room struck me without my conscious brain (which apparently has taken another vacation than me) realizing that it was one of the few buildings made of timber!


The food was absolutely melt-in-the-mouth. Lita ordered mashed potatoes with her meal and her boys made fun of her for how Canadian she had become. Once home Bobby and Lita fell asleep practically before we’d opened the door to Mt. Data. George, Jojo and I hit the town into the wee hours.


Feb. 18th 2009.


The drive back started at a more reasonable hour but by extension took up most of the day. We stopped at the same concrete jungle for lunch. Once home, Lita ordered us some spaghetti because her kitchen is being renovated and she couldn’t be bothered with the mess. Bless! We played with the babies who love to dance, and the Labrador that likes to catch bottle caps.

---

Photos

Jojo and Kath
at... can you guess where?