flip'n travels

The Khmer empire constructed buildings, irrigation system, city structures that were far advanced during it’s time, superior to its neighboring counterparts. The fact that they were able to weave such magnificent framework of technology that world has never seen, not just impeccably made but intricately adorned. Ironic that now, at the height of technological advancement, they can’t even put up a passable road leading in and out of the country.

The explanation lies behind political conspiracies. And I leave you with that.

Bottom line, if you going out of Cambodia the cheapest way is via land travel, but be ready for a long bumpy bus ride. 12 hour-long bumpy bus ride. Or you can fly in and out and burn your wallet.

The most affordable and easiest way is through a bus, there are lots of liners that run to and from Bangkok and Phnom Penh. If you’re lucky, you may just have to brave four hours of bus ride from Siem Reap to Poipet-Aranyaprathet border then another six from the border to Bangkok.

We scouted for the best bus line, and we originally booked a de luxe one, they even mentioned “first class” complete with hot towel and a bottle of water. Meang (our host) warned us, apparently he never heard of such thing as “first class”  bus going to the border. But thinking of a long bumpy trip, we thought a more comfortable seat will kind of compensate with the road condition. So I still booked it, a punch in the dark.

In time for the departure, Meang brought us to the pick-up point near the old market. But the first class bus is nowhere to be seen… the only bus in the area is a not-so-old shabby looking air-conditioned bus, more of like those that you’ll find running along EDSA. You bet, there goes our bus!

We hopped-on and realized that even the promised hot towel and bottle of water wouldn’t happen. Oh well, another “I TOLD ‘YA SO” moment in the book of Ron and Monette’s adventures.

Other than Peso bills, We only have US1 and few thousand riels on or pocket and money changer is nowhere to be found. That means we have to brave the entire day with that cash at hand, a bottle of half consumed water and a bag of chips.

First things first, there’s no airport in Vigan. The nearest airport is in Laoag, about 2 hours bus ride away. Cebu Pacific Air flies twice daily (to and from).  Vigan is a very small town, you can actually cover a complete itinerary in one day, so it’s a good idea to also check out other towns like Sta. Maria, Narvacan and probably some nearby beaches in La Union province.

For someone like me and Monette, this town is perfect to unleash the creative animals within us. She can just sit along the curb side, set on trans mode and start writing. As for me, I can walk around and be the clicker happy that I am.

It’s a town where everything moves slowly, so hurrying up to catch the pre-plotted itinerary isn’t exactly the fun way to enjoy the place.

WHERE TO STAY

Hotels and hostels within the blocks around the town center are mostly old houses. They decorate the house with all sorts of antique items ranging from flat iron converted to an ash tray to a make shift corner table out of an old sewing machine, and the list goes on. The interiors are basically colonial, they just put rooms and beds and a signage outside and voila! An antique thrift shop cum hostel. To some lone travelers who got wild imagination, you may want to look for a companion. Rooms resemble those that we see on classic horror films where you can expect to see Lilia Cuntapay materialize in the dark corner of your cold brick walled suite. Room rates are ranging form 700-1500 inclusive of Filipino breakfast. Grandpa’s Inn is where we stayed.

WHERE TO EAT

There are three ways to have a blast with your Vigan food trip.

Fine Dine at Cafe Leona where the perfect time to sit down and order would be at night where they have al fresco dining right at the end of Crisologo street. I never got the chance of eating out here during my recent trip, but a decade ago, the chokolate-E was 0h-so-wicked. I believe they also serve the good old Vigan faves like the bagnet (deep fried pork meat) and longanisa (Filipino garlic sausage).

Street Food trip is also popular among tourists and locals alike. Grab your bag of chichacorn (fried corn kernels) of a small box of cheesy royal bibingka (rice cake). This is a perfect snack while walking around the old town or riding a Kalesa.

Eat Vigan empanada at the park. Shredded lettuce, longanisa and whole egg wrapped with a hand rolled soft dough, then deep fried to perfection.

WHAT TO DO

Get a private kalesa, it’s the horse drawn carriage and a very eco-friendly means of transportation which started during the colonial era. I always wanted to just chill and ride one. Manila still got these iconic road runners, but it’s definitely not a good idea. The very essence of riding a kalesa is to enjoy the picturesque town and fresh air is an important element.

Kalesa ride costs around PhP 150/hour. There is a city ordinance that sets the fare so even if you want to haggle, you can’t. One thing is for sure, the kutcheros (drivers) are friendly and they are not as adamant as those from tourist traps elsewhere. They will tour you around the city. They will take you to several spots like Bantay church and bell  tower, Baluarte and Burnayan.

Bantay Bell Tower

Old bell of Bantay Belfry

pottery of burnayan

WHAT TO BUY

Or what NOT? In the past, Vigan is the spot for antique collectors. They hold the biggest collection of colonial artifacts. Like their houses, the household knickknacks were perfectly preserved. But in recent decades, residents decided to just sell them to antique shops, foreign tourists and collectors. I’m not sure if I am fully against this trade, but it would be cool to leave these items in Vigan where they belong. I heard the number of antique items in this town is dwindling down.

Ilocos Sur skyline, view from the Bantay bell tower

From Manila, land transportation is one of the most economical, PhP 500-600 (one way). Travel time may vary depending on the traffic, it may take around 8 hours on a night trip and 10 hours on a day trip. Several bus companies are operating daily from Manila to Vigan:

Partas Transportation Co. (Cubao QC/Sampaloc Manila) – They can cut the travel time from 10 hours to 7. Drivers got a death wish.

Fariñas Transit Company (Lacson Sampaloc Manila) – Owned by a political family in Ilocos Norte, so people throwing stones is pretty normal, no worries, there’s no recorded casualties or injuries so far. The buses are pretty clean and brand new.

Florida Bus Line (Espana Manila) – Newest addition to the competing bus lines to the north. Known as the “Pink Bus”, obviously not owned by Bayani Fernando but the buses are pretty decent pretty girly decent.

Maria de Leon Bus (Dapitan Manila) – probably one of the oldest in the bunch. They got the friendliest staff but circulating rumors says: the drivers are as senile as the buses, they are really pros, however, the 10-hour trip may become 15 hours. The drivers tend to stop every 30 minutes to take a leak.

In a nutshell, Vigan is the place to visit if your life is moving faster than it should be, and you are dying to have a break. The place will help you recalibrate your pace with the universe, as you take your slow steps around this town of classic beauty and elegance, you will also get the chance to go back in time and enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

Ron

Vigan was one of the first few towns I visited during the genesis of my traveling advocacy. I can’t deny the fact that it was also one of the places that sparked my interest to see the world.

I was 20 years old when I first walked the cobbled stone streets of Crisologo. Back then, I felt like I was walking the streets of Italy. It even inspired me to sit along the pavement and start writing random poems and sketch the plethora of antique items on sale along the UNESCO heritage site.

We left manila at 3 PM, we reached Vigan around 1 AM, not a pretty good idea. Majority of establishments shuts off at around 9 PM. We could have just left at midnight and slept in the bus. So it was wee hours in the morning and we didn’t want to waste our time snoozing, waiting for the morning light. We bought a bottle of booze and drank in our hotel until the sun rose.

Sleepless and obviously attenuated by the alcohol in my head, I decided to walk aimlessly on the streets of Vigan with my hand ready to press the shutter.

my first shot of the street after 9 years.

closed weathered shop doors

I opted walking on my own while waiting for the break of dawn. It was cold and quiet. Perfect time to think, and try to look back to the years when I was young innocent, naive and unsure of what lies ahead of me. It’s been almost a decade. I couldn’t help but chuckle and smile a bit.

The sun kissed my cheeks and the street came to life.

stores opened their wooden doors, and arranged all sorts of knickknacks they are selling.

Kalesa, or horse drawn carriages started appearing on each corners of the old street

day has began

My life has been moving really fast, the last couple of years came and went in a break-neck speed. Time is taking a toll on my body. If only I can freeze time, like what happened to this small town. If only…

Ron

Khmer is a culture that I rarely encounter in books and in school. Despite the fact that we live right across the South China Sea, they are literally the next door neighbor. With the Cambodian robust history of fierce Angkor warriors, I would think that the modern Khmer’s would be someone who is cold-hearted, aloof and supercilious… man, I was wrong. FLAT WRONG.

Meang introduced us to Piron, our tuk tuk driver for three days. When they fetched us from the Siem Reap International Airport, he was quiet and a bit shy, but his warm smile was good enough for us to feel so much welcomed.

The moment we reached Prohm Roth Guesthouse, we unloaded the bags. I immediately shook his hand, then I started blabbering non-stop about the flight from Kuala Lumpur. He flashed a big smile, occasionally nodded, sporadically giggled while I animatedly shared my stories. The moment I stopped talking, he instantly turned his head to Meang. Still smiling, he asked something in his native tongue. Something that I interpreted as–“What is he talking about?”

Apparently, Piron doesn’t speak English.

We figured out that the easiest way to communicate with him is through signs and gestures. That was how it went for three days.

He knows where to go for good finds like shopping places, cheaper bottled water and he can guide you to a mini- Cambodian street food trip. While roaming the complex, we were stopping every now and then for him to show us and have us try all sorts of deli’s ranging from spicy clams to dried insects. He really knows how to please adventurers like me and Monette.

One time while driving across Bayon, I told monette “Gutom na ko!” (It means “I’m hungry” in Filipino). Piron immediately pulled over. We were wondering what he was about to do, then he bought something like sweet sticky rice in a bamboo shaft from a local vendor.

“You… hungry…?” he gestured something that translates “Eat this, this is for you…from me!”

We were left speechless and profoundly touched by his thoughtfulness.

I tried telling Piron that he looks like one Filipino newscaster. I tried to put it in the simplest possible sentence. After continuously talking about Howie Severino, I paused for a gap. He responded with his unwavering big smile–“YES”

I curled up my forehead to show confusion. Trying to connect what he just said.

He immediately reverted his response… “NO”

No doubt, I love Piron.

I am really excited to blog about Angkor Wat. But I don’t know where to start. I’m still under anesthesia while I’m writing this, a perfect time to reminisce the moment I first set foot in the land of the Angkor. What I’m feeling right now (or not feeling) is the same numbness I felt when I’m flying across the land lock plains of Cambodia. I was so excited I can’t feel the tips of my fingers and toes. Buergers Disease? Diabetes? or simply bliss?

I live in an archipelago, ocean view is always (the most) an hour drive away from any point in the country. That’s why it felt unreal flying over a vast of land where you cant see a sign of body of water in the horizon. I can’t remember hearing the plane engine or the flight attendant asking us to fasten our seat belt. It was a moment of trans, I honestly remember hearing a solitary string instrument playing that moment. This is another time in my life that I will remember every single second of its realization.

Touching the walls and pillars of Angkor Wat is more than a dream come true. 3 miles above sea level, I started seeing all shades of green and brown fields. Like a huge mosaic of rice paddies and lush forest. Monette is on a different isle, so while the aircraft is descending I was talking to myself “Where are the Temples?… Where are the Temples?”

You cannot see the temples from the plane, however, there’s one Angkorian structure you cannot possibly miss from overhead, The West Baray. from the ground it looks like any other huge lake, but from above it’s a ginormous rectangular swimming pool the size of Sampaloc Manila.

Fact: the magnitude of the Angkor complex was discovered using satellite images, scholars thought Angkor is just as big as Manhattan, apparently it’s just the main temple compound. but the lost civilization’s temples and ancient archeological site is spanning a land the size of Los Angeles, and it’s still growing.

The moment the aircraft hit the runway, you can see everyone’s stretching their necks waiting for the announcement that we have arrived. you can feel the anxiety inside the plane. The flight attendant even called the attention of an Korean passenger, “SIR PLEASE REMAIN SEATED!” he’s too anxious to get his bags that he stood up even before the aircraft came to a full stop. And I can’t blame him.

As I walked down the tarmac, It felt like I’m floating, gliding down as the tip of my toe touches the soil.

“Finally, I am really here!”

I’m sorry I’m not really a sentimental blogger, but this amazing trip deserves proper prologue and rolling of drums.

here’s a teaser

When we arrived teleported from Singapore to KL. We were several hours ahead of schedule. I mean waaaaaay ahead of schedule. We were welcomed with a silent treatment, because it was like 3:30 in the morning. We booked a room at the Equator hostel a week before the trip. It’s the same hostel where we stayed exactly 2 years ago. I like its homey ambiance, unassuming aura, clean facilities and friendly hosts. However, when we arrived, it seemed like everyone’s in deep slumber, we waited outside the gate for an hour but no one’s responding to our distress signal. We can’t blame them, they’re expecting us to arrive at 6-ish. And we never thought of booking a plan B Hostel.

think-think-think

Monette suggested that  we can stay in the police station until dawn breaks. We both paused for a jiffy–”NOT!”

think-think-think

“can we just go to the nearest Starbucks? oh, everything is still closed”

think-think-think

I walked couple of blocks along Lorong, and EUREKA! Just like a cheesy movie plot, providence played a cameo: the good guy ran-out of bullets in the middle of an action scene in an abandoned warehouse, and then  there’s a new gun conveniently sitting prettily right beside him… There’s another Hostel that wasn’t there a year ago. And so we rudely woke the receptionist, Thana, by furiously knocking on the window (CLICK HERE to read a separate entry about Thana). And so we walked-in and good thing, they got available dorm beds for us.

Classic Inn hostel is a softer version of its contemporaries in the post war row houses cum hostels along Lorong 1/77A. The dorms are clean and comfortable. We took two beds in the mixed dormitory. When Monette opened the sliding door slowly, her eyes quickly adjusted in the dark, then she gasped and closed it instantaneously.

“HOH MY GAWD, RONNIE”.
“why? what’s wrong?”
“there’s a guy in the room!”
“uh, duh! its a mixed dorm!”
“he’s sleeping…
“uh, duh…”
“….NAKED!”
“oooh–WHAT?!”
“Happy FI-YES-TA!”

Here’s another unsuspecting victim (by the way, he knows that we took his photo)

They got an al fresco porch in front where you can eat breakfast, read papers or randomly talk to other backpackers. They also got a small garden where they hold an acquaintance barbecue parties for the guests. Breakfast is free, they serve roti canai with sambal dip, butter toast, fresh fruit and coffee or tea. we shared the table with a retired couple from London. We talked about travel, work, economy, politics and they taught us pointers about Life… We walked off the breakfast table, and we never saw them again. We never got the chance of asking their names and introduce ours, but we had a very meaningful conversation with them.

CLASSIC INN
52, Lorong 1/77A, Changkat Thambi Dollah,
Off Jln Pudu 56100, K.L. Wilayah Persekutuan
Dorm MYR30/person
http://www.classicinn.com.my/

EQUATOR HOSTEL
70, Lorong 1/77A, Changkat Thambi Dollah,
Off Jln Pudu 56100, K.L. Wilayah Persekutuan
Dorm MYR25/person
http://www.equatorhostel.com/

Going out of KL via the international airport, it is not as convenient like in Manila. It is outside of the city, one hour and a half  travel by bus (Like manila to Clark). We didn’t expect this. Our flight to Siem Reap is at 7 AM and we have to be in the airport at least two hours before the scheduled flight, but buses will not operate until 5 AM. Cabs are ridiculously expensive. It may range from MYR100 -MYR200 while buses are only MYR9. But now you can take the newly opened KLIA EKSPRES. I haven’ tried it but it will be a shorter trip and will cost around MYR35 (one way).

Click here to KLIA EKSPRES website

So we decided to catch the last trip to the airport and stay there overnight. With only 1 hour before the last bus, we still managed to go to the mall in front of our hostel to eat a good nasi lemak, because we’re unsure of the food in the airport, then we took off and run for dear life. We’re like contestants of amazing race, running with our huge bags, catching our breath, squeezing ourselves in the LRT cabins. Some drama because I lost my train pass. But we were able to get there in time.

We reached the airport at around 9:30 PM. then we started thinking of ways how to kill our time and how to try finding a comfortable corner to sleep… for it’s going to be a long 10 hours of waiting.

TIP: Air Asia is the most affordable airline of choice to Siem Reap. But unlike Cebu Pacific that has free baggage allowance of 15 kg, you have to pay something around MYR15, so make sure you reserve few extra Ringgits in you pocket.

I generally thought there was nothing other than the Petronas Towers in Malaysia that could quite catch my attention. It was sparkly and all, but when Ron told me there was this huge Hindu statue in the country, I just had to see it. It also helped that it was shiny and golden, and I am a girl and I like them shiny things…

As soon as we finished our hearty breakfast; Ron, Thana and I went on our way to go to the Batu Caves. We walked a long deal passing by the penitentiary building to Kota Raya central market. From there, we took Bus 11 in front of Bangkok Bank and paid RM2.50 to get to the sight.

We arrived Batu Caves and found the grounds full of pigeons. It was terribly hot but didn’t stop us from taking a photo-op.

We approached the cave in awe as the world’s largest statue of Lord Murugan welcomed us. Standing at 42.7 meters, it was a sight both terrible (as when you hypothetically look at a god and you feel fear and love and oneness with the universe) and awesome.

We had to climb 272 concrete steps to get to the main “hall” leading to other temple complexes inside. There were macaque monkeys everywhere, especially on the steps as they look at people clawing their way up the cave.

The gopuras were as intricate as the ones in Singapore. I was bothered that the temples looked alike everywhere we went and apparently, the artist who founded Sri Mahamariamman Temple in Kuala Lumpur was also the same person who installed the temple caves. The architecture is Dravidian, which is described as pyramid shaped temples which are dependent on intricate carved stone in order to create a step design consisting of numerous statues of deities, warriors, kings, and dancers.¹

The inside was huge with several small shrines dedicated to other gods like Hanuman, the monkey king who helped Rama rescue his wife Sita from Ravana.

Seeing so many places of worship and learning about different religion made me realize our deep need to connect to permanence which is this earth. It is the fear of something terrible like death that binds us to immortalize our souls. I love Indian literature. There was a time I can recite the Ramayana and Mahabharata by heart, but that was a long time ago. This love has to be revived…

wala pa tayong titirahan sa bora, sa tuesday na tayo aalis

so ano walk-in na ulit ito?

what time ka ba nasa airport?

mga 1 pm

para ma adjust ko yung sched ko

panget daw sa *tooot*

ay, ayaw mo talaga sa *tooot*?

mas madami daw maganda na beach front. hanap tayo pag dating. di ko gusto mga reviews sa *tooot*. off peak naman so why not beach front na fabulous, daba?

haha! sabagay… sige, adventure na rin lang ang hanap natin e, sagad sagarin na natin… sana lang umaraw

di pala ako tuloy sa laiya bukas

ngek!

so pwede na ko dumerecho sa balur bukas ng morning

keri

may bagyo naman kasi

sabi ko nga!

so here’s the plan. gabi na tayo makakarating sa bora so pwede tayo pa drop off muna sa isang area. then mag hati hati tayo, si raph sa station 1 ako sa 2 ikaw sa 3… we’ll take the backpacker risk, hanap tayo ng magandang place.

keri…

fun isn’t it?… sana lang wag umulan

i know! na eexcite na nga ako with the mere thought….eto ang bonggang bonggang idea… pag wala na tayong makita, matulog tayo ng first night sa buhangin… FUN ISN’T IT?

???

Going to KL from Singapore is like a bus trip from Manila to Baguio—drivers got a death wish. Ideally it’s an 8 hour butt-torturing ordeal. Back in 2007 when I first took the route, it was indeed eight hours, but that’s because it was a day trip. That seemed like the longest bus ride because of the non-stop yakking of local passengers that I suspected to be a delegation for some sort of an international tiger balm sniffing senior citizens marathon. I mean seriously, it was a painful eight long hours.

day time trip to KL, march 2007

So the next time I got the chance to take the Malaysian Death Bus, I decided to do it at night. We booked with a better bus company which is a partner of Air Asia, StarMart Express and the chair vibrates! Really it vibrates; the coach seats got a massage mechanism to stimulate blood circulation… and probably something else.

We could have booked a flight to KL with the same price. Tiger Airways got a promo that time at around PhP1000 one way from Changi to KL. But I decided to take the night bus to waive the additional night in the hotel.

night time trip, march 2009

Our bus left the Golden Mile Complex at around 12 midnight, I’m all geared to sleep and the reclining seats were acceptably comfortable. So I tucked myself under the blanket and slept the night away.  The starry night, vanishing silhouettes of the  Malaysian landscape outside the window and  monotonous buzzing of engine set the mood conducive to sleeping, but the occasional humping on road kills, which I thought ranged from wild chicken to what felt like teenage kids, jolted me up every once in a while and made me look at my watch.

3:30 AM, I still have at least 4 hour to sleep.

After few moments of REM I heard the conductor yelling “KL Central!” Monette dreamily asked me “is this where we are supposed to alight?”

“HOLY NASI LEMAK!”

Caught off guard and still in our imaginary pajamas, we crammed grabbing our bags and shoes, which are still all over the place. “I thought it’s going to be an 8 hour trip? It’s only 4:15 AM damn it! Is it me or did we just teleported across the border?”

We stepped out of the bus, KL was still in deep slumber. We can’t help but mumble “Oh crap!”

I have never been alone on a travel before prior to my Sagada trip. I have the faintest sense of direction and I always feel particularly stupid after flying, it’s as if my head is still caught up with the altitude change. It took me an hour to find our hostel from the MRT station when I could’ve been there 15-20 minutes after stepping out of the train. I was so scared to get lost that after settling in in our room, I took out my book and a bagful of pretzels, found a comfortable chair and read my way into a comatose. Maria, the housekeeper of the hotel, urged me to go on with my plans for the day. Being gullible, I decided to wake up from my trance and head to Little India.

Directions from Chinatown: Board the train from Chinatown MRT station and get off at Little India station. From there, walk along Race Course Road, turn right to Buffalo Road then turn left to get to Serangoon Road and let your feet and nose guide you around the place.

I walked along the famous Serangoon Road which is the main drag of the place. The reason I wanted to see  the area was actually Sri Veeramakaliamman Templewhich is reputed to be the busiest temple in Little India. Dedicated to Kali, the goddess of power and ferocious incarnation of Lord Siva’s wife, the temple is at its busiest on Tuesdays and Fridays.  I’ve always been a fan of religious art without regard to denominations. I was so proud of myself standing in front of the temple without getting lost. So that’s what happens when you really follow the map till the last turn… I was amazed at how the gopuram (statuary above the entrance) is so detailed. It made me recall my lessons on Indian literature back in college. I was even able to name a few figures in the temple.

Next, I walked a long stretch of a peaceful road, passing by the Angullia Mosque which is an Indian Muslim temple . Finally, I was standing yet again in front of another temple. Was it just me or did Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple just got teleported to the other side of the town? As it turns out it didn’t, but basically, the make-up of the Hindu temples in Singapore follow a pattern. I took off my shoes and meandered inside together with a few tourists and a couple of faithfuls worshiping. One thing I needed to learn was to take a picture of myself without feeling humiliated. Up until now, I haven’t learned the craft.

After my religious journey, I walked aimlessly around the town devouring the colors of buildings, fabrics and jewelry sold on the stores and the smell of curry and other spices. I set out to find the a good restaurant to eat in and then I suddenly remembered… I do not eat spicy food. What a bummer…

I went back to the hostel exhausted from all the walking but with a heart full of courage. I was tempted to go around some more, but I wanted to savor my achievement in the most natural way. I took out my book and a bagful of pretzels, found a comfortable chair and read my way into a comatose.