Accidental tour
LATE AFTERNOON Sunday the daughter texted she was just through a fantastic reef survey dive around Palaui Island off Cagayan with her gang of UP-Diliman profs.
7:00 P.M. She texted her group was just finishing dinner and soon would be off on a 12-hour drive back to Manila.
Past midnight, it was her boyfriend that texted the daughter was confined at the De Vera Medical Center in Santiago, Isabela for tummy ache and fever which doctors feared was symptomatic of appendicitis.
Little sleep was had by the wife – and me – after that. Thinking of dear daughter in some strange place and resolved to fly to her side soon as we could.
Early morning Monday, the boyfriend texted daughter was doing fine but would be undergoing some tests.
With a pack of clothes – for a week, and toiletries, the wife and I hit the road 10:30 A.M. in a full-tanked Toyota Avanza.
From the City of San Fernando through Mexico, Sta. Ana, Arayat, Cabiao, San Isidro, the ride was ho-hum ordinary, the ubiquitous tricycles hogging the lanes, jeepneys loading and off-loading passengers right in the middle of the streets oblivious of the traffic inconvenience they create. Gapan City was a horrendous traffic mess even on a day when classes were suspended owing to Typhoon Frank.
Past 12:00 noon we stopped at Max’s in Cabanatuan City for a quick lunch, which turned out to be even quicker than passing through the Maharlika Highway stretch of the city choked by unruly tricycles and raging jeepneys.
Midway into Talavera, we stopped for personal comfort at a gas station. The Avanza’s fuel gauge still registered 3/4 full but I had it on full tank again. I never take chances with my gas on long treks.
At the approach to the Science City of Munoz, the trip took on a totally different dimension. A canopy of green, thicker though lower than that we arduously try to protect from the DPWH’s chainsaw in Balite, ushers the traveler in through the area of the Philippine Rice Research Institute, the Central Luzon State University and the Philippine Carabao Center.
While San Jose City brought back some moderate traffic, it did not have the road anarchy of the other urban centers. Out of the city, the Caraballo and Cordillera mountains merged and loomed taking in the traveler into their hold.
There started the picturesque San Jose-Sta. Fe Road, with its winding esses, gentle ascents and gentler descents, its forest parks and green peaks.
In 1991, I first traveled this route – on a Dangwa Transit bus – and resolved never to take it again. What passed off then as cemented portions, short and narrow as they were, were even cracked and pockmarked. It was mostly rutted earth and little gravel. Whatever view there was was no relief for the bumps and grinds and the body aches after.
It was all a smooth ride this time, the road mainly concrete, partly asphalted. Barriers too were erected: on the mountainsides to check landslides, at the edge of the road for the safety of the travelers. And yes, there were DPWH maintenance crew and grasscutters spread throughout the area.
At each approach to a peak, the pearly white Avanza assumed some celestial aura, literally riding the clouds. One could not help but feel the nearness of God. Which we took advantage of by praying for the health of our daughter.
And then we peaked at Balite Pass and came down to Sta. Fe. Disappointed again at the cracked road, obviously caused by overloaded cargo trucks and the water that drained through it. Good though there were some drainage construction on-going. The Total gas station there was well worth the rest-stop we had. Immaculately clean rest rooms with a view of the mountain ranges and a creek. Its adjacent Mrs. Gaddi’s restaurant serving possibly the best steaks in Nueva Vizcaya.
We breezed through the towns of Aritao, Bambang and Solano. Now, hear this: those towns had the most disciplined jeepney and tricycle drivers in the country perhaps. They took to the road shoulders to pick up or unload passengers. They gave way to faster vehicles. Ain’t that swell?
The town of Bagabag, Cordon and Diadi had their share of zigzags and forest areas. The road constructions that restricted traffic to one-way in some sections and the uneven asphalting of other portions did not make the route as enjoyable as San Jose-Sta. Fe.
By 5:30 P.M. we were in Santiago, Isabela. Relieved that clinical tests on our daughter were all okay. And feeling refreshed(!) in our seven-hour journey.
Did we stay? At 8:00 P.M., we checked the daughter out of the hospital and went back, the boyfriend alternated with me at the wheel. Back at the Total gas station, the fuel gauge registered less than half so I had a full tank anew.
The journey in the dark took some excitement with one trying to move past cargo trucks and passenger buses on the zigzags. While on the flatlands the thinness of late-night traffic in the urban centers allowed us to cruise at 70-80 kph. Gapan to San Fernando took all of 30 minutes, would you believe? Arrival home was 1:30 Tuesday morning. Tired but still exhilarated from our nearly 600-kilometer accidental tour. And yes, the Avanza fuel gauge read 3/4 full.
7:00 P.M. She texted her group was just finishing dinner and soon would be off on a 12-hour drive back to Manila.
Past midnight, it was her boyfriend that texted the daughter was confined at the De Vera Medical Center in Santiago, Isabela for tummy ache and fever which doctors feared was symptomatic of appendicitis.
Little sleep was had by the wife – and me – after that. Thinking of dear daughter in some strange place and resolved to fly to her side soon as we could.
Early morning Monday, the boyfriend texted daughter was doing fine but would be undergoing some tests.
With a pack of clothes – for a week, and toiletries, the wife and I hit the road 10:30 A.M. in a full-tanked Toyota Avanza.
From the City of San Fernando through Mexico, Sta. Ana, Arayat, Cabiao, San Isidro, the ride was ho-hum ordinary, the ubiquitous tricycles hogging the lanes, jeepneys loading and off-loading passengers right in the middle of the streets oblivious of the traffic inconvenience they create. Gapan City was a horrendous traffic mess even on a day when classes were suspended owing to Typhoon Frank.
Past 12:00 noon we stopped at Max’s in Cabanatuan City for a quick lunch, which turned out to be even quicker than passing through the Maharlika Highway stretch of the city choked by unruly tricycles and raging jeepneys.
Midway into Talavera, we stopped for personal comfort at a gas station. The Avanza’s fuel gauge still registered 3/4 full but I had it on full tank again. I never take chances with my gas on long treks.
At the approach to the Science City of Munoz, the trip took on a totally different dimension. A canopy of green, thicker though lower than that we arduously try to protect from the DPWH’s chainsaw in Balite, ushers the traveler in through the area of the Philippine Rice Research Institute, the Central Luzon State University and the Philippine Carabao Center.
While San Jose City brought back some moderate traffic, it did not have the road anarchy of the other urban centers. Out of the city, the Caraballo and Cordillera mountains merged and loomed taking in the traveler into their hold.
There started the picturesque San Jose-Sta. Fe Road, with its winding esses, gentle ascents and gentler descents, its forest parks and green peaks.
In 1991, I first traveled this route – on a Dangwa Transit bus – and resolved never to take it again. What passed off then as cemented portions, short and narrow as they were, were even cracked and pockmarked. It was mostly rutted earth and little gravel. Whatever view there was was no relief for the bumps and grinds and the body aches after.
It was all a smooth ride this time, the road mainly concrete, partly asphalted. Barriers too were erected: on the mountainsides to check landslides, at the edge of the road for the safety of the travelers. And yes, there were DPWH maintenance crew and grasscutters spread throughout the area.
At each approach to a peak, the pearly white Avanza assumed some celestial aura, literally riding the clouds. One could not help but feel the nearness of God. Which we took advantage of by praying for the health of our daughter.
And then we peaked at Balite Pass and came down to Sta. Fe. Disappointed again at the cracked road, obviously caused by overloaded cargo trucks and the water that drained through it. Good though there were some drainage construction on-going. The Total gas station there was well worth the rest-stop we had. Immaculately clean rest rooms with a view of the mountain ranges and a creek. Its adjacent Mrs. Gaddi’s restaurant serving possibly the best steaks in Nueva Vizcaya.
We breezed through the towns of Aritao, Bambang and Solano. Now, hear this: those towns had the most disciplined jeepney and tricycle drivers in the country perhaps. They took to the road shoulders to pick up or unload passengers. They gave way to faster vehicles. Ain’t that swell?
The town of Bagabag, Cordon and Diadi had their share of zigzags and forest areas. The road constructions that restricted traffic to one-way in some sections and the uneven asphalting of other portions did not make the route as enjoyable as San Jose-Sta. Fe.
By 5:30 P.M. we were in Santiago, Isabela. Relieved that clinical tests on our daughter were all okay. And feeling refreshed(!) in our seven-hour journey.
Did we stay? At 8:00 P.M., we checked the daughter out of the hospital and went back, the boyfriend alternated with me at the wheel. Back at the Total gas station, the fuel gauge registered less than half so I had a full tank anew.
The journey in the dark took some excitement with one trying to move past cargo trucks and passenger buses on the zigzags. While on the flatlands the thinness of late-night traffic in the urban centers allowed us to cruise at 70-80 kph. Gapan to San Fernando took all of 30 minutes, would you believe? Arrival home was 1:30 Tuesday morning. Tired but still exhilarated from our nearly 600-kilometer accidental tour. And yes, the Avanza fuel gauge read 3/4 full.
posted by A.Caesar Z. Lacson at 7:08 PM
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