Buhay Baboy Travels

If traveling with two pigs can make your world turn loco, try two overly-excited pigs who love swimming pools, beaches, and surfing.

photo by Bong Bajo for Lakbay Norte

When I told them we were going to La Union. The did not say a word. Chi just had that snicker while Chops was immediately nowhere to be found. A few minutes later, the two were all packed with their surfboards.

Surfing has been a mutually fun thing to do for us three, (and Barbie too if she was still with us, sigh!), and if you ask me where their favorite place is, I would say it’s in San Juan, La Union. Its not where you will find the nicest hotels (okay maybe you’d find one there), nor the best sand, not even the best waves! But there’s something to this place that makes it desirable – something different – maybe because its not too far out, its neither too near either. Maybe its the proximity, the food, the distance to Baguio, or maybe, just maybe, its where we all had our first hand of the best sport man could ever possibly make, and good memories turn into multiple ones.

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It is with sincere regret that I write this blog entry. I do not know how to explain my actions, my carelessness. I do not know how to deal with anyone who would ask me what happened, how it happened, and why it happened. All I know is that it happened, and like a bamboo planted in the middle of nowhere, I could do nothing.

You read it right. Barbi is no more. She has left this worldly dimension and crossed over to the other side, where pigs can rejoice and forever be happy, where pigs are no longer be treated as pigs.

What happened you may ask? It all started one fine morning. I saw Barbi and Chops boarding a bus full of people. I followed and everyone was staring, not at me but at the pigs. I knew from then on that something was off. I learned later that these guys played musical instruments. They were at the top of the foodchain in terms of hitting the high notes of the violins, cellos, woodwinds, and even xylophones and cymbals. We were aboard a bus filled with members of the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra. I will have episode stories about them but for now, we grieve the death of a friend.

We toured Tagum City, a first class municipality in Davao where I was invited to judge several music video contests for the Musikahan Festival held every February of each year. The pigs were both excited as they took the window seat. I’m mostly an aisle person and only take windows for photos so it was ok for the pigs to take over. I think they were more excited about this than I was.

PPO with Madam Alma Uy, first lady of Tagum City

By noon we arrived at this residence. Its probably big enough to be classified as a mansion. Tables were all set and I got seated pretty comfortably as the pigs raced to the pool. I didn’t know they liked water. And so I was confident that the two pigs were a-ok and so I simply waited for lunch to be announced.

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Today we celebrate the official first post of the newest travel blog on the planet.. Ahem..  Janjararan! Drumroll… Buhay Baboy travels! Woohoo. So Yes, the other two were just test posts.

Some people may wonder. What’s with the name? Why Buhay Baboy travels? Whats with all the fuzz and the hype about pigs and how they live their life? Is there any good explaination to this? To answer all the questions, I will be telling you the story on how this blog came to existence together with everything else you need to know.

I was having dinner one dark and cold night while multitasking by chatting with friends, doing posts in FB and checking my dusty Multiply account when I heard the house bell ring. Ok, I didn’t hear the bell ring since we don’t have one. It was more the banging sound of the gates. When I got out, I was delighted with that I saw. A basket with two pigs wrapped in swaddling clothes. The voices in my head were shouting.. Wow, Porkchop!

I quickly picked up the basket, looked left and right, and hurried inside the house making sure whoever left the basket didn’t return to reclaim his pigs.

Upon getting inside. I found a note written on a piece of tissue, and I thought to myself – “Whoever left this has serious issues”. The note said: WARNING: Do Not Eat. Not Edible.

My hopes and dreams shattered. I lost direction. What will I do? Should I return them or should I keep those babies until they’re old enough to sell the meat house where no ones knows they’re not edible? (more…)

Traveling is a very stressful activity. It begins the moment you decide to take a trip and start planning and ends when all your luggage are packed neatly in the attic, your clothes laundered, dried, and pressed, and your toiletries refilled and ready for reuse.

Go Carting in Benguet (Photos courtesy of Estan Cabigas)

For some, it may mean being back in a desk full of paper work. For others, especially those like me with nomadic tendencies and no schedule for the next day, it means a few more hours of sleep that sometimes gets out of hand causing your head to hurt because of overslumber. (more…)

I’m back blogging in this space and I’m not really sure whether or not I’m supposed to do that. Do I even have the urge to blog? Who’ld read these posts anyway? People who dream about traveling?! We’ll of course. Traveling happens to be part of anyone’s Top 3 wish list of things to do before they die – or at least 90 percent of the population thinks so.

Manor Hotel Baguio Dap-ayan Fireplace. Photo by Izah Morales

Even if writing rejects my very purpose of existence, I’ll write anyway. Oh, include typing to a certain extent. I get mental blocks sometimes when I’m in front of the computer. Perhaps they should hurry with improving those voice recognition software so that you don’t really need your hands to type anything anymore. This also means I don’t have to face this bright LCD that makes my eyes irritated when I’ve been staring for hours. Yes, I’m ranting. (more…)