By jove, I might as well have been hit by thunder and it would have the same effect.
I totally did not expect I would enjoy the Sagada trip. That's just so like me to refuse acknowledging that something could actually be nice instead of bothersome. I tend to discourage myself from expecting too much. Huh. That's like my style for everything. Including falling in love.
This I promise is true. Sagada is a higher experience. You could not go there and not be changed somehow. The travel to the place alone is physically battering, and you would need a stout heart to hold on to the hope of making it through alive (especially when we had to brave the rough, winding road while it was raining). Once you get there though you know the way up was well worth the effort. I never knew the mountains could be so gentle. I have never felt more at peace with the world than when I was up there amidst the pines and the persimmons.
The people were gentle folks who welcomed strangers warmly. The poblacion gave me the feeling that I was safe. No one would be snatching my cellphone even if I use it in public. No one would grab our stuff from the jeepney even if it was unguarded. Maybe I'm exaggerating things, I may have been just extremely lucky not to lose any of my stuff. Or... I could be right.
I fell for Sagada, with absolutely everything I am.
Now, I stare into space and smile into the nothingness of the air. Things inadvertently fall from my grasp and I don't know why I klutz around. And everytime I remember that Sagada is 13 hours away from Manila, my chest hurts, I can't breathe and I want to cry.
I have to go back there. If only to get a piece of my heart which I wasn't aware I've given away until the very last minute.
Shoot. I want to go back so badly that it hurts. :(
Pics to be posted soon.