Philippine Hotels, Travel, Vacation, Real Estate and Maps, News

By Michelle Ciriacruz

On the blind spot of Queenie’s rage, Pagudpud in Ilocos Norte courted the reckless and the naive with a lively grace. Though it sent timid souls indoors, safe and snug, in their modernly fitted resort rooms, it passed on a message, loud and clear, that, with fun, each moment counts.

This was November. A moment’s insanity got our heads turned around, and my friend and I found ourselves on the 10-hour long bus trail leading from Manila to the outskirts of Cordillera and tourists waypoints of Ilocos.

Our mission was to enjoy the white sands and foamy surf of Pagudpud, but was sidetracked by various adventures in Vigan and Laoag. Little did we realize that as we made our way up Luzon, the second super typhoon to hit the country in 2006 would soon be upon us. In two days, it would devastate Aurora, Isabela, Benguet, Ifugao, La Union, Nueva Ecija, Quirino, Pangasinan, Tarlac, Zambales, and other provinces in Northeren and Central Luzon.

But just as nothing in the universe is perfect, Queenie’s fury had a blind spot right where we planned to go. The northernmost beach of Luzon is protected by a mountainous coast, cupping Pagudpod and nearby beaches in a sort of valley.

A sort of blind spot, unfortunately, also characterizes the tourism industry in the country, as we realized as more of the sights and sounds of our impromptu kadatrip unfolded…

Past Forward Vigan, Ilocos Sur

Two days of blissful ignorance under the sun preceded another two of blustery seas. In Vigan’s oldest part of town, the mestizo district, now under the care of UNESCO as world heritage center, we walked centuries-old roads cobbled in stone as well as the dust of lives and events that founded the city.

Vigan is the oldest surviving Spanish colonial city in the Philippines, established in the 16th century as a trading town. Often described as “like no other place in the Philippines,” it caught the light of the rising sun, lifting the shadows of its past from stone crannies and antique crevices up to meet an aerobics class’ funky music coming from one of the town’s plaza (Plaza Burgos), now guarded by fast food shops and locals in sweat suits.

In one the ancestral houses along Plaridel and Mena Crisologo streets, we found ourselves back in time, visiting stately rooms, browsing though a library of giant dusty tomes, and peering out airy capiz windows. Seems we entered former Ilocos Sur governor Carmeling Cirsologo and husband Congressman Floro Crisologo’s house, where the lady caretaker told us a tale of murder and fitful mystery.

The assassination of Vigan’s beloved congressman right inside the Vigan cathedral in 1970 remains unsolved, conspirators at large—tragic, all too common, nevertheless, in politically turbulent Ilocos, and but a reminder of real-life dangers that could color our Vigan experience.

At Vigan Plaza Hotel, a hearty meal of the air-dried and deep-fried Bagnet and black longanisa sped us on our way to Laoag. We were on a tight schedule—taking busses, jeepneys, and tricyles is all very cheap and quaint, but does make travel time longer and frenetic.

Star-Less in Laoag, Ilocos Norte

In fairness, Fort Ilocandia as a resort seemed excellent. Its red-bricked façade, trellised bougainvilleas, and landscaped garden scream first class facilities. Staying only for an hour in Laoag, we hightailed it out of there as we were so excited to see the only “5-star hotel in Northern Luzon.”

However, our visit, which my friend had been dreaming about for ages, inspired by the resort’s beautiful online and print advertising, promptly got rid of my starry-eyed mood for that day because of one less smile I got from the customer service lady at the check-in counter and tight shadowing we got from the guards.

I had gotten used to warm greetings and helpful deeds from local people in the places I’ve been to, I guess. When I candidly said that we were simply sightseeing and were not about to check in, the air seemed to turn as arid as the sand dunes around the place. We were told curtly—no apologetic smiles and genuine wish that they could do better for us here—that we could walk only as far as the fountains.

Though we were prepared to spend much just for the opportunity to lounge around in their restaurant beside the beach, my mood turned black only let me give in to my friend’s continued wish to see the place after much cajoling and emotional blackmail. I know that first-class hotels have to have tight security; however, I don’t believe that making potential guests feel unwelcome is part of that policy.

Anyway, she convinced the guard that we do have money to spend for food and drinks and got her wish to go as far as the black-sand and windy beach.

I’m glad my friend enjoyed the visit. It was her wish come true, after all; for me—rich surroundings and service please me, but not as much as genuine human warmth.