I am ashamed to admit it but until last weekend, I've never been to Vigan. The shame is not an exaggeration. For a Filipino writer with a published compilation of travel essays, this is a tragedy. I've been to Siberia, to Kathmandu, to Amritsar... but not to Vigan! Well, considering that it is anywhere between 7 to 10 hours away from Manila by bus, I might as well be in India, right?
Last month, gifted myself with a digital SLR camera for Valentine's to get me back to my early interest in photography -- a self-love exercise widely recommended for people recovering from workaholism. Coupled with this purchase was enrolling in a five-day workshop, which I enjoyed immensely. And because my class projects were quite successful, I rewarded myself with an overnight trip to Vigan. Just me and my camera.
Of course, the main issue was if it was worth traveling so many hours to get there and back. I would have spent as much time in the bus as I did in the place. But then again, I would not have written over 50 travel essays in my career if I balked at the idea of long-distance travel, right? So one Friday evening, I came home from work earlier than usual, stuffed a few essentials into a duffel bag, slung my camera over my shoulder and boarded the midnight bus to Vigan.
I arrived at 7:30am, wide awake despite a rough night. From the bus terminal, I took a tricycle to Grandpa's Inn, a modest B&B recommended by many of the travel blogs I browsed through. Unfortunately, the only room left only had an electric fan as all the airconditioned rooms were taken. Thinking it would not matter in an overnighter, I took it. A decision I would gravely regret hours later.
After breakfast, I hired a calesa to take me around the usual sights. I was determined to be a tourist. My P500 got me three hours of clippety-clopping over cobblestone streets and sometimes, having to pass paved avenues where buses and jeepneys reigned. It was then I realized that one day was all it really took to get a feel of the Heritage Village. In fact, every place I went to on the calesa, I could have easily reached by walking! (But I reminded myself every so often that I was playing the tourist and this is what most tourists do.)
In one morning, I was able to visit and photograph the St Paul Cathedral, Burgos National Museum, Crisologo Museum, Syquia Mansion, Plaza Salcedo, Bantay Church and Belfry, and the "pagburnayan" or pottery-making studio. (I chose not to visit Baluarte Resort and Hidden Garden as they were outside the immediate village. Missed out on the "abel" weavers too, sadly.) Lunch found me feasting on bagnet and pinakbet at Cafe Leona, another popular landmark. By the time I stepped out of the restaurant to make my way back to the inn, the noon day heat was unbearable. This is when I realized that I should've moved elsewhere and checked into an airconditioned room. The tiny cell I was lodged in was stifling; the ceiling fan hardly whimpered even at the highest power. To this day, I can't explain why I just didn't up and leave. Was it because I've paid in advance? Or just too tired to bother?
Anyway, having survived the afternoon heat somehow, I had merienda of yema and brewed coffee at Cafe Uno before exploring the famous Calle Crisologo, heart of the Heritage Village. The colonial houses that line this street are probably the most famous images of Vigan, the location for countess movies and photo shoots. So I clicked away, just like the rest of the camera-toting tourists that have gone before me. A few small purchases and I was on my way. But wait - there was one more "must try" in the list given by my friend Pauline, a proud daughter of Ilocandia -- the empanadas at Plaza Burgos. So I had a light, early dinner of special empanada (shredded veggies with egg and chorizo in a crisp, deep-fried pouch) at one of the plaza stalls.
The evening was only slightly cooler so I insisted on borrowing an extra electric fan from the front desk, making a mental note to change my travel plans. I decided to leave after breakfast on Sunday morning rather than after the noon checkout. It came out to be a good decision, after all, as the journey home was two hours longer, with more stops and traffic.
