After Summer

bridge

I suppose this picture isn’t showing anything definitively Ilocos. We could just as well be standing on any bridge anywhere else, but alas, this is the only picture of the four of us that I could easily access. Though I’m sure the other photos we took will eventually surface on Facebook, the way photos do.

I went to Ilocos Sur and Ilocos Norte last Friday to Sunday with two of my friends from my current office (M and R) and another friend from my former office (K). This was one of the first photos we took. We were still on the way to Vigan (our first stop) when the driver pulled over by this bridge and told us that it was a nice place to take photos at. I agree. šŸ™‚ If I hadn’t just woken up, I think I would’ve taken way more pictures.

Anyway, we went to a bunch of other sites in Vigan, Laoag and Pagudpud. I’m not sure if I’ll blog about the details. I probably will if I can find the time (or if I can make it). But right now, I just want to share my favorite part of the trip: (and of course, this was the part where we didn’t really take pictures) We were eating at one of the empanada “restaurants” in Vigan. It was the last night of the trip and we were on Calle Crisologo, and it was raining hard. I don’t even remember what we were talking about then. I may have mentioned as early as then that it seemed like a surreal experience.

You see, M was complaining about the rain. She said she hated the rain and how it ruined everything. I get her point. It was because of the rain that we weren’t able to ride the ATV at the sand dune place. It was because of the rain that we didn’t get to see the supposed awesome rock formations. It was because of the rain that we didn’t get to stay longer at the place where there were windmills. I get it. I wanted to ride the ATV and see the rock formations and stare at the windmills longer, too. But…

If it hadn’t been for the rain, we wouldn’t have had that hour to ourselves in the van, soundtripping and talking about the things we wanted, without having to consider if we were being too noisy because there were other people there. If it hadn’t been for the rain, we wouldn’t have had that semi-bond with our tourmates about how that rock formation must be cursed because it would rain whenever we mentioned its name. If it hadn’t been for the rain, we wouldn’t have been pressed for time to take photos by the windmills, and be forced to be more creative with the shots we took because we were desperately trying to keep our cameras (and ourselves) dry. And Calle Crisologo would not have sparkled as it did that night and the atmosphere wouldn’t have been as magical.

I’m aware that the rain can ruin a lot of things. But I still like to think that it’s one of the things that lead us to new discoveries. I understand how people can hate it, but I don’t think I ever can.

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