MC Restaurant

How long has it been? I cannot remember the time but the picture of how painstakingly we endured the heat of the sun going from pond to pond hoping to catch some fish, Tatay and I, is still vivid in my mind. I must have been talking and asking of questions then which scared the fish away. (Looking back now, I've been scaring fishes then already. Lol!)

Since I have been acquainted with the boys from Bacolod, I have long since expressed my great interest into renewing the experience. Opportunities have been presented before me many times but the chance of finally doing it happened just this week.

While our Muslim brothers are celebrating Eid Mubarak, we got busy and scheduled some interview and for a quick product training.

Since only three out of seven hopefuls showed up, we finished early and the free time that it brought us was just enough for some relaxation, i.e., fishing.

Toto and JD brought Kz and myself to MC restaurant which is located about a kilometer away behind the regional hospital. At four, the parking lot was full of cars, and the benches on one side of the pond teemed with people of all sizes. There were groups of kids, teenagers, families, couples, Koreans and some serious enthusiasts who even brought their own gear.

The mechanics was simple. The resort provides the fishing poles and bait. The customer pays for all the fish caught.

I made a production of hooking my own bait to the tilapia's great delight. As a result, I lost all of my baits on two occasions. But that did not prevent me from proudly brandishing two biggies before I had my fill of waiting and pulling. Among the three of us, we caught about a kilo and a half of fish which we had the staff grilled for a very early dinner.

Patag

Way back at Lear, Patag has already found its way on my must-go list. The opportunity, however, presented itself just lat month. I wasn't even invited yet I have managed to join a very intimate group of the Sendicos and their extended family that included Junrey, Marc and JD who asked me to tag along.

The outdoors, whether the mountains or the seas hold an inexplicable amount of interest in me. The thought of hiking and bathing under the waterfalls had me up before sunrise and on the road even before breakfast.

Of the many treats that the place is known for, we only visited the falls that feed the dam and the shrine that was built for the many local heroes who died during the Japanese occupation.

National Parks in the Philippines face the same problem, accessibility. Going up, we waited an hour for the PUJ to fill. Going back to the city, we had to cut our party short to make it to the last trip at 2:00 PM which we nearly missed. The trip back literally was a breeze with the PUJ almost flying, I decided to keep my eyes from the blur of trees we passed by rather than risk losing lunch.

Adrift in Sipalay Sugar Beach

Our day started with a much needed sleep after a long and exhausting discussion slash debate on issues like labeling/boxing a person, definition of normal, movies and series mainly with subjects on violence and psychological thrillers (which I have very little to contribute given that Dexter, Hannibal and the like never did appeal to me).

Since we started late (noon) with no idea of the bus schedule, we waited almost an hour at Bangga Patyo for the Hinobaan-bound bus after missing the one that passed by at the same time that we alit from La Carlota. All the buses that passed by in the direction we're going are filled with commuters to its narrow alleys that we expected the same. Luckily, we got on an air-conditioned bus in which we spent more than four hours standing, from our starting point to our point of destination. The only respite we had was the short stop at Kabankalan for a late lunch.

So, Driftwood Village was on the same stretch of beach as the Takatuka Lodge which caught my attention a few years ago. To get there, either you take a trike to Nauang from Molina bus stop (P100 for the trip which took about 15 minutes) and a paddle boat to cross a narrow span of water separating the island from the mainland (P10-15 per head for a one or two-minute ride) and walk about 500 meters along the shoreline or share a motorboat with other travelers from Sipalay Tourism Office.

It was already past five when we arrived at the resort, tired and hungry. We ordered Ham and Chicken sandwiches while we freshened up and get ourselves ready to witness the sun set at the beach.

Sunset was a magical experience, fleeting and elusive. We stayed until the stars came out and embarked on another night of word sparring with Marlo and Annie in the hammock and me opposite them.

When morning came, we started the day differently. Me swimming, Marlo strolling and Annie sleeping. We convened at the breakfast table. Food was good and the serving size can feed two. I had sausage which I failed to photograph having missed dinner the other night. Coffee was an experience in itself. It was strong (not as strong as I'm used to but it can hold its own) with nutty, chocolatey flavor. It was a good morning until news of home reached my consciousness and soon came the time for us to part ways: Marlo to Dumaguete, Annie to Bacolod and home for me and see about an ailing dad.

The Ideal Destination

Today was all about giving Marlo as much as we could in terms of cultural, geographical and gastronomical experience that is distinctly Negrense.

 After a very long first day, I left the house with him still sleeping on the couch while I went about marketing and preparing breakfast. When I got back two hours later, he was already up and about we walked to mother's to eat and walked back to prepare for yet another long day.

The road construction along Valladolid got us held up for a good thirty minutes, it was already lunchtime when we reached Bacolod. We alit in front of the old City Hall so we could walk downtown, crossing the city plaza stopping by at the Cathedral for the angelus before heading to the Capitol. There, we checked out the contents of the museum which is not that much from what I can remember then strolled at the capitol lagoon before walking the rest of the way to Pepe's for lunch and meet Annie as well (who elected to join us for the night at the house). I ordered him Salpicao while I had my usual Lamb Stew which he sampled sparingly.

Annie had the rest of the afternoon mapped out for us. She was able to get two girlfriends of her drive us to Silay and Talisay for the must visit Balay Negrense, El Ideal and the Ruins.

The search for Balay Negrense (which we called Balay ni Gretchen in reference to Annie's anecdote of it having been called as such by some tourists) was over after our novice driver got over her confusion over going straight ahead or turning left or right. We were the last to arrive and the staff were starting to call it a day. Having been there before, I was good after getting a good shot a sitting at the porch bench.

There are two ways (I learned during this trip) in which to reach the Ruins. One was through a private subdivision (which we used when I went there with Lira) passing through Rose Lawn which offered a refreshing look at memorial gardens with their amazing lights that cast soft gold glow, it makes you think of an outdoor party. We took the easier but longer route which passes through the airport access road bu turning left on the second stoplight (where we had to wait about two to three cycles as the green light was out of order...it was a funny one).

After many wrong turns and liters of fuel and bouts of belly-aching laughter, yes we did all what we had set to do and see. That included eating dinner at Ading's where I had JD join us. Suprises for the night include JD graduating in the same school and year as Annie's :)

An Unexpected Journey

There is no wealth of experience that I could tap from with this idea of entertaining a person whom I came to know yet seldom interact with from almost a decade ago.

Slow nights and free data are definitely ingredients for a silly recipe. I picked Marlo up from a bunch of guys I know to chat with one night. After a brief exchange, I found myself inviting him over to spend the Holy Week. He sounded unsure most of the time I checked him on his preparation that I didn't mind until one day before he was due to arrive, I suddenly realized I know very little about him and so began worrying about how to make his stay with me worth his spending hours on the road to get here.

He arrived four-ish and I picked him up from the terminal. He seemed to have not changed, it didn't take me long to find him in the crowd. He sat at the back most part of the terminal. At 31, he still looks youthful (just like me...hahaha).

His coming was welcomed by a torrential rain which came during dessert at Calea (after coffee at Kuppa ans dinner at Manokan Country). Taxi was scarce I did the impossible like calling the Maits (Jing2 and Manong) to get us one, to no avail. It didn't help that after getting wet, we stood on the bus for almost half the time that it took for us to reach LC.

I don't know how to label our partnership. Back home, were like an old couple retiring for the night with him busy on his manga and me in front of the computer while we chat about what happened in the intervening years. Our exchange was a quiet one, maybe because he was tired. He has been traveling since 7am.

Celebrating Freedom

As planned, mother and daughter (Jocelyn and Grace) went to visit mi casa to return unsold merchandise as well as the chafing dish nanay loaned them last Christmas. As they started late from Bacolod and buses being scarce due to some licensing lapses, I was able to clean the house, feed the dogs and even paid the electric bill by the time they arrived.  
Tatay suggested that I take them out for lunch and so I did. Since it was only on my way back that I spied a new resto at Uriarte, I brought them to Solstice for some back ribs, spare ribs and pata (which the "instagrammer" failed to document). 

We had Italian Affogato ice cream at home for dessert. Three generations (3 baby boomers, 1 gen x and 1 gen y) of unlikely acquaintances found two common topics to kill time (until it wasn't too hot to take on the road again): Dogs and Bisaya (the dialect).

On whim, I decided to join KZ in finding a money transfer agent for her school payment (after seeing my visitors off). The search took us to Hinigaran but to no avail. Rather than run to Bacolod so late in the afternoon, we decided to tarry a bit. We spent some time for snacks at Mila's (which brought back poignant remembrances of day's past involving their famous boxed bibingka), strolling around the time square. When it started to get dark, we made our way to Pontevedra and waited for Mildred at St. Michael's courtyard taking pictures and eating peanuts.

With seemingly so much going around, we forgot about the goodies we took out with us from Mila's. On the bench next to ours lay the remains of what has been the buko pie that I had yet to sample. Luckily, the tarts were packaged nicely in hard plastic, the dog was not able to get to it as well.

(The turnips, we bought them at San Juan along the highway on our way home).