The Curse of Baler April 23, 2010

Tsk tsk, this post is two weeks late. Unacceptable! Well, I have a couple of valid excuses so hear me out. One, I still don’t have copies of most of our photos during our Baler trip and two, I had a scary case of allergies recently. ‘Twas no biggie, really. According to the doctor, I got those either from weather (that’s hotter than David Beckham) or from something I ate. I don’t think I can blame it on the summer heat because I practically lived on the beach almost every weekend for the past uhm four or five years. And I don’t think it’s because of something I ate too… So I’ll just blame it on The Curse of Baler *dada da dumm*

Don’t get me wrong… We had loads of fun during the Travel Factor‘s 2010 Surfvivor Beach Games in Baler. It’s just that, eerily enough, our group had a bunch of unfortunate incidents there. The moment we boarded the bus, we were already doomed – suffocating, really. Our big-stupid-bus-that-could seemed to have a gasoline leak and we had no choice but to inhale the fumes for more than eight hours. Blech. The bus crew did attempt to fix the problem, which was why we had around thrice as much the planned stopovers. Oh I’m sorry, am I being whiny?

It’s a good thing the resort we stayed in was pretty upscale. We checked in at Bahia de Baler whose name, according to legend, was coined from a bunch of ditzy kolehiyalas who stayed there during the Spanish colonial regime. “Manong driver-uh, we’re kinda pagod na. Uwi na kami sa bahay-uh…” I kid. Or maybe not.

We also had a blast with the city tour, courtesy of CY factor. We just rode a trike all the way to Ermita Hill, which was overlooking the entire stretch of the beach. Then we headed to Semento Beach, which was more like rocks and uhh water, before buying some souvenirs at the local market. We went surfing for a couple of days, which translates to extreme body ache – and I’m not complaining about that, by the way. Jaah lost her slippers on the beach. We were almost chowed down by a bunch of dogs guarding that Trezzo Italian Pizza place, which was apparently closed a long time ago. On our way home, we almost got into a rumble with the rowdy barbarians at the bus station. Reminded me of those good ole days when me and my college – oh sorry, I meant graduate school – roommates lined up for UAAP tickets outside Ateneo, along with the fanatic daddies, scalpers, and jejemons. Where was I? Oh, and CY nearly drowned for the SECOND time on that same beach. See? Cursed, I tell ya.