Trekking in Tinglayen (Kalinga Province)
In Lonely Planet's guidebooks often suggest a local guide who has experience in that particular city. I never pay attention to that because when you arrive in said location, there is always a plethora of willing guides. I was therefore pretty surprised when the jeepney to Talinga screeched to a halt in front of a house just inside the town. "You go here," he said. "Talk to Francis." Yes, he had in fact dropped us off at the only guide in town's house!
Francis came out to meet us, and he was a warm and welcoming 48 year old man. He invited us to his home and gave us coffee. As some of you know, I don't drink coffee. However, in the Philippines you will be offered coffee a thousand times a day. This time, I gave in because it was a local coffee bean. I kind of liked it. Hmm...will I now join the ranks of millions of coffee drinkers?? Alex assured me that this coffee tasted different than western coffee- sweeter. Probably why I liked it!
Francis told us of our options for hiking, and showed us his diary books in which all the people he'd guided had left glowing remarks in every language imaginable. He had books dating back to the 90s...quite the professional! We agreed to do a short hike that day, then an overnight hike the next. Francis then took Alex and I to our hotel (Sleeping Beauty Inn). As we were settling into our room I heard a voice that made me pause.
What I was hearing was the dulcet tones of Francoise's french accent. I wandered into the hall and she said "Oh hello! I cannot find ze way to Kabayan so I follow you here!" Haha. So I got to enjoy another dose of her eccentric ways!
After lunch, Francis took us to a small shop to buy matches. We bought 3 big boxes of matches. Why? Because when we went through the villages, matches were seen as payment for taking pictures. Francis would hold on to the matches and distribute them to the older citizen's as he saw fit. Easy enough!
Francis took us on a short hike down the river and through some rice fields. The walk was slow and very nice. Francis took the time to show us local plants, including one flower that could be used to pack a wound to stop the bleeding. Every fruit tree was pointed out and and he gave us insight into the local area. For instance, the rice fields in the area were for personal use only; the villages made money by selling coffee beans, and every type of bean - white, black, etc. We passed through a village and there were a few older women with tribal tattoos all over their arms and some on the upper
chest. The women seemed proud to have their picture taken, and some requested I send a copy! Francis explained the symbolism of the tattoos...most were nature depictions like a river, or ferns. One lady told me she liked my tattoos because my skin was so pale and you could see them well!
On the way back to town we took a dip in the river. It was very sandy and I'd forgotten what it's like to swim in water you can't see straight to the bottom! A weird feeling at first. The water felt very theropuetic to my sore muscles from the past few day's activities. Afterward, I took a shower, ate a light dinner and for lack of better things to do in that tiny town, went to sleep.
We woke the next morning at 7am to start the hike. We said goodbye to Francoise - she admitted she probably shouldn't
do a big trek, finally - and then we were off. First task - climb a mountain. Up and down, up and down and around we went. The views were staggering...rice fields etched into mountain sides, the Chico River surging below us, clear blue skies above us. Francis had a good laugh when I, ogling the scenery around me, stepped off the path directly into the rice paddy! I was up to my ankle in mud and I had a tough time getting my shoe out! We walked for a few hours, including a few breaks, before reaching the first town.
The town was atop a tall mountain and had a steep set of cement stairs leading up. I was huffing and puffing and wondering how on earth the people managed to leave their home at all. Then I saw the children prancing up and down with no problem at all and I realized once again - it's what you're born into. The altitude and the sheer climbs were completely natural to them, but not for me! They giggled at me when I gasped for breath, the little rascals! Inside the town we met a few more older women, who also posed for a picture. I noticed that many of the women and girls were wearing lovely beaded necklaces. Even though their clothes might be plain or old, they seemed very proud of their native jewelry.
Then it was down the mountain side once again, winding through more rice terraces until we reached the bottom by the river next to a large waterfall. Here we had our lunch (boiled egg and rice and tiny tomatoes we found on a bush) and watched some of the village children playing in the water. They leapt from rock to rock like little mountain goats - it put me to shame! Turns out they were looking for tiny river crabs, and had a decent booty to take home with them. Alex and I took a turn in the water (guided by the children), but it was so cold I could only take a few moments.
With one last hill to climb, I trudged upwards to Tulgao, the village where we would stay the night. We met an older man near the top who was heading to his rice field to check the water level; Francis introduced him as our host. He spoke only a few words of English, but he was very welcoming as he lead us back to his home. We were all to sleep in the loft with one of his daughters. We took a rest as Francis and our host cleaned and cut the vegetables to be eaten at supper, and then we took a tour of the town. The people in the village were so friendly, I was really touched. Many made great efforts to talk to Alex and me and smiles were on everyone's faces. We sat down in a little area that was clearly a gathering point for the villagers, and they gave us more coffee and posed for pictures and laughed when they saw them. After a few moments, the camera hysteria calmed down and the children went back to playing. I was able to take a short video that shows a more ordinary scene in the village.
Finally it was time for dinner - a delicious vegetable concoction with sardines and the local red rice. So yummy! Francis left to have a drink with some friends (so Filipino) while a few stayed behind to talk with us. Our host (I forget his name!) had several bamboo instruments that he played for us. I'm not even sure what instrument you'd call it...but you played it by striking it against the hand and getting the reverberations to sound. He gave us a few and tried to teach us how to play the rhythm, but it was harder than it looked! I had to excuse myself around 8...time to sleep!
The next morning we started early at 6am. Breakfast (red rice, white bean, and leftover vegetable from dinner) and then we were saying goodbye. The pace really picked up for a few reasons - it was mostly downhill, it looked like it might rain,
and what I think the real reason was....champion Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao had a fight that afternoon and Francis didn't want to miss it! The way down was very precarious at times, and I slid as much as I walked. A few cuts on my legs, but no major injuries! Just as we reached the road, where we would have to walk another 2 hours, the rain started and a bus just happened by. Francis flagged it down and we hopped on...what good timing! I didn't mind the last hour being cut short...that doesn't make me lazy does it?!
Back in town, I took a well-earned shower, bought a plethora of snacks, and hopped the same jeepney to Tabuk - from which I'd take the night bus back to Manila. Why do all things revolve around Manila??
Francis came out to meet us, and he was a warm and welcoming 48 year old man. He invited us to his home and gave us coffee. As some of you know, I don't drink coffee. However, in the Philippines you will be offered coffee a thousand times a day. This time, I gave in because it was a local coffee bean. I kind of liked it. Hmm...will I now join the ranks of millions of coffee drinkers?? Alex assured me that this coffee tasted different than western coffee- sweeter. Probably why I liked it!
Francis told us of our options for hiking, and showed us his diary books in which all the people he'd guided had left glowing remarks in every language imaginable. He had books dating back to the 90s...quite the professional! We agreed to do a short hike that day, then an overnight hike the next. Francis then took Alex and I to our hotel (Sleeping Beauty Inn). As we were settling into our room I heard a voice that made me pause.
What I was hearing was the dulcet tones of Francoise's french accent. I wandered into the hall and she said "Oh hello! I cannot find ze way to Kabayan so I follow you here!" Haha. So I got to enjoy another dose of her eccentric ways!
After lunch, Francis took us to a small shop to buy matches. We bought 3 big boxes of matches. Why? Because when we went through the villages, matches were seen as payment for taking pictures. Francis would hold on to the matches and distribute them to the older citizen's as he saw fit. Easy enough!
Francis took us on a short hike down the river and through some rice fields. The walk was slow and very nice. Francis took the time to show us local plants, including one flower that could be used to pack a wound to stop the bleeding. Every fruit tree was pointed out and and he gave us insight into the local area. For instance, the rice fields in the area were for personal use only; the villages made money by selling coffee beans, and every type of bean - white, black, etc. We passed through a village and there were a few older women with tribal tattoos all over their arms and some on the upper
chest. The women seemed proud to have their picture taken, and some requested I send a copy! Francis explained the symbolism of the tattoos...most were nature depictions like a river, or ferns. One lady told me she liked my tattoos because my skin was so pale and you could see them well!On the way back to town we took a dip in the river. It was very sandy and I'd forgotten what it's like to swim in water you can't see straight to the bottom! A weird feeling at first. The water felt very theropuetic to my sore muscles from the past few day's activities. Afterward, I took a shower, ate a light dinner and for lack of better things to do in that tiny town, went to sleep.
We woke the next morning at 7am to start the hike. We said goodbye to Francoise - she admitted she probably shouldn't
do a big trek, finally - and then we were off. First task - climb a mountain. Up and down, up and down and around we went. The views were staggering...rice fields etched into mountain sides, the Chico River surging below us, clear blue skies above us. Francis had a good laugh when I, ogling the scenery around me, stepped off the path directly into the rice paddy! I was up to my ankle in mud and I had a tough time getting my shoe out! We walked for a few hours, including a few breaks, before reaching the first town.The town was atop a tall mountain and had a steep set of cement stairs leading up. I was huffing and puffing and wondering how on earth the people managed to leave their home at all. Then I saw the children prancing up and down with no problem at all and I realized once again - it's what you're born into. The altitude and the sheer climbs were completely natural to them, but not for me! They giggled at me when I gasped for breath, the little rascals! Inside the town we met a few more older women, who also posed for a picture. I noticed that many of the women and girls were wearing lovely beaded necklaces. Even though their clothes might be plain or old, they seemed very proud of their native jewelry.
Then it was down the mountain side once again, winding through more rice terraces until we reached the bottom by the river next to a large waterfall. Here we had our lunch (boiled egg and rice and tiny tomatoes we found on a bush) and watched some of the village children playing in the water. They leapt from rock to rock like little mountain goats - it put me to shame! Turns out they were looking for tiny river crabs, and had a decent booty to take home with them. Alex and I took a turn in the water (guided by the children), but it was so cold I could only take a few moments.
With one last hill to climb, I trudged upwards to Tulgao, the village where we would stay the night. We met an older man near the top who was heading to his rice field to check the water level; Francis introduced him as our host. He spoke only a few words of English, but he was very welcoming as he lead us back to his home. We were all to sleep in the loft with one of his daughters. We took a rest as Francis and our host cleaned and cut the vegetables to be eaten at supper, and then we took a tour of the town. The people in the village were so friendly, I was really touched. Many made great efforts to talk to Alex and me and smiles were on everyone's faces. We sat down in a little area that was clearly a gathering point for the villagers, and they gave us more coffee and posed for pictures and laughed when they saw them. After a few moments, the camera hysteria calmed down and the children went back to playing. I was able to take a short video that shows a more ordinary scene in the village.
Finally it was time for dinner - a delicious vegetable concoction with sardines and the local red rice. So yummy! Francis left to have a drink with some friends (so Filipino) while a few stayed behind to talk with us. Our host (I forget his name!) had several bamboo instruments that he played for us. I'm not even sure what instrument you'd call it...but you played it by striking it against the hand and getting the reverberations to sound. He gave us a few and tried to teach us how to play the rhythm, but it was harder than it looked! I had to excuse myself around 8...time to sleep!The next morning we started early at 6am. Breakfast (red rice, white bean, and leftover vegetable from dinner) and then we were saying goodbye. The pace really picked up for a few reasons - it was mostly downhill, it looked like it might rain,
and what I think the real reason was....champion Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao had a fight that afternoon and Francis didn't want to miss it! The way down was very precarious at times, and I slid as much as I walked. A few cuts on my legs, but no major injuries! Just as we reached the road, where we would have to walk another 2 hours, the rain started and a bus just happened by. Francis flagged it down and we hopped on...what good timing! I didn't mind the last hour being cut short...that doesn't make me lazy does it?!Back in town, I took a well-earned shower, bought a plethora of snacks, and hopped the same jeepney to Tabuk - from which I'd take the night bus back to Manila. Why do all things revolve around Manila??
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