Blame western pop culture
pandering outsiders for coining a needless also-known-as
name of this jaw-dropping place in Batanes. Racuh
a Payaman, as the locals refer to it, sounds more faithful to its appearance;
of rolling hills showcasing the wealth of nature. It takes a while before one's amazement is mellowed down by its spellbinding
landscape stretching as far as the eyes can see. I missed out on going to this
part of the island during my first visit here in 2014. On the morning when we
were supposed to head to Racuh a Payaman, my friend Audrey suffered an accident.
A tidal pool pulled her into the rocky bed while she was standing on a rock
formation at one of the viewpoints situated along the road.
It was a no-brainer. We ditched the
day’s itinerary and rush her to the hospital where the caring nurses treated
and dressed her wounds immediately. Fast forward five years later and on an uneventful media trip with the Tourism Promotions Board of the Philippines, I
finally had the opportunity to walk, lay down and jump over the fine grassy
knoll of Racuh a Payaman.
Okay fine. I get it when people
described it as Marlboro Country as most of us—pre-travel boom days—have only
seen bounteous grasslands and hills on those classic 80s and 90s Marlboro TV
commercials. I did too when I was a kid and I can still remember a
Marlboro-smoking cowboy shepherding dozens of cows across a vast hilly farm.
There were a dozen cows, goats
and a couple of dogs lying lazily on the wavy mounds the afternoon we arrived
there. A few other tourists appear like dots from a distance. I sensed the
world has gotten bigger as I sat on the grass. Ditching the urge to take
photographs, I stared at the cloud-covered tip of Mt. Iraya towering across
Diura Beach. An idea came to mind; I shall return and scale that peak next
time.
Lost in thoughts about life in
general and my uncertainties of the future, I let the picturesque surrounding
took over my mind. Not long after, a Zen-state of well-being reigned over me.
Why worry? I asked myself. The answer presented itself through the place
itself. Racuh a Payaman or an affluence
of pasture, gazes back at me as if telling me that experiences such as this—being
in that moment—enriches my life already.
I stood up and joined the rest of
my group as they huddled seated on downward slope of grass. I thought about
rolling myself like an 8-year old kid would do but settled to lie down again. I looked at the sky and as I listen to the sound of laughter from my fellow travel bloggers. In that moment, I feel reassured by kindred souls who
appreciate good karma—the kind that brought me to Batanes again.
