A month after visiting Ba Na Hills in Vietnam, where a replica French village piqued me with newfound interest about French designs, I found myself longing for a more faithful experience. The village, though spectacular, felt theatrical, a careful imitation of a culture I wanted to experience in its truest form.
Azalea Hotels & Residences Baguio offers more than just accommodation, it crafts experiences. From its expansive suites ideal for families and barkadas, to its thoughtful, locally inspired itineraries, Azalea seamlessly blends comfort and culture. Its prime location and elevated service are not just incidental, they’re integral to the kind of stay that reveals Baguio’s charm beyond the tourist checklist. This was evident during the recent Panagbenga Festival, where media guests were treated to a carefully planned weekend of hospitality, historical, and highland festivity.
In a country where bus terminals often appear rundown, characterized by sparse benches, a solitary ticket counter, and a parking lot crowded with buses, certain ones, like Victory Liner's in Baguio City, distinguishes it among the rest through ample space and thoughtful design that caters to the needs and comforts of travelers.
Long before the movie "That Thing Called Tadhana" influenced many from the younger generation to see Baguio City as a destination for broken-hearted people, the City of Pines has attracted a diverse range of individuals from various backgrounds for a multitude of purposes. For artists, the cool atmosphere of this mountaintop town fostered creativity, leading to a flourishing artist community over the years, which resulted in the creation of the Baguio Arts Guild, a prominent organization of artists founded by National Artists Kidlat Tahimik and Benedicto Cabrera aka BenCab, along with the late Santi Bose in 1987.
When I first visited Mirador Hill in October 2020, just when the city was starting to loosen up with Covid restrictions, it was still known to most as the Mirador Jesuit Villa and Retreat House. At that time, there were already plans to create a bamboo forest and an eco-park surrounding this haven of tranquility.
After devouring generous servings of Cordilleran cuisine at the Farmer’s Daughter, Missy and I were craving a coffee fix. “Plus, I needed to join our Christmas party for an hour via Zoom,” Missy told me. I figured the outdoor setting of this café I first saw on Instagram would be an ideal place to sit, sip, and chill—and in Missy’s case, to “Zoom.”
Standing outside the fog-covered ruins of the Old Diplomat Hotel, I found the eerie vibe hard to ignore, as I pictured a cinematic vision of a sequel to The Haunting of Hill House and of Bly Manor. For all its paranormal tales of housing wandering spirits, the history of these rundown, charming architectural remains provided a fascinating backdrop to any eight-episode horror series.
Fresh from binge-watching “The Haunting of Bly Manor” a week prior, it was understandable why I initially likened the feel of The Manor Hotel to the haunted series’ mansion. Take out the strange ghostly apparitions, and you would see a charming property laden with fancy landscaping and fascinating architectural patterns.
Some of my fondest memories of Baguio City always included food—well, and the exceptional company I was with. There was Sarah giggling non-stop at Oh My Gulay, my former girlfriend Lauren giddily explaining to me the intricate elements of Spinach and Chicken Galantine at PNKY Café (now sadly closed), and the heavenly face of another former partner, Monette, as she finished her plate of signature lomo ribs at Canto.
Devoid of any experience between the wheels of these big two-wheeled road monsters we refer to as “big bikes”, I still view the film Easy Rider with fascination and the source of my desire to someday acquaint myself with these types of motorcycles. My previous conception about the men who ride these powerful machines of motorbikes is synonymous with the wild and colorful characters the late Hunter S. Thompson rode for a year with and wrote about in his career-defining book Hell’s Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga.
It was nearing midnight of a Friday and as I sat at Victory Liner's Cubao terminal, a man being chased by a cop ran beside the post near from where I was sitting. He embraced the post like his life depended on it, to avoid being cuffed by the policeman. With all the reports of summary execution by cops, he might have a reason to hug for dear life. The cop's reasoning was, the tattooed bum was suspected of an attempted bag snatching. My friend, the hipster mum Gaye arrived to witness the end of the low key stand-off, and as the cop dragged the uncooperative suspected thief to the police headquarters, I kind of wish him a day in court and a smooth journey into the usual process of our justice system.
