The sky was a picture of indecision when we boarded the bus from Legazpi to Sorsogon. It looked as if it was totally unsure of dumping rain or simply sheltering the Earth from the blistering sun—which was keenly intent on making an appearance that day. The weather was shaping out fine, and the blessed absence of rain made it far more ideal for travel, but there were still a few stubborn patches of dark clouds hovering heavily above us.

It was the exact same heavy sky curtain that made our earlier attempt to see the famous Mayon Volcano up close a completely futile one. As the bus revved up its diesel engine and gathered speed on the open highway, the wind aggressively brushing against my face increased its sheer tenacity. Trying to safely avoid a direct hit, I looked quietly out the window and was enthusiastically greeted by a majestic, sweeping countryside.