The smooth and subtle wind softly caressed my skin while waiting for the Sarao. It was parked in front of a shed lined with orange plastic chairs whose roof was already trying to break free and wanting to crumble on the ground. You can hear the jingles and carols signalling the start of the long holiday break together with men barking names of different places. Stars of different colors hang loosely atop the electric posts. No wonder four lines of twenty or so people were lined up, cramped in the shabby shed waiting for the next ride and hoping to start their two-week vacation as early as they can. After an eternity of standing as the driver collected the fares, I felt like a queen seating on my throne as I claimed my seat. The Sarao then, began its ascent.
Magallanes, Cavite, a small town in the mountainside, was a two-hour ride from Bacoor and at least four hours from the province of Bulacan depending if the guy on the wheel was a Formula 1 driver or if he was someone who has all the time in the world. On the way, I boarded a Victory Liner up to Cubao, and then the MRT until the Taft station, boarded another mini bus to Naic and then the Saraos. It felt like Amazing Race and finally I am here in my final leg of the competition wishing to finish the trip as soon as possible.