Cut off from the rest of the country, and shrouded by storms, Batanes ...

QLOCAL
Cut off from the rest of the country, and shrouded by
storms, Batanes is still a place of mystery—and yes,
curiosity—for most Filipinos. Terrie V. GuTierrez
heads north to make friends with the place
BATANES FOR
BEGINNERS
58 travelife NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 2007 www.travelife.biz
PHOTOGRAPHED BY NICKY SERING AND TERRIE V. GUTIERREZ
First-timers to Batanes need to know one thing: The weather rules all.
“Bring enough clothes for five days, at least,” advised a friend when
she learned I was going there for three days. There’s good reason for
the warning. Until recently, travel to and from the island had been limited,
with storms cutting off access for days at a time. So much so that you’ll find
people here have a fatalistic attitude toward life.
On the day we left, Manila was gloomy and there was every chance of
rain. I envisioned Basco, the capital city on Batan island, in gray weather,
but it was sweltering when we arrived. In the un-air-conditioned arrivals area,
which looked like a long barangay hall, people were taking off jackets and
coats, no doubt feeling misled about the sunny day that greeted us.
Still disoriented from the travel preparations the night before and the
early flight, I lounged in the arrivals area waiting for our luggage to be unloaded
from the plane. On one wall was a faded map of Batanes, which we
all took to studying. Batanes province is composed of around 10 islands,
but only three—Batan, the largest and most populous, Sabtang, and Itbayat,
farther north—are inhabited. The rest look so much like cookie crumbs scattered
on a blue tablecloth. These islands are the farthest north of the country
I’ve been, and I was excited to start exploring, beginning with Basco.
In the van on the way to our hotel, we passed houses set close to narrow,
winding roads that followed the contour of the shoreline. Trees framed
a rugged limestone-hewed coast. In the distance was the port, with a lone
container ship at the dock. Except for our van on the road, everything was
quiet. I don’t know if it was the early hour—it was just past eight in the morning—but
certainly the peace was a change from the constant noise in Manila.
I expected to see stone houses everywhere, but it seemed that Ivatans
these days, or at least those in the capital, like their houses modern.
Not 10 minutes later, we were at our hotel. A few years back, tourists
would be hard-pressed to find decent accommodations here. Today,
although you still won’t find a Shangri-La on the island, there are a good
number of hotels and pension houses to choose from. The place we stayed
in, Batanes Seaside Lodge and Restaurant, is a four-story building set on the
edge of the cliff, overlooking a rocky beach. From the hotel balcony, off the
dining area, is an unobstructed view of the beach.
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LOCAL BaTaneS foR BegInneRS
“you have good timing,” our innkeeper, Manang Lydia
Roberto said of our arrival, as she supervised her waitstaff
with our breakfast of fried rice and fried flying fish dipped in
vinegar and Batanes’ strong garlic. Apparently, this is the perfect
time to travel to these parts. Unlike the rest of the philippines,
Batanes has practically four seasons. Because it’s so
far up north, its climate is more temperate than the rest of the
country. In what locals like to call winter (yes, winter!), cold air
traveling down from Siberia, China, and Taiwan goes down
to Batanes. Taiwan is a near neighbor, separated only by the
Bashi Channel. In fact, the Ivatans are close kin to the Tao
people of Orchid Island, Taiwan’s southernmost territory.
“It’s great that it’s sunny, but I’d love for you to experience
a storm here,” said newly elected Basco mayor demy
Narag later when we met up with him. “Storms are different in
Batanes.” How different? you only have to look at the traditional
Ivatan stone houses, which have thick walls to keep away
the cold winds and rain in winter to realize that the weather can
get pretty extreme. And what happens in winter, we asked the
mayor. “we close our windows,”
he said, smiling. The best time
to be here though is in summer,
roughly March-June, when the
weather is relatively mild. The rest
of the time, the weather is apt to
change from rainy to sunny at the
drop of a hat.
Surprisingly, “we get a lot of
local tourists,” mayor demy told
us. “The ones who like to see
untouched or unusual places.”
Batanes has these in abundance.
Being away from it all is part of
Batanes’ allure, and jaded city-
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dwellers will certainly feel recharged here.
wide-open spaces, and a 360º vista
ensure that even the most stressed-out
urbanite will be able to slow down. In
the 2002 census, Batanes had less than
20,000 people spread over some 200
square kilometers. Untouched rolling hills
and cliffs just beg to be climbed, and kilometers
of open road are perfect for cyclists
and road-trippers. Just get on your
vehicle of choice and explore. Or just opt
to walk around, even though distances
between townships can be daunting to
walk for people used to the convenience
of small city blocks. however, you won’t
have trouble getting from one place to
the next. There is ample transportation
around. And it’s practically a rule on the
islands for motorists to give people they
meet on the road a lift, as we tried to do
with a group of kids walking home from
school. But the kids, shy of strangers,
politely declined, preferring to walk the
long way home.
The islands that comprise Batanes
have a different topography from the
rest of the country. By some geographical
quirk, the province feels more like
the Orkneys in Northern Scotland, with
its craggy cliffs and rolling hills, than the
philippines. Batan and Sabtang islands
have gentle rolling hills and slopes and
friendly beaches. Meanwhile, Itbayat, the
most remote of the three, has no natural
shoreline and is full of craggy cliffs, prompting someone in our group to quip,
“It’s not a good idea to go to Itbayat when you’re depressed. you just might
jump off one of the cliffs!”
The second day, we crossed to Sabtang on a fallowa, an outriggerless
boat common in Batanes. while most of us were accustomed to riding
outriggers in our travels around the country, it was a bit daunting to be in
a small craft in the open sea without the slim protection of, well, the actual
outriggers to balance our weight. But our guides say fallowas can ride the
waves and outriggers are not ideal for Batanes’ choppy waters. An hour
later, a bit deaf from the loud engine and more than a little nauseous from
the engine fumes and the swaying of the boat, we hit land. Immediately, we
spied a picturesque lighthouse on a cliff, one of several such structures dotting
the province.
The famous Ivatan stone houses in barangay Savidug were our first
stop. Though a lot of Ivatans have modern houses, especially in the capital,
many of these stone dwellings are still inhabited by locals. Savidug looks like
a place where time stood still. Except for occasional reminders of modern living—a
sari-sari store sign, and radios in some houses—the village must have
looked the same a century ago. what adds to the aura of being stranded
in time is the fact that the village and the rest of Sabtang only get 12 hours
of electricity daily, restricting access to a lot of modern conveniences. Many
of these houses were built during the latter part of the 19th century with the
help of masons and carpenters from Cagayan valley. Traditionally two-stories
high, the houses have meter-thick cogon roofs that can last decades and
meter-thick walls of pulverized limestone. Locals quarry the rock, which are
then burned at high temperatures and pulverized. The resulting powder is
mixed with cogon grass and used to plaster the walls. Not far from Savidug
we chanced upon an archeological dig of a burial site jointly sponsored by
the University of the philippines, the National Museum, and the Australian
National University. The scientists were on a break so they didn’t mind showing
us around their campsite.
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LOCAL BaTaneS foR BegInneRS
“we still haven’t gotten to this part of the site yet,” said affable Bong
dizon, one of the archeologists. “This” turned out to be partially unearthed
human bones mixed with broken pottery. The seemingly innocuous human
detritus was lying by the roadside, looking so much like bleached corals
or white stones. Though not usually sentimental, I found the whole scene
poignant. human remains and habitations of a time past being studied by
the often-clueless present generation.
Going around Sabtang, I remember thinking that the locals’ friendly-butshy
demeanor was so different from the suspicion we encounter in the
city. Life here seemingly operates largely on trust. for instance, in Savidug
and later back in Basco, we were a bit shocked to learn that we could just
go into any of the houses and be made welcome.
“are you sure we can just go in?” we asked. Such behavior is not done
in the city.
“people here don’t lock doors,” said chris, our guide. In fact, it’s
common for people to just go into their neighbor’s empty house to borrow
something, the owner assured that the item will be returned… in time. So
like locals, we dutifully wandered into people’s living rooms and kitchens,
sometimes surprising homeowners with our presence. No one stopped us.
In one backyard in Savidug, we examined a local still, with clay jars full of
taru (sugarcane vinegar) and a big contraption in the middle of the courtyard
for grinding sugarcane to extract its juice for palek, the local wine. In one
house, we entered the living room to be greeted by an old woman, weaving
a vakul, the funky-looking headgear Ivatans wear as protection against the
rain. Manang Emilia habana, as she introduced herself, waved us to a seat,
and seemingly nonplussed at the sudden appearance of strangers in her
living room, proceeded with her weaving. It is labor-intensive work, with
each piece taking about a week to make, said Josephine, Emilia’s daughter.
weaving vakul is the family business, with each selling for roughly p500.
In another, we stopped to use the pump in the backyard to cool off from
the heat. Except for Manang Emilia’s, all these houses were vacant, with
the owners either off visiting friends in the neighboring town or out running
errands.
Later, tired from wandering into strange houses, we drove off to whitesand
Murung Beach, where we camped under the Murung Arch, a natural
limestone formation that provided the only shade on the secluded beach.
a group of foreign tourists were there ahead of us. Having just finished
their lunch, they invited us to use their campsite while they went swimming.
In spite of the alluring sea, most us didn’t venture into the water. Just the
thought of the sharp rocks underneath those waves was enough to deter
even the bravest of us.
Back in Batan, we took the scenic route along mountain roads returning
to the hotel, stopping at a few interesting sites along the way. In the
distance, the mysterious cloud-capped Mount Iraya loomed like a huge
guardian over the island. we passed outcrops of rocks in the distance called
idjangs, natural stone fortresses common in both Batan and Sabtang islands
that Ivatans once used as hiding places against invaders. Everywhere is
(fRom LefT) BRIng Home gaRLandS of fIeRy onIonS; fRIendLy kIdS poSe
foR THe cameRa; Road SIgn caRved on a STone HouSe on SaBTang
a sense of space, the view uninterrupted by houses or people. At some
points, we stopped to let the livestock—horses, cows, and goats—pass.
we bought provisions and souvenirs at the Honesty coffee Shop, so called
because the store relies on its customers’ innate sense of honesty. There
is no attendant to help you out with purchases. An itemized list of prices
is tacked on one wall and customers simply buy the goods they want and
leave the money on the counter. Even if such a business practice seems
counterintuitive, it works—the honesty Coffee Shop has been in business
for several years. on the way to Racuha payaman, more popularly known
as “marlboro country” because of its green rolling hills, we passed by what
remains of Songsong village, which was wiped out by a tsunami in the
1950s. For a long time, the shells of the ruined houses were left standing,
a reminder of how harsh nature can be. This time, we saw some yellow
construction markers and dump trucks in what used to be the edge of the
town—looks like building will begin anew in Songsong. here it seems, as in
everywhere, progress is relentless.
It was late afternoon when we got to Marlboro Country. Stunned into
momentary silence by the vista of sea, cliffs, green rolling hills, all we could
do was take it all in. Seemingly drunk from the crisp mountain air, we all
went a little crazy. we jumped, ran, shouted at the top of our lungs (believe
me, it was a good place for catharsis), rolled on the grass, a foolhardy thing
to do with goats and cows grazing nearby—and generally threw our cares
to the four winds.
Later, we met a famous resident of Batanes over dinner at mayor
demy’s house—the fearsome-looking tatus or coconut crab. A live
specimen was brought out to the garden where we were all busy cracking
shells and stuffing ourselves with the delicious coconut-flavored meat of
its more unfortunate cousins. Over exclamations and some curses over
how big it was (one crab is the size of a dinner platter), we went for a
closer look. with its long legs and mottled shell ranging from blue to almost
black, the tatus is a strangely beautiful creature, although you won’t want
a free one anywhere near your fingers with those wicked-looking claws.
A local delicacy, the coconut crab lives on land among rocks, prompting
speculations among the amateur zoologists in our group that the tatus is
in fact more a spider than a crustacean. The lively debate went on as we
dipped the crabmeat in vinegar-with-garlic and drank beer and palek—and
ended unresolved. The general consensus was that, whatever it was, it
was delicious.
Our last night in Batanes was spent drinking and reliving our
adventures in the quiet of the evening, the houses around us dark as if their
occupants had already gone to bed. don’t be fooled, said the mayor—the
houses may be dark, but the occupants are probably not asleep. Ivatans
do know how to live it up. Socializing is done in backyards, with friends
coming over for a simple meal and a drink or two.
I spent my days there in a reflective mood. Batanes does that to
people. Standing on one of the hills in marlboro country or Racuha
payaman (which is Ivatan for “wild pastureland”), with the magnificent view
of the coastline below and Mount Iraya in the distance, I was convinced
that even a confirmed atheist would find his religion here. n
62 travelife NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 2007 www.travelife.biz
NAVIGATE
YOURSElf: NAVIGATE
YOURSElf: DUBAI
BATAN
ISlAND
How To geT THeRe
asian Spirit (asianspirit.com) flies to Basco four times a week on Tuesdays,
Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. The boat ride from Batan island to
Sabtang costs p80/roundtrip.
wHen To go
After winter but before the monsoon season hits, around April-June.
wHaT To BRIng
Enough clothes for two extra days. The weather is unpredictable so this
is the one place where overpacking is actually sensible. Include a jacket,
shorts, swimming gear.
Sturdy footgear—sandals and hiking shoes. you’ll be doing a lot of walking.
A camera, batteries, charger, several memory cards/sticks. Almost every
nook and cranny is worth photographing.
Cash. I don’t remember seeing ATM machines in the capital.
A first-aid kit, stocked with anti-dizziness tablets. Boat rides and even
jeepney rides along winding roads may leave you reeling.
A hat.
A mountain bike. Batanes’ rolling hills and winding roads are perfect for
mountain biking. In fact, the province’s terrain is perfect for aficionados of
extreme sports, be it mountain biking, spelunking, or mountain-climbing.
wHaT To do
Take lots of pictures. Either on your own or join photographer Mandy
Navasero’s photo Safari. She has an upcoming photo safari to Batanes this
december and January. For more details, go to mandynavasero.com
Get interested in history and archeology. There’s an ongoing joint archeological
dig by the University of the philippines, the National Museum, and
australian national university on Sabtang island. while this isn’t really part of
the island’s attractions, the archeologists are more than happy
to chat with passing travelers about their findings on early
Ivatan culture, if you happen upon them during breaks. visit
the remains of the village of Songsong, which was wiped out
by a tsunami in the 1950s.
Bone up on local art and architecture. visit the Ivatan
houses on Sabtang island. Check out Fundacion pacita,
the late artist pacita Abad’s residence-turned-museum in
barangay Tukon, Batan island. Fundacion pacita has reproductions
of the artist’s works on display and the house itself
is interesting. In fact, we thought it would make an ideal
writers/artists’ colony. A few meters away on the next hill,
amidst lush gardens, is the residence of former education
secretary Butch Abad. Caretakers will gladly allow you to
tour the gardens and the surrounding property.
Go beachcombing. On Batan island, visit valugan beach,
which is strewn with huge boulders that reportedly rolled
down or were thrown out when Mount Iraya erupted. On
Sabtang island, pack a lunch and check out Murung beach
and the Murung arch, which was formed naturally from limestone.
Go on a road trip. The winding and nearly empty roads are
perfect for driving around. you won’t be making quick time,
though, as every corner is a photographer’s dream scene.
Make like Maria von Trapp. Batanes’ rolling hills, most
especially the spectacular Marlboro Country will make you
want to belt out the Sound of Music’s classic theme song.
guaranteed. or just sit and take in the magnificent views.
Contribute to the local economy—shop! The locally
grown garlic and onions are smaller and more pungent than
those sold in Manila. Bring home some palek, and tasty
dried flying fish and dorado, and taru (vinegar). The Honesty
Coffee Shop in Ivana town, Batan island has provisions to
tide you over as
you explore the
islands. It also
sells garlands of
garlic and onions
for travelers
to bring home.
Sample the local delicacies.
Some dishes to try: tatus
steamed in its own fat and
dipped in taru with garlic; venes, hONESTy CAFé
a vegetable dish made from
gabi (yam) leaves. put your food coconuT cRaB
on kavaya (breadfruit) leaves,
which are used as plates, much
the same way we use banana
leaves. And wash everything
down with palek or beer.
wHeRe To STay
Batanes Seaside Lodge &
restaurant (single regular room,
p450/night to p2,200/night for
suites). national Road, kaychanarianan, Basco, tel (+63921) 229-0120,
(+63915) 940-4823, e-mail lroberto_seaside@yahoo.com
Pension ivatan (From p980/night for a matrimonial to p2,500/night for a
family suite). national Road, kayvaluganan, Basco, tel (+63920) 281-1278,
(+63921) 442-8841, (+63926) 957-6223, pensionivatan.com
The high school on barangay Sinakan on Sabtang island can also put
up tourists for the night at p100/night.
You can also stay at the lighthouse on Batan island. perfect for honeymooners.
contact the local tour guides or tourism office for details.
Recommended!
Explore Batanes on your own or get some help from the locals. For tour
guides, get in touch with Juliet Catalunya of the Batanes Eco-Cultural Tourism
cooperative, tel (+63919) 455-9015, (+63919) 369-5341; or chris catalunya,
tel (+63915) 373-8152.
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