ten ₱esos

A GL / Lizardo bus departed Baguio City’s Dangwa bus station at 9:29, heading north toward Mountain Province, and my vacation destination, sunny Sagada.  My buddy Dominic and I arrived in downtown around 3:30, as it’s always a six-hour trip.  We’d decided to check into Saint Joseph Inn, owned by the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Luzon, and across the street from the Church of Saint Mary the Virgin.

Saint Joseph Inn is also the lodging closest to the bus stop.  So we stepped down from the bus, wondering why the conductors don’t place a portable step on the pavement as an aid to boarding and disembarking.

We walked up cement steps and a cement footpath leading from the sidewalk up to Saint Joseph Café, as we didn’t see any sign directing us to lodging, and we had seen people in the restaurant.

One of them directed us to reverse course and go to the inn sign (that doesn’t face incoming guests) then turn right to walk up more steps to the inn.

In the lobby, at the service desk, I asked for a nightly rate.  The clerk wouldn’t tell me.  She asked, “How many of you?”

I gestured to Dominic and myself and replied that we are two. I asked again for room rental rates. No answer. I asked 200 pesos each? 400 pesos? She asked, “You want private room?”

I said, “Yes,” and the desk clerk said, “This one” and gestured to her right (my left).  She walked around the counter, unlocked the door knob, and I asked the price. “400 per night?”

“No. One t’ousand, two hundred.”

Dominic almost fainted (kidding).  “This is the off-season!”  So she offered to let us have it for 1,000 pesos.

“You have nothing cheaper?”

“We have others, with common bath.”

I asked again, “What’s the price? Four hundred?”

I’d see on the Internet 200 pesos per person or 400 pesos per room in several hotels during the off-season.

“No, sir.”

“Well, what’s the price?”

“Five hundred, sir; but that is with a common bath.”

Okay; after two minutes we’d heard the price for the cheap rooms.

“Can we see a room?”

“Which one, sir?”

“A room for rent for 500 pesos.”

I didn’t know if the rooms had one bed or two.  If they were small rooms with only one bed, we’d rent two for P500 each and use a common bathroom.

But the clerk seemed … uninterested in leaving the lobby and the deluxe rooms to show us to the paupers’ quarters, so we departed the inhospitable hotel.  It does not honor the name of Saint Joseph.

By the time we zig-zagged and found our way to the sidewalk aside the main street, ten minutes had elapsed.  We then had the choice of walking past the bus toward Sagada Guest House, the obvious choice for many tourists, because it’s in plain sight, straight ahead, or to follow the main street’s turn leftward, stop to register as tourists in Municipal Hall then choose an inn on the main drag.

We could have carried our bags from hotel to hotel to try to lodge somewhere we hadn’t previously, or we could just walk down the eastern steps to Olahbinan Resthouse, as we’d done before.  After a dusty bus ride (windows open), we wanted to take showers then go to a café for refreshment, so we didn’t bother inquiring in any more hotel lobbies.  Alwin in Olahbinan gave us the key to room 7, we hiked up the polished wood stairs, then we settled in.

We had an early dinner in nearby Masferré restaurant then strolled down the main street to Bana’s Café, where Dominic likes to lounge.  Dominic drank moccachino, and I drink Mountain Tea while we leafed through national geographic magazines from 1968, 1974, 1983 and 1997 (seriously).

We walked back up the street several meters to an internet café which was full of teenagers playing Counter Strike on the computers with small monitors.  We browsed in souvenir shops and played with kids and talked with Korean college students from Baguio City while we waited to use a PC to send e-mail.

Back in Olahbinan Resthouse’s room 7, we read books that we’d brought before clicking off the light and retiring.