On the mountain slopes were wild sunflowers and white lilies… and along the roadside, the fresh grass displayed its own spectacular beauty—on the grass were blooming little flowers of different colors, spread there like a blanket, among the dews on the ground.

The following day, the target time for leaving for Sagada was at 6 in the morning, which meant that I had to get up at 4:00, prepare breakfast, take a shower, do other personal self-care stuff,  and pack up. When Lee got up at 5:30, the hot breakfast was already waiting for him.

And so we started our drive to Sagada, again relying on Waze. It was about 9 hours from Baguio to Sagada, according to Waze. We decided not to hurry. We reasoned that we’d get there when we get there. That was our motto. We had everything we needed anyway. It was a road trip after all.

We drove around Baguio City proper before we decided to head for Sagada.

We made so many turns that we initially thought Waze had gone crazy. After more turns and more turns, we finally reached a point with a wide space—and I saw, for the very first time in my life, a view which I thought would be possible to exist only in paintings or postcards.

Far into the distance were blue ridge mountains that seemed to have been arranged in layers. Where one ridge would end, another ridge would appear. Some were blue ridge, some were green, some were blue-green. It was 7 in the morning and the sun had just risen.  The early morning sunrays were through the woods on the right side, the misty ridges were against the azure-blue sky as a backdrop on the left side, and far into the distant eastern skies were cirrus clouds still bathed in pink and gray, the colors of sunrise. 

It was December so the flowers were all in bloom. On the mountain slopes were wild sunflowers and white lilies and along the roadside, the fresh grass displayed its own spectacular beauty—on the grass were blooming small flowers of different colors, spread there like a blanket, among the dews on the ground. (Idiot me was too stunned to take pictures.)

Lee turned off the aircon and opened the car windows.  The cool mountain breeze was soothing.  The road was lined with pine trees. There was majestic beauty everywhere, and each view was more beautiful than the other.  I honestly did not know where to look at: to the view ahead, to the view on the right, to the view on the left, or to the view we left behind. Orchids were hanging from the branches of some trees. I kept on telling Lee, “Look at that mountain top, look at how the shadow of the cloud settles on those mountains, look at the morning sunrays between the pine trees, look at the blue-green mountains over there, look at how the peaks of the mountains seem to meet the sky, look at how blue the sky is…” ,  to which Lee  would say, “Beth, I’m driving! How can I see them?”

“Beth, Look! The Highest Point!”

I did not really expect Lee to look at the views I was pointing at, but I could not help describing them to him.  Sometimes when the road was straight and it was safe to look away from it for a second, he would look either to the left or to the right and say “Wow. Wow. Amazing.” Sometimes when we were at the peak, we could see, down below, the mountain tops where we came from. We kept on driving for hours and I silently admired the beauty that was around me. Jason Mraz was letting out a rather emotional song, and  I was singing along. 

“Oh, come on oh, yea yea I’m looking for love this time
Sounding hopeful but it’s making me cry
(Trying not to ask why)
Cause love is a mystery
Mr. Curiosity
Hey Mr. please
Do come and find me,  Love is blinding when your timing’s never right
Oh but who am I to beg for difference
Finding love in just an instant
But I don’t mind
Oh love at least I tried, well I tried…”– JASON MRAZ, MR. CURIOSITY

Suddenly, Lee stopped the car and shouted, “The Highest Point! Beth! Look!Let’s get off the car and take pictures!!!