The Long Ride to Baler

Coming from a troublesome ride to Cabanatuan, I continued travelling north-eastward to Baler. 

While I’m usually fond of long rides, that day was clearly an exception. The entire half day & night of being on the road was already beyond enough. So I solemnly prayed and wished that the last stretch of that bus ride would be threstral-fast. Immediately, I searched for that bus to Baler and wasted no time. Finally, I found that hell of a bus I have been longing for all those hours.

“Casiguran” reads the bus sign. I certainly couldn’t afford another heartbreak so I approached the nearest person I could ask to confirm that such badass Casiguran-bound bus branded as D’Line is indeed d' line to my destination that night.

And I did receive the best news I had for the last sixteen hours. Like an electron jumping to the next energy level, I immediately hopped in and looked for that golden destiny seat. My happiness was short-lived however. From the looks of it, it felt like I would be gambling my life on taking the trip.

“This would be your seat, brother”, the barker affirmed pointing at a tiny seat near the bus door, which coincidentally was the last available seat up for grab. I sluggishly nodded letting my gaze wander around the environs. there were piles of luggage as huge as China along the aisle strategically placed on top of another leaving a very tiny space for passengers to walk on. The bus was overloaded, which apparently was a norm. I wouldn't take the chance given another option. 

The iron throne I hoped for turned out to be piece of shit, too cramped my butt won’t even fit. To add insult to injury, there’s a huge hole at the floor below my seat. The whole bus situation was unsettling in all the wrong ways. I believe the dread I felt was the same horror the Starks feel towards the winter comin.

To ride or not to ride, was the the million peso question. Not yet too late for rain check I guess. But my drained mind was failing me during those hours. Eventually, I claimed that last seat with half open eye. While waiting, I grabbed my phone to check for the time causing me a little miffled as my cell alerted me with another low-batt advisory. Exhaustion ruled over me during those times maybe because of the pints of alcohol I feasted on earlier that night. The odds were so bent on shitting right on my face. 

For a moment, I was suffocating so I get myself out of that bus to have a stick and gasp for a fresher air outside. “Here”, gestured a random guy offered some stoke. I politely declined as I don't usually receive things from strangers even if it was what I exactly needed at that time. We however had some quick chat about random things I couldn't exactly remember anymore about.

It was nearly one o’clock when the engine warmed up signaling that we were about to depart. I went up back to my bawdy throne and prepared myself for the long road trip ahead. The guy I was talking to earlier also followed suit; casted final blow of smokes and settled for his seat somewhere beyond those heaps of baggage just beside the driver's seat.

It further went cold and silent, the roads starting to become darker and darker as the night progressed. Right then, I first-handedly experienced what byaheng langit was, the bus racing with the winds amidst twists and turns en route.  

Moments passed, I paid minimal attention to my savaged situation just hoping I would get a few minutes rest but couldn’t. A number of people boarded while a few dropped off at some point. 

Eventually, I lost consciousness and fell asleep but forced to wake up as we reached the first stopover  mid-way through the ride. I mandatorily hopped out of the bus because I was sitting in that area blocking the bus door, for the other passengers to pass. I was too lazy to eat so I entertained myself catching some breath of smoky air to fight the growing cold inside. Popping out of nowhere was the strange man who approached me earlier and had a lengthier conversation, this time.

“You’re heading to Baler.” He stated matter-of-factly while staring like he’s reading my mind.

I nodded in agreement and threw the same question.

“Me too”, he muttered. 

It turned out  it was the only question I asked in which I got a decent answer.

The conversation went on; him asking the questions and I politely answers. Likewise, I kept reverting the same questions but weirdly not getting any answers. I was even asked why I was traveling without companion, where will I stay when I get there, and a dozen creepy more. Creeps and all, he warned me it's unsafe  being there, alone.

I gave in with all the strangeness that’s happening so I respectfully excused myself and returned to my bus seat. Before I left, he offered me a menthol candy which I awkwardly accepted just so I could end the uncanny encounter. I believe it delighted him in some sadistic way ensnaring me with my own qualms—me sharing personal stories without realizing and him terrorizing me with stories closely enclaved with my real fears. What totally crept the hell out of me though was the hellish grin he  flashed which I was able to glance upon just before I turned away.

The bus started to hit the road again, minutes later. I resumed to wander my eyes on the road likewise. I tried to appreciate the forest-ness of the area despite the blinding darkness. A few more push and we passed by a hopeful Welcome to Maria Aurora road sign; the mark greets with so much hope and love.  Or so I thought.

It turned out to be another big disappointment upon learning that Baler was nowhere near yet. Then I started to feel a little more of internal freak out in my chest again. But I also felt the need to find the beauty out of the entire mess. The uncertainty at the moment should be enjoyed as it happens. I stopped counting down the clock’s ticks and forced myself to sleep again, but to no avail.

I silently watched people around me swimming on their deepest of slumbers. For some moments I envied them, appreciated their dedication; traveling & enduring such long rides transporting goods and all probably to make a living. Even felt sorry for their worn-out dresses & stressed faces. But genuinely relieved of their joyful snores and apparent simple kind of living. I was there for leisure and yet those people were paving the night to make a good case of surviving. I was drowning myself in those sorts of realizations when I finally saw that “25 km to Baler” sign which left my heart dribbled.

As I was counting down the nearing end of my trip, I began to appreciate that hole under my seat, the company of every passenger on that bus who was still imprisoned of dreamland’s greatness, and that old and grumpy bus for bringing me thus far. Minutes later, I did reach Baler safely. I merrily jumped out of the bus and cherished the Baler ground for the first time. I expected people to hop out too, well at least that man who told me earlier that he was bound to Baler as well. But I found no one who took off but me. I threw a gaze at the bus as it left particularly on that space beside the driver’s seat where that stranger was earlier sitting. I saw no one. No nothing. Not even a driver seat. I'm quite sure he never took off the bus yet as I was practically the bus door guard for the last five hours.

I was left puzzled and scared to death with that sight. I walked a couple of meters before finding a chartered trike to my intended haven for the remainder of the night.  It was already a few minutes past five o’clock and the sun will soon splinter across the Pacific Ocean to pour its first light. Finally,  my body had the chance to feel that much-coveted love courtesy of the soft bed, oh god. And it was heaven right then and there for the next two hours.

P.S. Later, when I got home back in Los Banos, I was even more puzzled because the menthol candy the stranger gave me was missing on the pocket where I placed it in my backpack. Then just today while searching for some details online, THIS I found.