[:D] "When Travel Becomes A Big Deal"

It was a breezy morning. Date unknown. His head was swaying along with the other passengers' as he sits patiently on a bus ride he labeled: 'my first long trip alone'.

Parokya ni Edgar's single, Gitara, which was playing on the radio speakers, matched perfectly with the mood he was in at the very moment. And as far as he could tell, he was enjoying the bumpy ride. His first bumpy ride alone.

The view outside was quite remarkable, too. He moved to the window seat and leaned to the glass to appreciate the view of wondrous and terrible diversity set before him: lush green fields of vegetation, fruitsatands selling juicy watermelons, muddy tracks of the recent rain, sari-sari stores with the occasional tambays, 'ice4sale' signs, the Sta. Cruz public market, puppies amusingly playing with a goat kid, debris of what seemed like a torn roof, the dilapidated hut fascinatingly without a roof, countless beautifully sculpted wooden figures (which suggested that he was still in Kapampangan grounds,), colorful flowershops, a serenly empty public school campus, a noisy computer shop, an INC cathedral, mossy brick walls, a child sh*tting beside a 'BAWAL UMIHI DITO' sign, the undying 'Soliman E.C. Septic Tank Disposal' advertisement, more lush fields, distant mountain peaks, the cloudy firmament, and eventually, the sign he had been anticipating: 'Hermosa Bataan 4 km'.

Before he knew it, the hour long ride was already in its final minutes.

He was not far. And in a few minutes time, he'd be sitting peacefully again in front of the computer screen where he would one day compose, while drinking a warm glass of chocolate, a blog post about the trip that had brought him to the silent sanctuary he is in at the very moment.

He steered his vision away from the bus window, which was now wet with the drizzle they had driven into. As the vehicle made a slow stop, he made his way out of the bus and, from there, marched the path to his humble abode, like a soldier returning home after surviving his first battle.

Not bad, he thought. Not bad.

“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.” -Lin Yutang