You, me, and a couple of bikes in Batanes

With little money and plenty of time, we needed to come up with a bright idea for our third day in Batanes. We were on our honeymoon, but the first couple of days were spent in the company of strangers, touring Batan and Sabtang islands. Frustrated bikers that we are, we took advantage of the empty roads and rented a couple of mountain bikes at the budget-friendly rate of 250 pesos a day.

With no map or plan, we set off to a rather awkward start, wobbling down the street where the Batanes Cultural Travel Agency office was. I had only recently rekindled my love affair with bikes - with my secondhand Japanese bike whose gears I never use. In fact, I had no idea how to shift gears, and to be honest I wasn't even sure what they were for. Having grown up in the city, I never learned to drive because walking is usually faster with the way traffic can get. My husband gave me instructions, but by this time we were already biking down the National Road, which wound all around the island. Despite having trouble with the gears, I was having the time of my life. The sun on my skin, the clean breeze tangling my hair, and best of all, no tour guide controlling our itinerary. It was just the two of us, our bikes, and the open road leading to uncharted territory. Oh, and the cows. But they were quiet, unintrusive cows, which cannot be said for the frequent mounds that let us know their digestive systems were working fine, thank you. This became our first topic of conversation, my scrunched-up nose prompting my husband to scold me. "It's so beautiful, and there you are frowning the while time!" Avoiding confrontation, I told him Batanes could be a test of a person's tendencies toward optimism (his) or pessimism (mine). "You see cows, I smell..." I said, happily pedaling around the thirty seventh mound since we left town. We began in Basco and had passed through Mahatao, where we took note of a view deck we would stop at on our way back. Though we knew the road would eventually bring us back to where we started, it was past noon and we didn't think we could circle the entire island before night fell. We passed Vatang Grill, which had been recommended to us by Byron Peralta, a friend of a family friend. A resident of Batan, he would have shown us around were it not for some business he had to attend to in Manila. Instead, he placed us in the care of Roger Doplito, a provincial board member who brought us to Sabtang Island the day before. "Hindi naman sa pagiging biased, pero masarap talaga doon," Byron had said of Vatang Grill, which is owned by his brother. Ignoring our grumbling stomachs, we biked past the restaurant, agreeing we would turn back when we reached Honesty Cafe, then have lunch at Vatang Grill before heading back to Basco. By this time, our sunblock lotion had worn off, and my skin had gone from pasty to sunkissed orange to sunburnt red. My butt was also very painful, as bikes aren't the most comfortable seats around. But the scenery was absolutely lovely, and we kept on biking just to see the next impossibly beautiful view around each bend. The road was long and winding, and for every downhill stretch there was an uphill climb. This presented another opportunity to observe my husband's ever-sunny disposition, his arms stretched toward the sky as he wheeled down the road. Of course, I had my hands firmly on the handles, and I was too busy worrying about falling off the cliff. Every so often, he would beg me to stop and smile for a photo. I let him win, sometimes, and we have a bunch of photos with me and my forced smile, looking misplaced against the breathtaking background. What he may not have realized is I was truly happy, despite my unwillingness to pose for the camera. I loved having the day to ourselves, with practically no one in sight. And I loved not knowing where we were going, or what we'd see next. When we got to Honesty Cafe, we stopped for a while for a drink. We had no change, so we ended up getting several items worth a hundred pesos. The cafe's name is explained by its principle - customers take what they need and drop their payment in a box. No one watches, but the store seems to be doing just fine. We were supposed to head back like we planned, but we had forgotten our hunger somewhat and we both knew we just had to bike a little bit farther, see a little bit more of the island. So we pedaled on through Uyugan town, and eventually found ourselves at a beach near the Ruins of Sungsung - the remnants of a ghost town swallowed by a tsunami over fifty years ago. It was almost three in the afternoon, and we had been biking for around five hours. This means we were very, very sweaty. We didn't have a change of clothes, but the water was too inviting to resist. My husband watched in disbelief as I ran toward the waves, clothes and all. I'm usually very particular about proper swimming attire, but it was too hot to be finicky and I figured there wasn't anyone around, anyway. I was wrong. Soon after we jumped in the water, we spotted a man not far off, but he seemed to have the exact same idea. He was just cooling off. I soon realized that we were hours away from Basco - meaning I was hours away from a shower and fresh, dry clothes. Before I could start complaining, we decided to head to Vatang Grill for a very late lunch. On our way there, it began to drizzle. Then it began to rain. Hard. Because we were already wet, it didn't matter that much, so we pedaled on, motivated by the thought of food. "On sunny days and in rain!" I shouted at him, accidentally swallowing some of the rain, which tasted nothing like the rain in Manila. "In sickness and in health," he shouted back, laughing. The staff at Vatang Grill welcomed us, smiling despite the state we were in. I immediately gave them points for not judging us for dripping all over their floor. We had cuttlefish (for me), buttered chicken (for him) and turmeric rice (for us). The food was hot. The food was good. We were very happy. Realizing it was past four, we paid for the food and hopped back on our bikes. The ride back is always shorter, so a few minutes past six we arrived at the BCTA office. On our way back, I had already begun to feel nostalgic. Although we had already toured much of the places we passed on our bikes, seeing the island from inside a van is completely different from experiencing it on a bike. There's something about exerting physical effort to get somewhere, like somehow it becomes more precious because you worked for it. The view is more beautiful because your legs are aching and you've lost all feeling in your behind, but you'd do it again in an instant. Also, there's nothing romantic about sunburn and sweat, but it was the best part of the honeymoon, that day spent biking aimlessly over the hills, under the sky, beside the sea. - YA, GMA News