A day on Sabtang island in Batanes

With a week to spend in Batanes, we were determined to visit at least two islands. Since we were staying on Batan island, we just had to visit either Sabtang or Itbayat to achieve our goal. But the weather reports were less than ideal, and we were advised to visit Sabtang island, since it was less than an hour away.

We took a van to the port by the famous Honesty Coffeeshop, where we hung around while waiting for a boat to arrive. It was a warm, sunny day and there were no signs yet of the storm that was on its way. We entertained ourselves by observing a pile of curious-looking structures in the water. "They look like jackstones," I said. "No, they look like Honey Stars," said my friend, who is always hungry. "They're wave breakers," said our guide, smiling at our ignorance. The water was bluer than blue. We got on the boat and headed out to Sabtang island. The water was the bluest I'd ever seen. We climbed up on the front, so there was nothing obstructing our view of the island, first a distant blur, slowly becoming clearer. This also meant being sprayed with salt water. But it was worth it. Even as we got closer, the island didn't look any more real than it did from afar. It was just too pretty. When we arrived at San Vicente Port, there were almost no people at all. It was as if we were on an abandoned set. I half-expected the tourist office to be deserted, but there was a friendly young woman at the desk, where we paid a registration fee of 100 pesos. Our guide, Roger, pointed to a map of Batanes on the wall, explaining that only three of its eleven islands are inhabited: Batan, Sabtang, and Itbayat. We could not visit the third one because it would be a four-hour boat ride, and we couldn't risk getting stranded with the approaching storm and all. He told us we were lucky, because at least we had a day to tour Sabtang. We walked around the village, where narrow streets are lined with centuries-old traditional Ivatan houses. Roger explained that the ones with four-sided roofs are called maytuab, and those with two sides are called sinadumparan. "The water just flows, so the roof will not rot," he said, pointing to the cogon-thatched roofs. He taught us some Ivatan words, which aren't very different from Tagalog. Bahay, which means house, is vahay in Ivatan. Bubong, for roof, is vuvung. In case we didn't get it, he pointed out that Batanes comes from Vatan islands, named for the Ivatan people. On Sabtang island, you can find idiangs - pre-colonial settlements of the ancient Ivatans. We went to Chavayan, a small village where time seems to stand still. We stopped at a small hut, where a lady invited us to taste tubha tea. She told us it was the secret to health and long life, and insisted we sit down while she prepared a cup. While waiting, we looked at the wall covered with items for sale. There was the vakul, the traditional all-weather gear worn by Ivatan women, miniature stone houses, and confusing looking things that turned out to be reefer slippers. "They won't get untied, they'll protect the soles of your feet, but they're soft and comfortable," the lady told us. My friend tried them on, but decided to buy tubha instead. The tea was slightly bitter and nutty, but when we found out that tubha was part of Lolo Marcelo's staple diet, we were convinced it was a good idea. We hadn't met Lolo Marcelo yet, but we had heard of him. At 104 years old, Marcelo Hostallero is the oldest man in Batanes, and possibly the most-visited. I wondered if we would be bothering him by dropping by, but he looked pleased to see us when we found him sitting outside his house, listening to the radio. "The knees are the first to go," he told me, tapping his cane on the floor. Lolo Marcelo needs it to help him walk, but other than that, he seems to be in perfect health. He told us that in his time, people didn't eat a lot of rice. "Kamote, ube, 'yan ang maganda," he said. He also rarely eats meat, but eats fish and plenty of vegetables. After a few minutes, we took our leave and Roger said we would be heading to Nakabuang beach, where we would have lunch. By then, we were quite hungry, but we still had difficulty consuming all the food. For three hundred pesos per person, we had soup, lobster, pinakbet, fish, beef, and turmeric rice. We tried, but we had to wrap the sugary banana dessert and save it for an afternoon snack. Ignoring the wisdom of not swimming immediately after eating, we ran to the water. What might have been a perfect moment was marred by the sharp corals, and the realization that the reefer slippers might have been a better purchase than the tubha leaves. But it was too late, and my friend realized the solution was simple. We stopped trying to walk, and started swimming. Everything was perfect. We were stuffed with yummy food, we were at the beach, and we had nothing at all to worry about. Until someone had the bright idea of spelling Batanes with our bodies under the natural rock arch formation. "There are seven of us! It makes perfect sense," my friend argued. We were considering staying overnight, but we decided to head back to Batan island. On the way back, we stopped by Chamantad Sanctuary, and took silly photos. Something about the overwhelming beauty made us feel like we had to hang upside down, jump as high as we could, and run so fast it felt like flying. Like the rest of the island, it was so beautiful it felt like we were stepping into a picture. I had to feel the grass to make sure it was real. It was getting dark when we rode the boat back to Batan Island. The water was a different blue, deeper and dreamier like the day spent on Sabtang island. - YA, GMA News