Bagasbas Beach 4:57 PM

A long overdue entry.

Bagasbas Beach was one of the places I enjoyed in my visit to Camarines Norte last February 9-12. Because Daet's a pretty quiet town, there wasn't much to do at night except hang out at the beach. So after dinner at Mr. Chinese Magic Man's restaurant in our first night in Cam Norte, the six of us (Dickie, Michelle, Dante, Robin, Joel and me) headed for Bagasbas Beach.

The place was a little deserted when we got there, which was surprising. I was kind of expecting more people to be enjoying the sea breeze at that time. I'd kill to have a beach near my place, and the Daet folks are lucky to be living near one.

The cold wind stung my face a little and I was glad I had worn a light jacket because I get cold easily. Our group spent several minutes just marveling at the scary waves. Bagasbas Beach is a surfing and kite boarding haven for local and foreign surfers alike and apparently holds the title of 61st surfing destination in the world (Dante read aloud this piece of information from a flyer on Daet as we wolfed down the laing in Central Plaza Restaurant earlier that evening).

It turns out we were just a day late in witnessing an annual kite boarding competition. Too bad. I would have wanted to see that. Bagasbas Beach is, they say, a good place for newbie surfers--although the big waves I saw that night didn't look newbie-ish in my opinion. Haha. (Surfing--one of those things I have yet to try. My officemate Cecil and I are dying to learn surfing one of these days but we're still checking out cheap packages and the ideal time for us to go on leave from work.)

Anyway, the guys, especially Dickie, were craving for a beer and some chips. So we walked along the beach strip to look for some munchies and drinks. The place isn't like Boracay's White Beach which is crammed with restaurants, bars and shopping stalls--and that was just fine with me. I liked the solitary, raw look and feel of Bagasbas. And even if the small, dimly-lit bars along the beach looked a little run-down (probably because of the strong winds), the entire place had its own charm.

There was a sari-sari store right across the place where we parked, and Dante, Michelle and I volunteered to get the drinks. I forgot the name of the place, but it was managed by this amazing old lady who was sewing under poor lighting conditions as she ran the store. Before we decided on our orders, I watched her as she steadily inserted a sliver of thread into the eye of a needle and started doing some complicated stitching. She looked 85 years old and still had better eyesight than me.

As I wasn't in Manila, I didn't expect the place to sell vodka and the like. So beer was the choice drink of the night.

"Anim na San Mig Light po," Dante said to the old lady.

I made a face. Never liked San Mig Light Beer. I'm not a beer person at all and I prefer the taste of tequila or vodka or wine. But if I had to drink beer, I'd choose something other than San Mig Light. So I inquired if there were other beer beverages.

The old lady peeped into the ref and recited, "San Mig Pilsen, San Mig Light, Colt 45, Red Horse--"

"Red Horse," I answered promptly. "I want Red Horse too," Michelle added.

For a second there, Dante stared at us women like he was gauging our beer-drinking capabilities and then turned to the old lady. "Uh, apat na San Mig Light at dalawang Red Horse po," he said.

So the men ended up drinking the girly beer while us girls had Red Horse.

(Red Horse. Yum. I haven't had one in a very long time. It was my favorite beer back in college and of course, it got me way tipsy on several occasions. On one school night, a friend and I made a bet on who could finish 1 liter of Red Horse first. So he parked his car in Shell, and we bought ourselves a 1-liter bottle of Red Horse each. I won the bet. Well, I nearly retched outside Shell Select, but still, I won.)

I was thankful that the Red Horse beer made my body feel all warm because Bagasbas Beach really had some mean winds. While the others ate balut (I was so inggit, but I didn't need those extra calories) and drank beer, I watched as a few children played tag in the sand as the waves crashed onto the shore.

The entire shoreline wasn't that long and it was the perfect spot for running. I was itching to run. Brought my running shoes with me, actually, in case there was an opportunity to run. I asked Robin jokingly if he was willing to drive me to Bagasbas Beach the next morning at around 5am so I could run, and he wasn't too hot on the idea. Haha. The others teased me, saying that I could run from our hotel to Bagasbas (which was a 6K distance), then run along the shore, and run back to Jollibee in time for breakfast. Haha. Sounded like a good plan actually, although I knew the UN Dept. of Safety and Security would have a fit if they found out I was running on the deserted roads of Daet alone at an ungodly hour.

We went back to Bagasbas Beach the next night to have dinner in Kusina ni Angel. The grilled seafood was super delicious--and super cheap! Dickie insisted on paying for the entire group, and when the bill arrived, the total bill was like 900 pesos. Nine hundred bucks for a dinner of six which consisted of various seafood including large prawns. The price is completely unheard of.

Given the opportunity, I'd go back to Daet just for Bagasbas Beach. I owe myself a run. And it won't hurt to have a cold bottle of Red Horse too.

Here's my lopsided take on Bagasbas Beach from the car during one of those mornings.

The Quest for Laing: Day 1 in Cam Norte 7:35 PM

Last February 9, I left for Camarines Norte, a province some 350 kilometers south of Metro Manila and known as the crossroads of the Tagalog and Bicol regions. My colleagues and I were to travel via land to visit different UNICEF-assisted day care (or ECCD--early childhood care and development) project sites in this vast area.

Because land travel time to Camarines Norte, Bicol takes 8-9 hours, we spent the first day traveling to our destination. The road trip was drearily long, uneventful, and consisted of twisting and turning paths up the mountains. I felt carsick at some point but just stayed quiet and concentrated on the music playing on my iPod to keep from hurling on the carpet of our Land Cruiser.

By 5:30 pm, we had reached Cam Norte's capital town, Daet, where we were to stay for the next three nights. Despite its status as the provincial hub, Daet is still a pretty secluded, backwards kind of town, and one ought not to expect any grand hotels in this area--or even 3-star ones for that matter. Villa Mila, our hotel--if you could call it that--was old and shabby and musty-smelling but it was generally clean, and I even felt incredibly lucky that we had aircon, clean towels and hot water in our rooms. In the past, I've been to remote areas where accommodations meant a rickety wooden bed with a mosquito net, an electric fan and a bathroom that had a pail of water and the most basic toilet (read: no flush and no toilet seat). So, Villa Mila was, to me, still a sweet deal for Php 900 per room per night.

We had worked ourselves up to an appetite by the time we reached Daet, so as soon as we checked in our bags, we headed downtown to scout for a place where we were to eat dinner. Our group was craving for Bicol's native fare, laing and the super spicy Bicol Express, and we wanted a restaurant that served the authentic version.

We were in for a disappointment. In a land where we assumed that laing was being served in every street corner, we discovered with great dismay that Daet's idea of "in" dining were Jollibee and Chinese restaurants.

Every time a native-looking restaurant came into view, we'd stop the car and check out the menu. No laing and Bicol Express AT ALL.

Is this a joke? we asked one another incredulously. Are we really in Bicol??

One of our stops was Kingfisher Restaurant, which was recommended by the somewhat zombie-fied staff of Villa Mila. The name 'Kingfisher' alone excited us as it conjured mental images of grilled fish and fresh seafood prepared the native way. One wall of the restaurant showed photos of Kingfisher's six commercial fishing boats, but when we checked the menu, the best sellers were chicken, roasted pork--and Japanese cuisine. And yup, still no laing and Bicol Express on the menu. There were pork dishes cooked in different ways...but no Bicol Express. W-E-I-R-D.

So we headed out of Kingfisher Restaurant, hungry and disillusioned, and stood in the street discussing where to go next. A woman, who had the air of a donya in those parts, approached us and asked us why we were standing outside when there were many available tables inside her restaurant. Oh. So she was the owner of Kingfisher.

We told her, apologetically, that we were hoping for laing and Bicol Express, but we checked the menu and found out that her place wasn't serving these. The woman's back stiffened, and suddenly, she was saying in a very antagonistic tone, that her restaurant was far, far different from the other dining places in town and that she did serve Bicol Express, but it was in the ref, ready for thawing and cooking. And in the same tone of voice, she invited us to dine in Kingfisher.

Well, her brand of customer service was certainly different because she didn't sound hospitable at all. In fact, she sounded like a person about to participate in a bare-knuckled fight.

Michelle, who was really craving for laing, said very politely, "No, thank you, ma'am. We're hoping to try the native laing tonight for dinner and we'll just try looking for it in another restaurant po."

And Dante, who had in the past encountered snakes and other wild creatures in the remotest parts of the country and didn't seem like the type to be intimidated easily, piped in somewhat fearfully, "Maybe we'll eat here next time instead...?" His voice trailed off as he gave her an anxious, we-don't-want-any-trouble look.

And Donya Kingfisher, her chin sticking up, launched into yet another loud, angry litany on the culinary delights found in her restaurant (chicken teriyaki was one of them apparently) and that the Bicol Express WAS. IN. HER. REFRIGERATOR. (She pronounced each word with such reverberating emphasis.)

Where was all this anger coming from?

She was getting scarier and scarier. (And I was thinking wildly in my head that she had a clear, straight path in my direction and could easily pin me down to the ground with her weight if we refused point-blank to eat in her restaurant.)

I don't remember exactly how we managed to escape her; I was too afraid to look back. Haha. I'm sure the others gave another round of hurried apologies and then we all got into the car as quickly as we could. After a few more minutes of restaurant-searching, my stomach was really growling in hunger. Truth be told, I didn't care at that point if we were going to eat laing or some mediocre version of Chinese food; I just wanted some food in my system. But the others were dead set on eating authentic Bicol food--and so the quest continued.

When the next restaurant came into view, my heart sank. It was called Central Plaza Restaurant (or something like that) and from the looks of it, it was another Chinese dining place. But we still decided to ask anyway.

I was the first to go in and I asked the usual question: Do you serve laing and Bicol Express?

The person I approached happened to be the owner--some Chinese-looking dude--but thank God he was the very opposite of Donya in the restaurant owner behavior spectrum. In a pleasant tone of voice, he apologized and said right away that they didn't serve that kind of food but they had other Filipino dishes in the menu, and Chinese food as well (but of course).

Filipino cuisine served in this resto but, er, no special Bicol dish? I was beginning to think that we had stumbled into some sort of gastronomic conspiracy and that the locals' memories had probably been modified by some laing-hating alien.

And then--

"Although if you really want laing and Bicol Express," he said slowly, as if he was thinking hard to himself, "I can come up with something."

My eyebrows shot up. If this guy was willing to give us what we wanted even if it wasn't on the menu, who were we to refuse?

Ecstatic and bordering on ravenous, we sat ourselves down wearily in one table and started ordering rice and stuff. The restaurant was clean and bright, and with many customers eating, so we felt good about our decision to eat here. I could already see Mr. Chinese Magic Man busying himself in the kitchen (which was in plain view) with his staff, and I heaved a sigh of relief. We were going to eat at last.

When the food arrived, I wanted to laugh. Well, in fact I did. I suppose it took a lot of effort on the part of the owner to really produce the dishes we wanted using the current resources he had, because both the laing and Bicol Express came in a small saucer each, looking like such precious commodities.

The Bicol Express tasted more like binagoongan, which was a bit disappointing, but oh well. As for the laing, it tasted different from the kind of laing we were accustomed to, but it was good and the saucer was wiped clean immediately. While we ate, we amused ourselves by suggesting theories on how Mr. Chinese Magic Man conjured up the dishes. Because the restaurant was situated near some houses, he had, in all likelihood, knocked on his neighbor's door and asked for a dish of laing.

And even if the laing he served wasn't spectacular, Central Plaza Restaurant gets plus points for going the extra mile in terms of customer service. (And in price too! Their family-sized sinigang had a generous serving of hipon, and it cost a little over 100 pesos only!)

So when you happen to be in Daet, well, you'll see a lot of gabi trees by the road, but don't expect to find the elusive laing in menus. It's still a mystery that we haven't managed to clear up, by the way.

a different kind of Valentine's 9:14 PM

Got back from my 4-day trip to Camarines Norte just last Thursday. It was a good site visit, and I'm psyched to share my photos and notes on this experience. Currently, I'm editing the pics on Photoshop (just for color enhancement purposes) and I'll post everything soon. =)

For now, I would just like to say that it's good to be back in Manila. I miss the city, my books, my workouts...and my coffee! Now I know how a drug addict feels like when one is in withdrawal mode. I was hoping there would be good native brewed coffee in Cam Norte; sadly, the only decent coffee available was in the sole Jollibee branch of Daet, Camarines Norte. But then, that's all part of the site visit experience, and I will tell the whole Cam Norte story soon!


Thursday, Feb 12

Arrived in Makati last Thursday at 6:30 pm. It took me some time to lug all the food and other pasalubong up to my place and unpack my bags. Then I met up with A because he wanted to buy something from Nike before running that same night.

Believe it or not, even if that 9-hour road trip back to Manila was exhausting, I was dying to run. All that seafood and that coconut milk found in Bicol cuisine could not possibly cause zero impact on my weight. And I was right: I gained 2 pounds from that trip. Moreover, I would have wanted to run while I was in Daet, but there was no good place for running there. So aside from coffee withdrawal, this Ms. Kick Galvanic was seriously suffering from running/workout withdrawal syndrome as well.

A needed new running socks so we checked out Nike. It took a lot of willpower to refrain myself from buying this pretty purple training jacket; I decided to purchase instead, as a sort of Valentine's gift, two pairs of Nike Dri-Fit Lightweight running socks for A.

Socks. It was all very romantic.

Then we ran in Legaspi Park at around 11:30 pm. A warned me not to overexert myself (as I was wont to do) because I was tired from the trip.

As fate would have it for obstinate people like me, Fatigue eventually reared its ugly head. I ran at a moderate pace for only 24 minutes straight, and I had to stop right after because I was just so damn tired. When I slowed down to walk, I cursed out of frustration. I'm supposed to be conditioning myself to run at 5K for tomorrow's Power Run by the Manila Bay, and my semi-run that Thursday night felt like a DNF on race day.

Sometimes I wish had formal training on running just so I'd be able to mentally handle exhaustion better. So far, all I do are just practice runs at the park without even having an exact idea of my pace per kilometer. Thank God I at least have A for a running buddy (among other things, hehe).

Kidding aside though, I need to invest on one of those watches that can track my pace, distance and calories burned. And if I religiously follow a 16-week training program recommended in Runner's World, I can at least informally train on an individual capacity.


Friday, Feb 13

Friday the 13th. Luckily, it was a good, good day for me. Left the office at 5:45 pm to run some "running" errands before having dinner with A. I first went to NBC Tent at the Fort to register for Sunday's Power Run and then walked towards Nike Bonifacio High Street to register for a 5K slot in the Feb 22 RUNew race in McKinley Hill. (I haven't "tasted" McKinley Hill since UNICEF Walk on the Child's Side 2008, and I'm torn between anticipation and dread just thinking about the uphill portions. Haha.)

When I emerged from Nike, happily clutching all my race kits, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Coach Rio's Nike Running Training Clinic session that night was taking place right in front of the Nike High Street branch. Said a quick hello to Rio, who insisted I sign up for at least updates on the training clinic. And then I immediately checked to see if my friend Lara was there. Yup, she was right in front, doing warm-ups with the rest of the session participants. Mouthed a hello and goodbye to her before I left High Street. Wow, I really wish I could join the clinic. High Street would have been an ideal venue, but most of the sessions take place in ULTRA Pasig, which isn't convenient for me on week nights.

Next on the agenda was socks. Again.

If A had new socks, damn, I wanted new socks too (this is the brat in me talking). I've been wanting a pair of women's Nike Elite Running socks with footstrike cushioning for the longest time and now that I've recently acquired a Nike Women VIP card, I'm entitled to a 10% discount on all regular-priced Nike products--and a 20% discount on my birthday month! Hooray! I canNOT wait for June. =)

I really enjoy shopping for sportswear and gear, so buying running socks for myself is actually a real treat. So I went to my favorite Nike Women branch in Greenbelt 4 to get the socks (and resisted once more the urge to buy the pretty purple training jacket) and then window shopped at Bratpack and Columbia in Greenbelt 5 to see if they had any interesting sportswear.

By the time A and I had dinner, it was already 9:30 pm. We had a nice and filling dinner in Cibo. Despite our efforts to trim down, we couldn't resist having a 3-course meal: minestrone soup, tuna salad and a light seafood pasta each. The food in itself was healthy but we felt ridiculously stuffed by 10:30 pm and wanted the heavy feeling to go away. FAST. Well, there was only one recourse for us.


Saturday, Feb 14

At 12:41 am, we found ourselves running in Legaspi Park. Never mind that we were running at an ungodly hour. We just needed to burn the calories from that dinner. And we wanted to run, period.

A and I ran side by side at an easy pace for 30 minutes. I was so happy, I was bobbing my head to the beat of the music on my iPod. Because it was just a maintenance run, we didn't go over 30 minutes. I felt like I could do more than 30 but because the race was tomorrow, I didn't want to tire myself too much. So we stopped running at 1:11 am, and walked around the park twice to cool down.

In a way, it was the best Valentine's Day I've had in years. We don't normally celebrate Valentine's on the day itself because it's cheesy to do so, and you have to deal with the stress of eating dinner in a crowded restaurant. So I'm glad A and I were still able to avoid the whole V Day cheesiness factor and spend the weekend the way we really wanted to.

Enough writing at this point. Will need to rest as race day is tomorrow. Good luck to all Power Run participants!

Ran tonight with A in Legaspi Park. I was excited to run because I wanted to burn the calories gained from eating that yummy hot fudge sundae at my goddaughter Ashley's 1st birthday party this afternoon. Haha. Good thing I could only finish half of that evil, evil sundae.

I was able to run 31 minutes non-stop, and although I have no idea about my exact pace, I've estimated (conservatively) that I covered more than 4K.

This time, I didn't forget to bring my Belkin Sport Armband Plus. I use it sometimes when I do practice runs. It's actually pretty helpful, if you don't want your iPod touch bouncing inside your pocket. However, it looks better on men, to be honest, because it's just the right fit for them. When I put the sport armband on, it looks like some large, alien contraption that covers almost half of my arm.

Although it may look large, it's convenient and pretty weightless (Belkin comes up with the most amazing quality accessories) and helps me feel light on my feet. I just don't use it on race days since it's so attention-getting, and I don't want to look like some newbie runner with a lot of gadgets on her.

Anyway, on to other things. I just finished packing for my 4-day UNICEF site visit to Camarines Norte. I'm pretty psyched about this field mission, and I hope I get to pick up a lot of valuable insights and stories on our early childhood care and development (ECCD) programs. I intend to bring the office camera as well to do some photo documentation, although I wouldn't consider myself as a good photographer. I just literally point and shoot, period.

But aside from the mission proper, I hope to squeeze in a little running in the evenings while we're based in Daet. I have no idea if the small hotel we're staying in has a gym (and I wouldn't even expect them to have one at all), but I hope I'll be able to find a place there that's conducive to running.

The benefits of getting sick?

I get to lose weight. I am now at 93 pounds.

Which means I can binge more than the usual and have Yellow Cab pizza (with its oily, garlicky, buttery sauce) and chocolate this week. Because it's relatively easy for me to lose and gain a few pounds, I can afford to binge. I'm burning those extra calories anyway in my next workout. Don't think I'll ever have killer abs in the near future, but at least I get to have my precious snacks.

The downside to getting sick? (Aside from, well, getting sick.)

I am forced to stay home, chewing my nails in agitation, because of the haunting certainty that there's a ton of work to be done. I've been like this since Wednesday. Even checked my office mail while in bed with fever. Heck, I even wrote on this blog.

When I had to go on a forced one-month leave in 2007 for my ovarian cyst operation, I couldn't stop calling the office a week after the surgery, checking on the progress of my direct mail campaign.

So what if I'm a workaholic?

Just found out this morning that my site visit to Camarines Norte is pushing through this Monday to Thursday. Being the obsessive-compulsive, guilt-ridden person that I am, I couldn't simply stay at home (in spite of my weakened state) and let my officemate Tintin do all the travel arrangements in my behalf. So when I felt somewhat better, I ran out of the house at 5 pm and was in UNICEF in fifteen minutes. Worked--happily, I must say--until 10:30 pm.

I am a complete failure in the work-life balance department.