We're celebrating D.'s birthday and our anniversary. We're up in Tagaytay/Nasugbu again, just as we were fourteen years ago. This time with our two children, now 6 and 12. D. says this might be the last vacation when the four of us would fit in a king size bed.
Many of the roads have changed, widened, but ultimately losing that
quiet charm. The Silang area and the new highway wouldn't make you
feel like you're ascending a mountain. The traffic was so terrible, you
would have thought you're on your way to a mall sale.
When D. told I., "We're going to a hotel." He responded with "How many stars?" The moment we alighted, Tagaytay's cold and crisp air brushed our skin. Even the hotel's heated pool didn't feel warm enough. V. says, "this hotel is like a castle." She also reassures the friend she was talking to on messenger, that the volcano, a terrific view from our room, wasn't going erupt. On the drive here, Kuya I. wants to be the one to play music. Thankfully, he picked a lot of Chopin, along with his Sonic themes.
There are a few things here that never fail to fascinate me. Taal Volcano, and on the other side you can see Mt. Batulao from Alfonso and Nasugbu.
After a ramen and bulalo fusion, ebi tempura, sushi rolls (and local craft beer on tap), we head back to the hotel.
They're all asleep now and I'm starting into the night. This fog has a magical effect. It rolls in and diffuses hotel room lights, the streetlights, the headlights of cars passing through the highway like emitted diodes. The fog subdues everything. Now the night seems even quieter, except for the repetitive trilling and chirping of crickets. We're up in the mountains after all, no matter how much concrete the hotels pour in. The volcano is submerged in a lake as though they cherishing an intimate relationship. Tonight, in her birthday, and in our anniversary, they sleep with us.
The fog stayed on until the morning, and with my family I feel like I woke up in a bed of clouds. 7k on the hotel treadmill. V. is singing "A Million Dreams" on the terrace. We drive up to the restaurants for breakfast. My first impression was that the coffee was overpriced, but I misjudged it. The house blend still had some of that crema, its freshness warmly smoothed down. Sipping this while sitting down with the four us, watching the rain and fog on the lake and the mountain. Pancakes, apple pie, bangus and tocino. Early in the morning, despite this enveloping fog, in the endearing simplicity of all of this, one can see things clearly. Fourteen years. How we imagined ourselves fourteen years ago, and infinitely more.