Fiesta Time in Vigan

Trip Start Nov 12, 2008
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Trip End Apr 30, 2009


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Flag of Philippines  , Luzon,
Monday, January 26, 2009

A quick stopover after Manila, we decided to travel North, quite far North in fact, to the historic town of Vigan.  Back on the buses, for some strange and unfathomable reason the company decided it was a good idea to drop you in the city at 4am, in god knows where.  Bleary eyed, thawing out from the baltic air conditioning on the red-eye express, we procured the services of a tricycle driver to take us to see guesthouses.  It was early, they were none too pleased about being woken up and their prices were exorbitant.  Eventually we found a cosy little place with just one catch.  Yes sir we have a room, yes the price is reasonable.  Yes you can have the room now, you look like you need the sleep.  And by the way, check out is at 10am.  This was not what we had intended, so the kindly receptionist stated if we wanted to wait until 8am, and check in then, we would get our room until the next day.  What the hell to do in a small backwater town at 5am in the morning? 
As luck would have it, by chance we had stumbled into the town's annual fiesta.  The trees were festooned in lights, and the place was decorated like a christmas tree.  Through our fug of tiredness, we came across a group of 50 or so townspeople doing aerobics in the town square to hard, pumping dance music, seemingly oblivious to whether this would wake the neighbours.  This was a spectacle we found hard to take in admittedly, and we walked the town as the sun rose.
This place is supposed to be the best preserved of the Philipines Spanish colonial towns.  It was a real sight, real old buildings, their plaster falling off to reveal the brickwork underneath, old gabled roofs, funny little alleyways and corridors, twee little wooden street furniture.  It was like something the Americans would build and place as a set in Universal Studios.
We spent our 2 days wandering these old streets, in between games of scrabble, and trying the local delicacies.  the fiesta brought everyone out in the evening, it seemed the whole town was there.  The stalls contained such local delicacies as the wonderful chicken intestines, and my personal favourite, Balot, a cooked egg with the chickling inside.  I tried the intestines, they tasted like what comes out the other side.  The line was drawn with the balot.
Finally all that was left was for me to provide the entertainment for the locals, who it quickly became apparent were built from slighlty more vertically challenged stock then that from whence I came.  As Raza accurately described my appearance to them, 'El Gigante' caused quite a stir, with seemingly everyone stopping to stare without hesitation.  Mothers scooped up their children for fear I may eat them, dogs howled at the moon and the Mayor said it was a sign from the heavens of a bad harvest.  Time to get out of here before they sacrifice me to their gods...
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