surviving batad

April 4 was the most physically taxing day of this vacation. The day before, we had made arrangements with the porter to be our guide for the day. We started out after breakfast at around 8:15-8:30am. The first order of the day was to go down to the village. These are pictures of the village taken from the inn.




We took the path from our inn and were soon walking along the walls of the rice terraces. We had quite a lot of stuff with us--our backpack with our change of clothes, a pot of rice, a tupperware of marinated chicken (for lunch), and plates, etc. Fortunately, the porter/guide carried most of our stuff. That was just as well because I had a hard enough time trying to walk with the walking stick. It didn't make it easier for me walk along the terraces or to go up and down the steps at all. As I don't have very good balance and we were often walking on narrow walkways, I had to look down to see where I was going. But as I'm afraid of heights, it wasn't easy having to looking down. So I walked closer to the paddy on the same height as the wall so that, if I fell, it would only be a few inches instead of a few feet.



We went down to the village, but we actually didn't look around. We rested, while our guide got a screen for our barbecuing and an itak (bolo knife). When I remembered at the end of the day and asked why we didn't really look around, the guide said that we were supposed to see the weaver, but she wasn't there. Plus, he saw that we were progressing slowly, and we needed to move on if we wanted to get to the waterfalls, our final destination.

So, we had to go back up the mountain, then down again to get to Tappiah Falls. We got there around 10:30. When we got there, our guide quickly proceeded to collect firewood to make into charcoal to use for barbecuing. After resting a while and taking in the scenery, we got into the cold water. We actually couldn't go close to the waterfalls, as the water is deep, and we can't swim. We sat around in the water and talked to a couple of people.

We got out of the water when we thought the chicken was ready. It wasn't quite ready so we watched while it was being grilled. That gave us time to dry up a little before we ate. It was a good picnic.

After lunch, we got back in the water before finally changing into our dry clothes. We just relaxed after that while waiting for our clothes to dry and for the sun to be on the other side of the mountain.



Throughout our time at the falls, we watched people. We saw:

• foreigners soaking in the sun--some in their undies--on the rocks. They soon left after we got there
  
• local boys/teens spearing tiny fishes. The fishes were so tiny (the size of anchovies) that they could have hardly been worth the effort. But I guess it was fun for them. And they later grilled these.
  
• an elderly woman (with, perhaps, her son or grandson) carrying sacks down from the mountain. These contained drinks which they put in the river to cool. Can you imagine bringing those drinks up and down the mountain day in and day out? The boy quickly joined the other local kids, while the woman watched the drinks.
  
• a tourist shampooing his hair (twice) after soaking in the water (that's him in the picture). We thought that was funny.
  
• a woman puffing away at her cigarettes even though she could barely make it down to the falls (we had passed by her resting on the steps on the way down)
  
• a number of groups who came down, swam a little, then left
  
• a huge group of people (including old people) who just came down, took a couple of pictures, and went back up. People often do Batad as a day trip, and I suppose that's what they were doing. I think they're crazy!
  

When it was finally time for us to go, I thought all our rest would help us a little. Boy, was I wrong! I had barely gotten up a few steps, and I was already out of breath. It was hard going up, and I had to stop every so often to catch my breath. I was literally crawling up the high steps. By the time we got up all the steps (at the point where we could see the terraces), I was ready to cry. (Apparently, I'm not the only one who's felt that way. Others have actually cried at that stopping point.)

It was actually an easier way back because we didn't have to go up and down the village. From the stopping point, we just had to walk across and up the terraces. But that didn't mean it was easier. We were tired, and the terraces were higher up (again, fear of heights). It took us about 2 hours to get back to the inn, and we were never so happy to see it.