Marco and I barely make it to the Basco Port at 5:00 a.m. The first boat to Itbayat Island is scheduled to leave at 6:00 and we must be listed at the manifest an hour before. Marco mentioned Itbayat yesterday when we were at the hometel lobby. We didn't make any initial plans for this, that's why we decided to come early to get tickets. We're fortunate that there are only a few tourists who are on this early trip. It's because it's still dark at sea. Since the weather in Batanes is unpredictable, we are reminded that our trip might be delayed or cancelled anytime. Marco is happy though when our trip pushes through.
This is my first time to do something adventurous—and by that I mean taking a 4-hour boat ride to an inhabited island, battling strong winds and ferocious waves. Every time huge waves look like they're going to gobble us up, I reach for Marco's hand. He doesn't let go and even wraps his arm around me. We might look like a couple to the people around us, but that's the least of my care. I am more concerned with my life.
Itbayat is believed to be an uplifted coral reef, thus it has no shoreline or beach. When the Chinapoliran port is already visible, I am relieved. Surviving the gigantic waves feels great. My initial reaction is to hug Marco out of sheer happiness. If he's surprised, I really can't tell.
"Take it easy, young lady," He jokes. Okay, so that hug doesn't go unnoticed.
"Whatever," I roll my eyes, awkwardly disentangling myself from him. Once the boat has docked, I stand up to disembark, when suddenly Marco grabs my hand.
"Wait," He whispers, and my shocked expression has given way to his cute smile. "I'll go first so I can assist you."
True enough, getting off the boat is not easy. Passengers must jump to a concrete landing, which is difficult because the boat swings. Once we're off the boat, we have to climb a flight of steps to a cemented road. There Marco approaches a tricycle driver who will take us to the town proper, which as I heard, is two kilometers away from the port.
The town consists of a municipal hall, a church, a large plaza and a basketball court (which surprised Marco). Kids are playing, while the old locals are at the church. Others are busy with their main livelihood which is farming. There are small patches of farmlands beside stone houses. The locals love to smile. Every time we pass by, they nod and greet us. We have a stopover first to eat and to take pictures.
While Marco is talking to a local farmer, I find myself staring at him. He's a natural. He has this amicable persona that would make people connect to him. It's an added plus that he's a looker. He's just wearing a plain white shirt and khaki shorts, but he looks like he's going to conquer the runway with his outfit. Before I can pull my eyes away, he catches me gazing at him.
"Miss me?" He jokes. The people surrounding him start to tease us.
Is that warmth pooling my belly? Gulp.
"In your dreams," I roll my eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the sudden magnetism I am feeling towards him. I explain that we're not a thing but the locals won't believe me. Marco approaches me and asks me to just go along.
After taking a rest, we bid goodbye to the local people who are so welcoming and helpful. We, together with one local who has agreed to be our guide, walk back to the tricycle that's waiting to take us to our main destination.
Torongan cave is one massive cave. It's believed to be an ancient dwelling of ancient people. The entrance to the cave is reachable by a one hour hike. The guide leads the way, with us in tow. Marco holds my hand because, as he said, he needs to support me. I just let him because balancing is not my greatest strength.
Getting to the cave takes so much effort, but we are rewarded with a pleasant temperature. At the end of the cave, there's an opening which looks out to the sea.
From the cave, we hike to the top of Torongan Hills. We come across old burial markers, which our guide says to be the entombment of the ancient settlers who lived in the cave. When we reach the top of the hill, we are enchanted by the view of the surrounding inhabited islands. All the steep paths and rough roads we have to go through just to get here are worth it.
Marco lets my hand go as he sits on the grass. He pata the space beside him, asking me to sit. I heed his request because my legs are already tired from hiking. I have to restore my energy to survive the trek down the hill.
"It feels good, right?" He gives me a nudge, while flashing me his award-winning megawatt smile, if there's such a thing.
"Yeah," My breathing is ragged. I tell him it's my first time to hike so my body is still not used to it.
"Are you serious?" He stretches his legs out, his right foot touching my left. Marco then shoots me a look of disbelief. "Tell me, how many firsts have you yet to try?"
"Uh," I pause. Marco has raised a valid question. There are still many firsts I have yet to try or experience in life.
All of a sudden, realization hits me and I burst into tears. I have a feeling Marco will be weirded out, but he wraps his arm around me. He lets me cry on his shoulder, not minding if I am damping his white shirt.
"It sucks that I'm already twenty-six, and I have yet to experience life at its fullest," I admit.
Quarter life crisis is being a bitch.
"It's not yet late to live the life you want," He tells me. He pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to me. I wipe my eyes with it.
"If you want to hike, go hike. If you want to travel, then travel. If you want to try new things, then do it." He pulls back as he runs circles on my back. "Don't let anyone stop you from gaining experiences that will help shape you as a person."
I stare at him, eyes and nose red from crying.
"Before I thought what matters in life is to find a job then save money," He continues, wiping the tears off my cheek. "But later on, I realized that we should live to work and not the other way around."
While hearing this from him, I remember Modern Mr. Darcy. I tell Marco about him and his newspaper editorial which has been the start of my quarter life change. I know he's a stranger, but that's the good thing. What's the possibility of ever seeing him again after this? I need a sounding board, and he's the closest available option.
"I wish I had the chance to read it," Marco whispers, giving me a look I can't make sense of. He suddenly turns his back to me, letting silence fall between us.
By 11:40 a.m., we return to the port. The boat is scheduled to leave in forty minutes, so we decide to have our snack while waiting. Marco is back to his playful and extra self. He volunteers to carry my bag and offers me the chocolate from his backpack. He takes my hand with his, so we look like a newly-wed couple holding hands.
The entire time, my attention is in our joined hands. There are moments he's letting my hand go, but after a few minutes, he will lace his fingers with mine.
I have no idea how it started, but the whole time we're on the boat, Marco's arms are wrapped around me. What's even weirder is I just let him.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Chance
Chick-LitAya is miserable at her job. She's thinking of quitting, but can't seem to realize the idea, until she comes across a newspaper editorial telling her exactly to do just that. She knows the editorial is not written for her, but it sounds like it is w...
