"ARE WE THERE YET? AREN'T WE GETTING OFF?" P asked impatiently as the bus gently swerved to the left and made a graceful halt in the middle of a small terminal in Maria Aurora, a town in Aurora province, a few miles north of Manila. A couple of passengers hurriedly got off the bus, carrying their stuff - big boxes and sacks of goods, probably pasalubong for their loved ones who were happily expecting for their arrival.
It's almost five in the afternoon. We had been traveling for ten hours. The aggressive twists and bends on the road from Nueva Vizcaya to Aurora had taken its toll on us. We were already feeling queasy, not to mention tired and hungry.
"Nope, one more town to go before the final homestretch," I told P as if I knew this part of Aurora like the back of my hand. I too was dying to get off the bus. Truth was, I was merely guessing. An educated guess which turned out to be correct because the next town was indeed Baler.
It's almost five in the afternoon. We had been traveling for ten hours. The aggressive twists and bends on the road from Nueva Vizcaya to Aurora had taken its toll on us. We were already feeling queasy, not to mention tired and hungry.
 |
| Almost there... |
"Nope, one more town to go before the final homestretch," I told P as if I knew this part of Aurora like the back of my hand. I too was dying to get off the bus. Truth was, I was merely guessing. An educated guess which turned out to be correct because the next town was indeed Baler.
