where time stood still
Vigan was one of the first few towns I visited during the genesis of my traveling advocacy. I can’t deny the fact that it was also one of the places that sparked my interest to see the world.
I was 20 years old when I first walked the cobbled stone streets of Crisologo. Back then, I felt like I was walking the streets of Italy. It even inspired me to sit along the pavement and start writing random poems and sketch the plethora of antique items on sale along the UNESCO heritage site.
We left manila at 3 PM, we reached Vigan around 1 AM, not a pretty good idea. Majority of establishments shuts off at around 9 PM. We could have just left at midnight and slept in the bus. So it was wee hours in the morning and we didn’t want to waste our time snoozing, waiting for the morning light. We bought a bottle of booze and drank in our hotel until the sun rose.
Sleepless and obviously attenuated by the alcohol in my head, I decided to walk aimlessly on the streets of Vigan with my hand ready to press the shutter.
I opted walking on my own while waiting for the break of dawn. It was cold and quiet. Perfect time to think, and try to look back to the years when I was young innocent, naive and unsure of what lies ahead of me. It’s been almost a decade. I couldn’t help but chuckle and smile a bit.
The sun kissed my cheeks and the street came to life.
My life has been moving really fast, the last couple of years came and went in a break-neck speed. Time is taking a toll on my body. If only I can freeze time, like what happened to this small town. If only…