The Endless Journey of a Junk Van

It was around 9:00 in the morning. We were seated comfortably in the van, all seven of us, eager to start out on a journey to the heart of the Cordilleras. I was especially excited for this trek, partly because I had never been to Sagada yet and this was my long-awaited chance to go there, and partly to appease the wanderlust that had been recently crawling throughout my body, particularly in the sole of my feet, giving me the itch to go about seeing new places again. This journey would assuage that itch.

The European driver, who owns the car, turned the ignition key. Nothing happened. He repeated the process several times. The car wouldn't start. What's going on? He had just pulled out his van from the repair shop the other day and he paid Php.30,000. for the repair, but still, the van was dead as a stone. He got out of his driver's seat, called up the mechanic and went off to fetch him and check the car. The rest of us marched back to our house in frustration, unsure if we would push through with the trip or cancel. We waited while my wanderlust was beginning to pass out in conjunction with my growing disappointment.

The mechanic tried to fix the "newly-fixed" van again, and it took him until past two in the afternoon to get done with it. We all assembled back to the car and started out at 3:00 pm. My sinking excitement resurfaced, and I started to visualize the mountainous panorama along the way, though at the back of my mind, I doubted if I would see anything on our way there since it would be dark soon.