The mistake that led us to Busay Falls

On our second day in Albay, after the short trip up Mount Mayon for some serious photography, we drove to a town (municipality? barrio?) called Sabago for lunch. Our friend PJ was browsing through a coffee table book for sale at the Starship Cafe beside the Mayon Planetarium, went through the directory of hotels, resorts and restaurants at the back of the book and found a name that sounded interesting — Solamente, I think the name was.

We told the driver we wanted to go there and we reached the restaurant at half past noon. We placed our orders but we had to wait an hour for our food. What was there to do? Take photos, of course. Of one another, of the restaurant interior, and just about every interesting thing there was. Like the poster entitled “What is drunk?” which contained famous quotes about drunkenness.

Finally, the food arrived.

We had sinigang na baboy…

Nilasing na hipon…

Fried chicken, Bicol express, kangkong with oyster sauce, rice and about five gallons of water. Okay, five gallons is an exaggeration but you get the idea — it was a hot day.

We had two choices for our next destination. Tiwi Hot Springs and the famous halo-halo or a place called Bacacay Falls, the latter recommended by someone at Dhio Endheka. The driver said it would take an hour to get to Bacacay, two hours to Tiwi. We chose Bacacay. And a huge — HUGE — mistake that decision turned out to be.

We drove and drove and Sam noticed a sign that we passed, one that says “Busay Falls” and she pointed it out to me. I just nodded since we were supposed to go to Bacacay, not Busay, Falls. We entered a barangay where we had to pay a toll fee.

Whether we were paying corrupt barangay officials or NPA revolutionaries, I had no idea. What was certain was that we couldn’t get to our destination unless the darned toll fee was paid. Anyway, so we entered the barangay and, well, there were dill hedges so pretty I could almost forgive the toll fee.

Dill, you know, the herb. I use dill for cooking and almost every house in that place had hedges of dill. I don’t know whether the Albayanons use dill for cooking but if they do, I swear they have abundant supply all year ’round.

On and on we drove and I could glimpse the sea. And I started wondering if we would have to ride a boat to get to an islet somewhere to see the falls because I don’t know of any falls on the seashore. I mean, that’s geographically impossible.

If you look at the photo of Speedy and me in a previous entry, there’s a sea on the background. Well, the sea in the photo above is the same sea. We’ve traveled that far to view the falls that I had no idea where we’d find.

Finally, on our prodding, the driver started asking the locals for directions (the driver was a local so we were really amazed that he didn’t know where the falls was located). Then, the most astounding thing happened. The locals said there was no falls in Bacacay — only swimming pools. So the person that recommended the place meant Bacacay pols? And why should we be interested in swimming pols when we’re staying in a resort with a mountain spring pool?

It was hot, we were frustrated, we were desperate. We wasted a lot of time searching for the Bacacay pols. But there was the sign that said “Busay Falls” that Sam noticed earlier so I said why not go there instead? It wasn’t that far. And so we did. And I wished I had just kept my mouth shut.

We reached the entrance to the park/resort, paid the entrance fee, and started walking toward the falls. The pond at the bottom was small, there were a few picnic huts, but because it was vacation season, the place was crowded.

The guide suggested we go up to the highest point where there were less people. I looked at the falls, it didn’t look too high, so, okay. And we started going up — on steps carved from the mountain slope with no handrails. I was carrying a heavy bag with my cameras and the lens attached to the Canon EOS 40D was heavy.

Now, I’m not crazy about heights. But under normal circumstances, I do okay. After about two dozen steps, I looked up and I couldn’t see the end of the steps — they just went on and on. I told Speedy to walk ahead of me because I wasn’t sure how I’d manage. The steps were small and slippery and there was no handrail. A dozen more steps and I froze. I started feeling dizzy and I could feel myself starting to sway. I was thinking how in the world I’d go down on the way back. And right there and then I said I couldn’t do it. Sam and Alex, who had both hiked to the top of Mount Makulot, were snickering but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to risk a fall on those stones below. No freaking way. We turned back. And it turned out that our friends were just waiting for someone to be the first to say “Ayoko na.”

That photo of the falls above? What’s visible from the ground is less than two-fifths of the falls. I didn’t know it then but Busay Falls, in the barrio of Malilipot, is 91 meters at its highest point. We were supposed to climb 91 meters on small slippery steps with no handrails and go back the same way? I wanted photos but I wanted photos of the falls — of water falling — not the top of the falls. So we went down — and, hell, that was torture — and walked toward the huts where all the sane people were — the people who knew better than to listen to the guides.

We already knew we wouldn’t stay long. Our friends wanted to take some photos so they crossed over to the other side of the pond.

See the stone steps? Of course, I didn’t join them. But if you notice the crib… well, some people are brave enough to carry a wooden crib over those slippery stones. Unbelievable, really. Totally jaw dropping. That’s why I took a photo. If I told you about the crib, you probably wouldn’t believe me.

So, we left Busay Falls. At the parking lot, I was perspiring so badly and I thought I could have been enjoying a tall glass of halo-halo in Tiwi had we made the right choice after lunch. What else did we do that day? We drove back to Tabaco City and went directly to the flea market beside the city hall. That was where I went pili nut crazy.

But there was a lot more in that flea market aside from the pili nut delicacies. There was the iconic abaca slippers…

Native bags that were really beautiful…

And colorful hats…

I only bought pili nut candies, no slippers, bags or hats which I didn’t really need.

The following day, it was the Cagsaua ruins and the Albay Park and Wildlife, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.