Friday, November 28, 2025
The Aurora Music Festival had been on my bucket list for the longest time. The promise of starry skies, glowing hot air balloons, and a lineup of my favorite OPM bands felt like the perfect way to cap off my birthday month. Well, it didn’t quite turn out that way—but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. A little mud and mayhem is exactly what great concert memories are made of. Just ask any veteran Gen-X concertgoer.
November’s fickle weather had other plans. The festive night I imagined quickly transformed into a muddy, almost-Woodstock-like spectacle that was truly one for the books. By the time I dragged my mud-soaked shoes and hungry, tired, sleep-deprived self out of the CDM Event Grounds near midnight, torrential rains threatened to turn the place into one giant carabao puddle. My tiny folding umbrella was no match. And there was no way the hotel would let me in with shoes that looked like they survived a rice field harvest. So I surrendered. I headed back to my room on the 18th floor and watched the rest of the show from my window—though a telescope definitely would’ve helped.
Strong winds. Lashing rains. Mist swirling like smoke. The entire venue seemed to vibrate as Rico Blanco’s defiant voice pierced through the storm: “Umaaraw, umuulan, ang buhay ay parang ganyan.” Even from my cozy room, goosebumps rose all over. Ah, if only I were 20-something again—still foolish enough to brave the downpour. Petulant youth, you are blessed.
One of the highlights of my weekend wasn’t just the music—it was being unexpectedly upgraded from Fili Hotel to Nustar Hotel. A bathtub with a sweeping view of the bay and fancy French toiletries were enough to revive my worn-out city soul. They even had one of those high-tech Japanese toilets with a warmed seat and ambient glow. For a moment, I was back in Japan. Banzai!
Because of our early flight, we spent the morning exploring SM Seaside Cebu—a circular retail wonderland. First stop: Flying Tiger Copenhagen (finally, something Iloilo doesn’t have). I ended up with a Nordic Christmas décor haul and then picked up shoe covers, and a spare umbrella just in case the skies threw another tantrum. Cebu’s post-flooding worries still lingered in the back of my mind.
Honestly, my mall-rat self wanted to stay longer, but my two-hour-sleep “Tita body” was wobbling around like an exhausted wind-up toy. I was happy enough with my Flying Tiger finds and decided it was best to rest before the concert.
As expected, the crowd was dominated by energetic 20-somethings with a sprinkling of 40-somethings whose default bedtime is, well, 11 PM. The vibe was youthful and infectious. Earl Agustin was a revelation—smooth vocals even with a temperamental sound system. Maki wasn’t the strongest live performer for me, but he was undeniably charming and knew how to hype a crowd. Ben & Ben? Always excellent. Always consistent. Always magic.
My beloved Cup of Joe, though, had a rough start—tired eyes, jet lag, and technical mishaps with their IEMs. I’m expecting a better showing when they bring their Stardust Tour to Iloilo next year. I sadly missed Rico Blanco and SB19 live, but even from 18 floors up, you could feel their energy electrify the stormy night.
Of course, I have a few suggestions for the next Aurora Music Fest. First: please hold it during the summer. The hot air balloons—the festival’s signature charm—never even made an appearance. The food kiosks would’ve been more convenient outside the gates; I spent almost an hour in line for Korean snacks (essentially pastries) while Maki serenaded everyone. Many performers struggled with technical issues, and the sound system was noticeably weak for those farther back.
Eventually, the rain forced me to leave in the middle of Cup of Joe’s set, just as “Multo”—their chart-topping anthem—lit up the night with fireworks. That was my unexpected finale. And despite my list of complaints, I still walked away happy.
Aurora Music Fest Cebu may have been my first and last outdoor concert experience—I’ve accepted that I’m now an indoor-arena girl—but it was unforgettable in all the ways that matter.
I woke up at 9 AM the next day—too late for a morning dip at the pool, since breakfast was already being served. But any concert hangover vanished the moment we stepped into the private Executive Lounge on the 23rd floor for an exclusive breakfast buffet. With panoramic views of the ocean unfolding beneath us, even my groggy self felt instantly revived. I savored every minute of my stay at Nustar Hotel. Truly superb.
After checking out, we asked our taxi driver to bring us to the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño for the 1 PM Cebuano Mass. We also requested the scenic route via the Cebu–Cordova Link Expressway (CCLEX), because why not make the most of the day? In true tourist fashion, we managed to cross all three of Cebu’s major bridges before heading to the heritage district.
The afternoon heat was unusually intense, so we wandered into Plaza Independencia for a breather. Just beside it stood the historic Fort San Pedro and the National Museum of the Philippines–Cebu, where we spent a relaxed half hour soaking in the exhibits and escaping the sun’s glare.
From there, we made our way to Ayala Center Cebu for a bit of sightseeing and an early dinner before heading to the airport for our late flight home.
Overall, Cebu was awesome. Daghang Salamat, Cebu. Till next time!
Tuesday, November 11, 2025
One of the coziest outdoor café experiences I’ve had lately was at Banglid Café, the little roadside coffee nook of Banglid Dos, a homey vacation rental in Brgy. Aningalan, San Remigio, Antique. Its name comes from the Hiligaynon word banglid, meaning slope or incline—quite fitting for a café perched on a mountainside with views that instantly calm the soul. From its vantage point, you can sip your coffee while watching low-lying clouds quietly glide over the lush landscape below.
The café’s warm, cabin-style interior makes you feel welcome the moment you step in. Whether you choose a seat outdoors with the fresh mountain breeze or settle into the cozy indoor space, it’s the kind of place that invites you to slow down and truly be present. With every cup, nature seems to whisper,
I chose a comforting matcha drink and sat watching the light fade into dusk. As the clouds turned into silhouettes against the darkening sky, I felt a peaceful stillness come over me. No mobile signal. No rush. Just me, the mountains, and my thoughts—my little moment of matcha meditation.
Wednesday, November 5, 2025
Just like that, November is here again — my birthday month. This year feels more meaningful because I turned 50 over the weekend. Half a century. A milestone that once sounded intimidating, but now feels grounding, liberating, and surprisingly light.
In past birthdays, I would pack my bags, book a flight, and spend the weekend exploring somewhere new. I used to crave movement, escape, and stimulation — as if the only way to “celebrate” was to go somewhere far. But this year, I wanted something different. Softer. Quieter. More intentional.
So, instead of chasing a trip, I chose a staycation — not out of laziness, but out of a newfound appreciation for rest as celebration.
Why Stay — and Not Run?
Turning 50 shifts something inside you. You start valuing energy differently. You begin filtering what deserves your presence and what no longer needs your urgency. The idea of skipping airport stress, packing logistics, and the guilt of leaving my cats for days felt… right.
There is comfort in staying close to home yet seeing your city with a fresh set of eyes — noticing the details you once ignored because life was moving too fast. Maybe I had been too jaded to appreciate the gentle quirks of this southern city, a place I often take for granted simply because it is familiar.
The Space to Breathe
I booked a night at the newly opened Sam’s 21 Hotel along Benigno Aquino Highway. Clean, modern, aesthetically pleasing — the kind of space that doesn’t overwhelm but invites you to exhale. From my window, I could see the street slowly shifting into Christmas mode with oversized parols hung on every lamp post. Soon, this whole stretch will glow with festive lights, a reminder that joy is seasonal, but also cyclical — it returns when you make space for it.
Inside the room was comfort in its purest form: a plush bed, warm lighting, silence that felt like a gift. I ate my takeaway dinner slowly, journaled with intention, played soft chords on my travel guitar, and laughed at AI cat videos (Ginger's Diary and Black Cat Jiji's Restaurant). The smallest pleasures expanded because there was finally room for them to breathe.
Sometimes, joy is not loud — it’s gentle and quiet, asking for nothing but your presence.
Reclaiming the City at Night
That evening, I walked to the nearby mall to buy pastries, dinner, and a small birthday gift for myself — a wireless Miniso keyboard (practicality is the love language of women at 50).
What surprised me was how the walk felt different. Under the soft glow of the street lamps, I noticed joggers, cyclists, and strangers moving through their own evening rituals. I realized how walkable this part of Iloilo is — something I never appreciated because I was always in a rush.
There’s a certain romance in rediscovering your own city — not as a resident, but as an observer, almost like dating it again after years of co-existing.
Morning Light, Coffee, and New Energy
The next morning, sunlight streamed into the room like a warm invitation to start anew. I walked to the River Esplanade — one of the city’s best spots for reflection — and watched fishermen catching tilapia from the river’s thriving ecosystem. It was ordinary, almost mundane, yet grounding in a way that felt poetic.
Breakfast at Drip Café was simple. The tapa was average, but the Flat White was excellent — and as shallow as it sounds, sometimes a good cup of coffee is enough to shift the day for the better.
The Substance of This Staycation
It wasn’t a grand trip. No passport stamps. No bucket-list adventures.
But it gave me:
• space to think
• quiet to listen to myself
• comfort without effort
• presence without distraction
At 50, celebration takes on a new meaning. It becomes less about the more and more about the meaning. You stop chasing what looks good on photos and choose what feels good in the soul.
Fifty: A New Kind of Free
I left the hotel feeling lighter — not because I escaped life, but because I paused long enough to return to it with clarity. If this is what 50 feels like — intentional, peaceful, and deeply rooted — then I welcome the decade ahead with open arms.
Happy birthday to me.
Here’s to choosing softness, slowness, and the kind of life that feels like a deep breath.
Friday, October 31, 2025
A short hike to the Aningalan Highland Strawberry Garden in San Remigio, Antique rewards you with a hidden gem perched 869 meters above sea level —Highlands Coffee Bar. Rustic and homey, this secret café is the perfect spot to bask in sweeping mountain views and stroll through a flower garden that feels straight out of a cottage-core daydream.
Drop by at around 3 PM, when the clouds begin to roll in and wrap the garden in a pearly mist. Clouds in your coffee?Absolutely — and it’s magical.
The café offers a simple menu of hot and iced coffee creations, along with a small selection of pastries. But truly, coffee in hand while the cool mountain breeze gently kisses your face is the kind of core memory you’ll treasure long after returning to the city.
I can’t wait to return and catch the sunset here when strawberry season blooms again in February. Until then, I’ll keep my head in the clouds.
Saturday, October 25, 2025
For someone like me, a jaded urban dweller constantly caught between work emails and home responsibilities, being off the grid for a few days felt like a rare luxury — a quiet kind of healing for the soul. Even if my trip to the hinterlands of San Remigio, Antique, was technically work-related, it became so much more than that.
The noise of city life, the endless commutes, and the draining routine of office days can wear you down without you even realizing it. Sometimes, all we really need is a breath of mountain air — an escape that feels like washing the spirit clean.
San Remigio, known as the Summer Capital of Antique, reminds me of a gentler, humbler Baguio. Its highlands, especially the barangays of Aningalan, unfold like hidden worlds waiting to be discovered — full of quiet corners and breathtaking views.
Walking through rolling hills and valleys covered in rain-fed greenery, I found myself slowly unclenching from the tension of daily life. The cool breezes, the soft drizzle at night, and the mist that greets you each morning — they have a way of calming even the most restless mind.
To unplug, to simply exist in the quiet company of misty mountains — that was exactly what my soul needed. Thank you, dear mountains, for the peace and perspective. Until next time.
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