STREET FOOD: PART 1

While we're on the subject of home-cooking, I felt inspired to write about two of our favorite roadside eateries. =)

The first one, I've heard about long before the Hubby and I actually met. Over the years, I have heard numerous officemates rave about the bulalo in Sosing's. On our way to the Rizal Coliseum to watch the Philippine leg of the Davis Cup one weekend (yes, the Hubby is a tennis-player-and-wakeboarder-rolled-into-one), Hubby Sweet decided to take the sidestreets of Makati, instead of going through the major thoroughfares. It's going to be faster that way, he said. So there I was just looking absent-mindedly out the window when I saw the sign and something in my mind clicked. I think I almost gave the Hubby a heart attack when I shrieked. Haha! 'D He apparently knew of Sosing's (and has eaten there before) so he did not quite share my level of absolute delight at finally seeing that this "urban legend" of roadside eateries actually exists. Hahaha! 'D


It being a Saturday, the place was devoid of the white-collared office workers whom--I have been told--actually choose to eat there (dust and all) in their crisp, long-sleeved shirts and ties. On weekends, I suppose, Sosing's converts into a one-stop shop for ulam for the neighbors. Haha. Occasionally, we'd find some politician mixing it up with the hoi poloi. (I couldn't blame them. I will give them the benefit of the doubt that they really go there for the food. =)) Always, ALWAYS (!), however, we'd arrive to find the place packed.


When you get to Sosing's, go straight to the "counter". There, at least 10 different kawalis will be laid out containing a variety of dishes. Menudo, adobo, caldereta, sinigang, bicol express.....etc., etc., etc. There would always be a good mix of beef, pork, chicken and seafood viands to choose from. Regardless of what you order, you can always ask for a free bowl of their famous nilaga. Soup nga lang, no meat, if you want it free. You order at the counter and try and secure the first available space you can find. Haha! At Sosing's, be prepared to always "share a table". =) Secure in your space, you may simply wait for the "waiters" (more houseboys, really) to serve your orders in mismatched plates, along with a serving of rice and the drink of your choice (which they usually buy from the nearby sarisari store). =)


The first time we went, I, of course, had to go for the famous bulalo. Sosing's version is actually quite flavorful. The soup is surprisingly quite peppery. The meat was very tender. It was the kind that falls apart before you can even seriously tear it apart with your spoon and fork. Haha! 'D It's actually good.......but.....well.......the thing is, Hubby Sweet makes a mean nilagang baka. And when I say mean, I mean it's sooooooooo good, you wouldn't mind having it over and over lunch and dinner for a week!


The Hubby's version is rich and flavorful with a "clean" beefy note permeating through the soup, the veggies and the meat. It's everywhere in the dish--as opposed to the flavor being confined only to the meat or the soup. He tells me the secret to the rich but clean note is that he first makes sankutsa ginger to get rid of the lansa of the beef before he pressure-cooks everything to practical "beef melting point". =) Yum! ^_^ So, there! While Sosing's Bulalo is not bad, the Hubby's version of nilagang baka beats it hands-down. =)




Still, Sosing's is good for satisfying our cravings when we want something simple. Their menudo is good (but the Hubby's is better). Their adobo is great (but I still prefer Mother's). Their Bicol Express is decent....but....the thing is, I make a mean Bicol Express. It's the one dish I can do well. (Granted, I don't make it often, Haha!) So there. =) Still, Sosing's satisfies our need for something quick and something uncomplicated--especially for particular Saturdays packed with a million things-to-do. =)


Oh, but the last time we went to Sosing's, the Hubby and I did discover something worth raving about. Haha. With the onslaught of summer, the owner deemed it wise to put up a halo-halo stand. May dessert na sa Sosings! Haha! 'D Of course, diets be damned, we just had to try it. (Good grief, how on earth am I going to lose weight?! Hay! =P)


Sosing's halo-halo is a treasure chest of traditional Filipino "minatamis na...". Minatamis na saging. Minatamis na beans. Minatamis na langka. Minatamis na ube. Minatamis na sago....HAHAHA! 'D All topped with crushed ice, milk and generous slivers of leche flan. Yum! ^_^ I think I like this one better than the highly overpriced Razon's (I mean, P70 for macapuno and saging? Come on!) and even my beloved Chowking halo-halo. I like it because it is simple and uncomplicated, but very, very flavorful! ^_^ Oh, did I also mention that at P18.00, it was also relatively cheap? Haha. =)

Hubby Sweet and I had to laugh though when I started mixing it because it all of a sudden turned into this weird shade of ORANGE. Hahaha! 'D We weren't sure if it's because of the orange pinipig or the orange gulaman. We didn't care. Haha! To this day, I still dream about it. Yum! ^_^

If you don't mind eating by the roadside, if you don't mind the dust and heat (I personally cannot imagine myself eating there in office clothes), if you don't mind eating next to a fully operational vulcanizing shop (haha, yes, it IS next to a vulcanizing shop), go for Sosing's! =)


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From Buendia, turn right on Dian and just go straight until you hit Zobel Roxas. Sosing's is actually at the intersection. Right side. I suggest you either go by 11:30 or delay lunch to around 12:30. It'll increase your chances of finding street parking. If you can't find streetparking, try negotiating with the gasoline boys at the nearby Caltex station. P20.00 usually works. ;P.


J.T. Manukan next! =)

FINE DINING IN MARINDUQUE

This is the last in this particular series. I had wanted to write about the butterfly farms, but for the life of me, I cannot seem to find my pics! Augh. Oh, well. Let that part be your pleasant surprise--if or when you ever find yourself on the island.

On to the main course! =) The more I think about it, the more I realize that Marinduque is not really known for any signature food. Cebu has its lechon, danggit and dried mangoes. Palawan has its cashews. Cagayan de Oro has its pineapples, Iligan peanuts and Monk's Blend coffee (which is grown and roasted in the Benedictine monastery in Malaybalay Bukidnon). The closest thing I ever got to finding a "signature pasalubong" from the island is when I brought home "Arrow Root Cookies" (that's uraro for the uninformed, haha!) that are supposedly Marinduque's specialty. See, I'm ignorant this way. I thought uraro cookies are grown, baked and sold only along the highways of Tagaytay! Hahaha! 'D

Which is not to say looking for a decent place to eat in the island is challenging. It is actually quite easy if you don't expect to find any of the posh restaurants of Manila. Marinduque is about home-cooking. HOME COOKING in big, bold letters. Home-cooking as in the traditional way. =)

I grew up watching Noni (my fave grandmother) cook the day's viands in her outdoor kitchen. She had a gas range, but it was only used to reheat food (I suppose the gas range is the 70's equivalent of the microwave, haha!). For cooking, she must cook in the makeshift kitchen right outside the kitchen door. There, she would lay down dried wood in an improvised kiln, making sure that they are arranged in a way that would allow air to flow through each piece of log. She would then crumple pieces of yesterday's newspaper and light them with a match before throwing them into the kiln. (When I was a kid, I had visions of the Olympic torch being lit everytime Noni did this. Haha! 'D) Once the fire gets going, she then sets this gigantic wok (they call it kawa) on which the day's viands are cooked. Not exactly environment-friendly, but I'm sure no one will dispute that the entire thing makes for a particularly rich and textured set of childhood memories. =)

One of the Hubby's and my favorite things to do on the island (which also says a lot about how laid back it is, haha) is to get in the car and drive around in search of the next best pancit. Hahaha!!! 'D If there's one thing I will suggest you try in Marinduque, it is their pancit. They make the noodles themselves, and I can honestly say that in all the places we have ever been to on the island, the pancit is the ONE thing that has yet to disappoint us. Hahaha! The pancit in Marinduque is quite simple and uncomplicated with very few "additions" (usually just sayote and a few slivers of liver or pork). It's a bit "soupy" which I like because the taste of the sauce seems to further enhance the rich egg taste of the noodles. The best (to-date) is the one in Laylay which we only chanced upon because we happened to stop by a tricycle stop to ask where we can buy pancit, and all the folks pointed to an old house. Here, the pancit is cooked the traditional way. In a kawa set on a pugon. The first time I watched Manong cook our pancit, I felt a tug at my heartstrings. I remembered Noni and realized just how much I miss her. Yes, years later. STILL. =(

Over Christmas, we found out that one of the enterprising neighbors set-up a BBQ stand next to the entrance of our favorite pansitan. Perfect! Haha! We were with Mama E and Mama Yemy then and ended up ordering 6 orders of pancit and I think more than 10 sticks of BBQ plus softdrinks (in 8oz bottles, how quaint, haha!). Total bill: P180.00!!! Now, that's good (no, great!) value for money. Haha! =)

Long before Manila went agog over Pan de Manila and its pugon-baked pan de sals, wood-fired ovens has been the only way bread is baked on the island. I suppose it said a lot when the Hubby was not too impressed with Pan de Manila the first time he tried it. I suppose, he was hoping to taste "a bit of Marinduque bread", but it obviously fell short. Which is why whenever we're in Marinduque, we would inevitably find ourselves in Solomon's Bakery for our fix of Hopiang Gayat, Pinag-ong (because of its turtle shape) and Monay na Matigas. Hahaha!!! Freshly-baked stocks are usually available beginning 4:00 p.m. (I suppose, the entire morning is spent baking pan de sal. =)) When I say freshly-baked, I mean freshly-baked as in warm and cozy with the comforting goodness of wood smoke evident in every bite. Yum! Each pack of 10-12 pieces costs P10.00. Yey! Hahaha! 'D






























Still, there IS one place in Marinduque that is acknowledged as "the restaurant" to go to for special occasions. Barbarossa is owned by a local with a foreigner husband (I'm thinking Austrian, based on the photos on the wall and the interior decoration =)). It serves pasta and pizza (also baked in a wood-fired oven) and is probably the only place on the island where one can get a decent serving of Hungarian Sausages, Kielbasa and Bratwurst. =) I've always heard about the place, but it was only last Christmas that I got to go with the Hubby--with Cousin Dooders and Special Girl MJ in tow. May I say that I was impressed! Everything was good. Real, authentic good! Yum! ^_^ Total bill came out to about P200.00 per person which is not bad when you compare it to Manila prices, but its a tad too pricey for the locals and is usually reserved for special occasions or for entertaining guests. =)






























All told, there IS fine dining in Marinduque. Just not the multi-glassed, multi-utensil, napkin-on-lap, candlelit kind, but it IS the kind that you wouldn't mind going home to over and over again.

Yum! 'D

MARINDUQUE WATERWORKS

Marinduque is surrounded by water on every side so you can technically get to a beach in less than an hour from any point. OK, maybe I exaggerate, but it feels like it. =) It ain't Bora though if you're going to stay on the main island, although Poktoy (the public beach in Torrijos) isn't bad if you go during the off-peak season. During Holy Week, however, expect it to be as crowded as Galera.

The more famous "beach spot" would be the Tres Reyes group of islands. Tres Reyes for The Three Kings: Melchor, Gaspar, Baltazar. I cannot distinguish one from the other, although I've been told that the names are assigned based on the color of the sand that line its shores. The light colored beach is named after either Melchor or Gaspar. The brown beach is named after whoever is left between Melchor and Gaspar. The black-colored sand beach is named after Baltazar who was supposedly the darkest among the three kings. There! I finally remembered something! =) Haha. I have never been to Tres Reyes. We intended to go with Cousin Dooders and Special Girl MJ over the Christmas break, but we were advised not to proceed that day because of the strong current. Oh, well. Just as well. I wasn't really too intrigued by them. They don't really call out to me, although Manilenos who have gone there tell me that they are worth going to. =)

That said, if you do find yourself in Marinduque, ask around how you can go to Natangco. You would need to negotiate with a boatman to get you there (costs around P1,000) because it is about a good hour away from the mainland. The island is owned by the ex-Governor's family. Carmencita allows Marinduquenos to dock on the island and spend the day for a minimal fee. No, she does not need the money (being an Ongsiako and sister to THE Imelda Cojuangco.) It's more for the caretakers, I suppose. =)

Natangco is a tiny island. One side is lined with very fine, powdery, white sand; the other side is lined with corals. The nice thing about Natangco is that since it is quite "far" from the mainland (and you would need to check the currents before you sail out), it never gets crowded. When the Hubby and I once went with Ehdz (his best friend) and Ehdz' office friends, we practically had the entire island to ourselves!

There is a lone concrete structure on the beach: an unfinished house that may serve as refuge in case it rains. (Then again, heck, since we're on the beach anyway, a little rain wouldn't hurt, right?! =)) There are no restaurants so the Hubby and Ehdz made sure we were fully stocked with gallons of water, rice, charcoal and fish for roasting! Delish! No paper plates. Apparently, banana leaves are more convenient. Since they're biodegradeable, we don't need to haul them back to the mainland! =)

One may choose to swim, frolick on the shore OR climb up this tiny secret island. Yes, climb up. The Hubby and I once crazily thought of climbing a wall to the very top. (Actually, I thought of climbing the darn wall, and since I had already climbed it, he had no choice but to follow. HAHAHA! 'D)

In any case, when we finally got to the top, I had to take pause. Absolutely breath-taking. Yes, the view can actually take your breath away. *Sigh* =D

But the beach is not all that there is in Marinduque. The Marinduquenos are also very proud of the Malbog Sulphur Springs. It's supposed to have medicinal properties, and is particularly effective in healing skin problems. (Think Dr. Kauffman Sulfur Soap, yes? Haha! 'D) The Hubby has brought me there repeatedly and I had always refused to jump in because.....uh....for the life of me...well.....I just couldn't imagine why I would want to jump into a pool that smells like....uh....HARD-BOILED EGG! Yes, countless fights have erupted over my refusal to jump in, but I just wouldn't budge. He thought I was being snooty; I didn't care. Haha! 'D The Hubby finally got me to try it over the Christmas Break though when he brought Cousin Dooders and Special Girl MJ to Malbog. I mean, heck, Cousin Dooders was really more my guest than his so what the heck! Toyang & Tweety's strategy? Pinch nose. Dive in! Hahaha! 'D Wasn't too bad, really. As soon as I was in the water, I realized I was really making a big deal over nothing. The water was actually quite soothing. The tiny bubbles that "erupted" from the bottom of the pool before bursting onto the surface actually felt good as they tickled my feet. Imagine, if you can, a simmering pot and you'd have a pretty good idea of how the entire thing works. Simmering lang ha, not boiling. =) For the record, I did not come out of the pool smelling like eggs. I thought I actually smelled pretty neutral--ALTHOUGH when my clothes dried out, well.....HAHAHA! 'D

Then, there's the Paadjao Falls. I have yet to see it but I have only heard good things about it. We were supposed to go with Hubby Sweet's cousins one Holy Week but the Hubby came down with a fever, so Angel Aaze and the gang had to go without us. =( Oh, well. I suppose I could turn that into our mini-trip the next time we find ourselves in Marinduque. =)

Water, water, water, everywhere! Heck, even in the provincial capital, one need not go too far to get to a body of water. A River Runs Through It. Haha! *Sorry, couldn't resist. 'D*

Oftentimes, when I.R.A. (the Hubby's cousin) and I get bored, we would haul our asses off the couch and head out to the river about two blocks away from the Hubby's ancestral home. Yes, two blocks. Haha! 'D Sometimes we'd wade into the water. Sometimes, we'd just sit around in one of those huts where the women usually stay in the morning as they wash the previous day's laundry. I've been told that the river swells up during the rainy season. During summer, however, it's quite manageable with the deepest portion only reaching up to my thigh (and those who know me would know that's not too deep, haha! 'p). Quite manageable for scaredy-cat swimmers like me. =) With the fresh air and the cold water, you'd hardly even notice the noonday heat. =) It's quite an experience really, especially for a dyed-in-the-wool-Manila-Girl. =)

The first time I told Manila folks about me wading into the river though, I was surprised to get a single reaction: "Don't they have mine tailings ?" Weh? Mine what? Apparently, there was this big hoola-baloo about Marcopper mine tailings accidentally flowing into the river back in the early 80's (late 70's?), but I was either too young to remember or too apathetic to care. Haha. =) For the record, the river is now clean and free. I have jumped in soooo many times, but I have not yet tested positve for being radioactive. Haha! =)

Come to think of it, I've actually gone back & forth to Marinduque several times without seeing any reference to these Marcopper mining tails, er, tales--except over the Christmas break of 2007. The Hubby was bored stiff out of his wits, dreaming about wakeboarding and alternating between visions of Cam Sur and Lago de Oro. He is soooooooooo hooked on wakeboarding, he actually wanted to bring his board to check if a banca can actually successfully pull him! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! 'D I put my foot down on that one. Haha. Still, we jumped into the car one morning in search of a perfect wakeboarding spot and found a "lake" somewhere off Mogpog. The spot was quite scenic and seemed to pop right out of the wakeboarding videos that I wake up to every Saturday morning. (It's the Hubby's grown-up version of Saturday Fun Machine. Haha!) In any case, it turned out that it wasn't a lake at all! It was actually a mining pit. (Marcopper employed the pit-mining technique where they supposedly dug holes instead of boaring through mountains.) The "mountain" next to the lake was therefore not really a mountain; it was actually the soil that was dug out of the hole! The lake was not a natural lake; it was a mining-pit-turned-catch-basin for rain and river before the water flows back to the ocean. Papa D (my father-in-law) told us that the size of the "mountain" would actually be directly proportional to the depth of the "lake". WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! When he told us that, I literally took a step back, thinking if I fell into it, it would take them forever to find me! Haha!

On that day, I saw what was probably the last remaining remnant of the mining industry in Marinduque. Even to this day, water rivets running along the side of the lake still had a very distinct copper hue. I kidded the Hubby that he would turn radioactive if he ever he fell into that lake. The lady doing her laundry by the side disputed it. There was a time, she said, when the entire lake had a very strong and distinct smell of metal. Not anymore, she said. Besides, the fact that rice now grows right beside it (where none used to grow before) is a sure sign that it has, for all intents and purposes, been cleansed. She continued that people don't swim in the lake not because it is full of mine tailings, because it is too deep. OK then! Point taken. That being the case, I still wouldn't go in. Haha! 'D

Sya!

ANG MORIONES! / EVERY HOLY WEEK! =D

Growing up, we were not allowed to go out-of-town during Holy Week. Noni (my fave grandmother) and especially Lola Sinay (my great grandmother) laid the ground rules. To go on vacation during Holy Week is sacrilegious; everyone must stay home and pray. It was made clear that one will be allowed to leave the house only if he is attending a retreat or going to church for mass, the Stations of the Cross, the Washing of the Feet or the Seven Last Words. My childhood memories—and those of my siblings and cousins—therefore revolve largely around speaking in hushed tones (Mga anak, huwag maingay. Naghihirap ang Diyos!), moving about carefully, as Lola Sinay sang (yes, SANG!) about the suffering of Christ as she read from the Pasyon in a melody so forlorn, there was no mistaking that the entire thing was about something tragic.

The traditional Holy Week is considered sacred in our household that long after both Noni and Lola Sinay are gone, we continue to stay home or leave the house only to go on retreats or church—this time with Mother as our guard. Haha! Good Friday would typically find us waking up to boiled bananas, and that would be it for the day. Patay ang Diyos. Bawal kumain. =) But, yes, we are at least now allowed to speak in normal tones and watch TV. Haha! =D

The only exception to this family rule that was ever deemed acceptable--but only because I positioned it as a religious festival *sheepish grin =D*--was when my parents miraculously allowed me to go to Marinduque with Then-Boyfriend-Pa-Lang Sweet.Whereas Manila becomes a practical ghost town during Holy Week, it is ironically the only time the sleepy province of Marinduque wakes up from its stupor. Tourists (both local and foreign) troop to this little heart-shaped island off-Lucena for only one reason: THE MORIONES FESTIVAL.

I admittedly did not know much about it when I first went. I was too starry-eyed back then, too giddy at the idea of “traveling home” with my BF of two months (haha!) to really bother with the religious significance of the festival. It was only when I got there did I fully understand its richness. Whereas the tourists only see it is a colorful fiesta to be watched, the Moriones Festival is actually a panata to the Marinduquenos.To those who have never been there, the Moriones Festival is basically a week-long cenaculo (passion play) that is played out on the streets within the major towns. Although the Moriones tradition supposedly started in Mogpog, we would always witness the festivities in Boac, the provincial capital, where the Hubby’s family also lived.

I soon found out that as soon as Holy Week starts, Moriones would start coming out of the woodwork to walk all over town, effectively converting the streets into a practical stage. Some march alone. Some walk around in groups, converging in the town plaza. Others go around in chariots drawn by big horses. All of them will be walking around in “full battle gear”, keeping guard as the ancient Roman soldiers once did. Little kids would inevitably chase after them and taunt them shouting, "Morion, bunge!" (Toothless Morions!) only to scamper in all directions like headless chickens (the entire time giggling) whenever the Moriones decide to chase the kids and taunt them right back with their spears. I thought it was hilarious, the first time I saw it happen. =) I wanted to taunt the Moriones too, but thought I'd better behave first. Haha! 'D

Maundy Thursday and Good Friday is when the festival really reaches fever pitch. The Maundy Thursday celebration starts with a procession of all the participating Moriones, allowing the townsfolk to see all the different costumes in one long parade. I was told that each mask is painstakingly made by the person who wears it. No mass-produced, store-bought varieties here. Each Moriones costume is unique. To make one's own mask or to hand it down from one generation to the next is a tradition-panata-and-source-of-pride all rolled into one. In the olden days, I was told, the masks were made in full secrecy; no one must know who the person is behind the mask. These days, I suppose, the rules are a bit more lax. After all, I've seen the Hubby high-five a few Moriones because they were supposedly buddies in high school. Haha! 'D And yes, they do now stop for souvenir pics. Still, the richness of the image of a lone man carving his mask out of wood using basic tools is not lost on me, especially when you see the details of each mask, having found myself up close to a Morion. In addition, it is also not lost on me that it takes a supreme level of self-sacrifice for one to agree to wear the wooden mask and the Roman costume while parading about town in the middle of summer, sometimes even under the noonday sun.

On Good Friday, the cenaculo is played not on some stage in the town plaza. It is played out on the streets with the Moriones whipping Christ and the two thieves as they each carried their crosses, the entire time walking barefoot on the hot concrete pavement followed by several flagellants. In the bible, Jesus Christ fell 3 times on the way to the cross. In the Moriones version, it is inevitable that sometimes from sheer heat and exhaustion, even the robbers fall down--and while they are careful to have "Christ" fall only thrice, it is inevitable that everyone stop several times along the way. (Imagine carrying the weight of a wooden cross as the concrete pavement burns your feet and someone whips your back. Yikes.)

The Good Friday rites culminate on the small hill next to the river that flows through Boac. There, the three are crucified as the whole town watches from below, effectively replicating the scene at Golgotha. The first time I watched the entire thing play out, I honestly almost cried, because for some strange reason, I felt like I was being part of the "real thing". My Savior hung on the cross and I did nothing to stop it. =(

















The rest of Good Friday is spent preparing for the procession where some 20+ life-sized Santos in Carosas are paraded over town. Yes, 20+! Fully-decked with flowers and lit up by the families who have owned them for generations. Having spent Holy Week in Manila all my life, I was actually impressed by the length of the procession the first time I went to Boac. Watching the procession go by from the second floor window, and realizing that almost an hour has passed already with the tailend nowhere in sight, I remember asking the Hubby why the procession is soooooo long. He explained that it’s because practically everyone in town joins the procession as part of their panata. To which I ignorantly replied, “Ha? If everybody joins, eh sino na manunuod ng prusisyon?!” He laughed and explained, “Tweet, ang prusisyon, sinasamahan. Di pinapanood.” HAHA! 'D Stupid Manila girl. Ngek. Tanga. =)

Black Saturday is relatively quiet in Boac with no official rites scheduled—save for preparations for the Easter Vigil at midnight and for the Salubong at 4:00 a.m., Sunday. Patay daw kasi ang Diyos bago ang Linggo ng Pagkabuhay.

Then again, the Moriones Festival flows from the story of Longhino, the Roman soldier who pierced the side of Christ as He hung on the cross. Legend has it that Longhino is blind on one eye and that the blood that spurted from the side of Christ made him see. This miracle then prompts him to run all over town, fully converted, declaring to one and all that the Crucified Christ is truly the Son of God. And so after the Crucifixion on the hill (which happens at noon instead of the traditional Good Friday 3:00 p.m.), the Moriones switch mode from guarding Christ to running all over town in search of Longhino to stop him from declaring his newfound faith. From the afternoon of Good Friday and all through Black Saturday, therefore, the townsfolk (particularly the children) take turns in trying to divert the other Moriones’ attention, to the point of sometimes hiding Longhino inside their homes. Everything culminates at Easter noon when Longhino is finally captured, paraded before the townsfolk then finally “beheaded” at the town plaza, signaling the end of the Moriones Festival.

Its a different way to experience Holy Week, and worth going to at least once in your life. If you do decide to go, however, I caution you to travel to Marinduque AS EARLY AS HOLY MONDAY, and simply use Monday and Tuesday as "free days" when you can visit the other points of interest in the island (the beach, the falls, the caves, the butterfly farms, etc., etc.!).

The ports and roros fill up quickly Holy Tuesday onwards. Last year, the Hubby and I thought we were being smart about leaving Tuesday (so we can avoid the REAL Holy Wednesday mad rush). We got to the Dalahican port at 6:30 p.m., and only managed to ride the roro at 8:30 a.m. the following day! Que horror!

My aunts, uncles and cousins who decided to go to the Moriones Festival last year, but could only leave Wednesday because of work concerns, did not even make it. They arrived at the port Wednesday evening and was in line until noon Thursday with no hope of getting on the roro in sight. Umuwi silang luhaan (haha, loko lang) Maundy Thursday.

Now, that is a real Lenten sacrifice! Haha.

Oh, well. Maybe next year! =D

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All the pics are mine, except for the pictures of the Dalahican Port. I lifted those off cousin Day's Kodak Gallery album. Haha! (Thanks, cousin Day! =D) They were taken on the morning of Maundy Thursday while their cars were waiting in line to board the roro. Pretty much the reason why they decided to abandon all hope and turn back. Naku! =D