After lunch, Jen brought Jun and me to the Aguinaldo shrine last Saturday before spending the better part of the day swimming at the Island Cove.
The historic site is now a museum. Since Jen's next-door-neighbor is the curator (or caretaker, I think), we were given access to "closed to the public" nooks and crannies of the house: we climbed the topmost tower overlooking the town and had a bird's eye view of Manila Bay. In the main hall, I tried my hands on the General's grand piano, unfortunately the instrument sounded horrible.
Which makes the historic Spanish houses in Vigan strikingly different: people still live in those houses, sort of like a living, breathing link to a Hispanic past.
Anyway, during lunch, the resto's piped-in music featured Siti again. You see, she managed to creep in into the Horeca scene (hotels-restos-cafes). Listening to Siti is really like being bombarded with Abba (duh duh duh..Fernaaandoww...) for 13 hours non-stop on an airconditioned bus bound for Tuguegarao. You feel like either strangling the bus driver or jumping out the window.
The historic site is now a museum. Since Jen's next-door-neighbor is the curator (or caretaker, I think), we were given access to "closed to the public" nooks and crannies of the house: we climbed the topmost tower overlooking the town and had a bird's eye view of Manila Bay. In the main hall, I tried my hands on the General's grand piano, unfortunately the instrument sounded horrible.
Which makes the historic Spanish houses in Vigan strikingly different: people still live in those houses, sort of like a living, breathing link to a Hispanic past.
Anyway, during lunch, the resto's piped-in music featured Siti again. You see, she managed to creep in into the Horeca scene (hotels-restos-cafes). Listening to Siti is really like being bombarded with Abba (duh duh duh..Fernaaandoww...) for 13 hours non-stop on an airconditioned bus bound for Tuguegarao. You feel like either strangling the bus driver or jumping out the window.
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