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For the last two days, typhoon Milenyo (international codename:Xangsane) had been at my heels. Fortunately for me , I misread my itinerary for the Northern Samar leg of an assignment. I was supposed to have stayed in Catarman, North Samar on Monday night. But, having misread the the itineraray details, I insisted on being taken an hour and half’s drive to Calbayog City. The rain started to pour Monday night in Calbayog. By the time my tricycle driver go me to Calbayog airport on Tuesday morning, it was too late. A piece of paper, scotched tape to the shuttered doors of the departure area simply read: “All flights cancelled due to bad weather.”
I puttered my way via tricycle back to the hotel in Calbayog. Afer being convinced that I was being ripped off for tricycle fare, I had to hire the same guy to take me to the “bus” terminal to try and catch some sort of transport to Tacloban City – four and a half hours away. It was the best bet having a slightly “bigger” airport with Cebu Pacific and Philippine Airlines flying out of it.
I ended up on the first bus that arrived the Linda’s terminal in Calbayog. The tricycle driver noted it wasn’t air-conditioned. Then I had to think about it: 4 1/2 hours sitting in air-condontioning rivaling arctic temperatures, with no toilets on the way, and with recycled air from at least 3 dozen strangers from who knows where and what type of germs. Heck, I boarded the al fresco bus — along with two roosters and a lechon! (At least we wouldn’t go hungry if we got stuck.) The roosters announced each and every stop, and I, in my nylon-like hiking pants kept sliding off the plastic covered seats at each turn and at every bump. My orange windbreaker was the only shield I had against the rain being driven in by the sheer lunatic speed of the bus as it wound its way through narrow mountain passes and dirt roads. We went through some remote areas and I realised that when my Smart mobile phone lost its signal.
By the time I got to Tacloban, I was convinced I had “Rip Me Off!” stamped on my forehead. The first tricycle driver would not tell me the fare to downtown Tacloban unless I got into his side car. The second one just flat out asked me for Php50.00. That about US$ 1.00, but knowing that I was only about a kilometer away from town and that fares in the city were Php5.00 only, there was something wrong. I finally called Roy, who ferried me to Guiuan from Tacloban the previous week, to get the lowdown. Turns out it was no more than Php15.00 and I was shortly on my way to the Hotel Alejandro where I had stayed the previous week. With my backpack securely on my back and my camera bag slung on a shoulder, I walked into the pre-war structure only to walk out in five minutes as there were no more rooms available. I was now in search of a pension house that the desk clerk said was just around the corner. They had one room left, and I snapped it up immediately and requested for a wake up call at 5:30 AM the next day to catch my flight back.
I woke up the next morning and called Philippine Airlines to check if their 5:45 AM flight was boarding and not cancelled. The gate was just opening for check-in the 24-hour line tells me. Huh? How could that be? It was only 4:45AM and an eager intern at the front desk woke me up an hour early. Oh well, no reason now to miss my flight. And, I finally made it back to Manila.
By Wednesday night, I was told that the next leg of the trip would be re-scheduled on account of the typhoon. I was supposed to go to Daet. I had just managed to escape typhoon Milenyo (codename Xangsane) through the Samar and Leyte provinces, and now I was being scheduled to head straight towards it from Manila. It was with great relief that I welcomed the news that this leg of the trip was to be re-scheduled. I was to stay in Manila and I did.
I headed out this afternoon into the streets of Salcedo Village to experience the wrath of typhoon Milenyo — probably the strongest typhoon to hit the city since nearly a dozen years ago. I had my rain gear on, and battled with the wind as I tried to operate a video camera and a 35mm still camera in driving rain and whipping winds. Trees were down everywhere! My $40.00 Goret-tex Timberland knock-offs from Kathmandu were flooded, and I was sloshing through rain water. I can safely say that this is the strongest storm I have ever experienced. It wasn’t so much the rain, but the wind. There was no way to beat back the 160KPH gusts that tore through this town.
