First Impressions Last

(Note: This is my first post after our Travel Writing class ended. I haven't had time to write new travel stories. This isn't new; I wrote this as an activity for class, and we weren't required to publish our articles for that activity on our travel blogs. But I'm posting it, almost a year hence, because I have been feeling extra nostalgic about Berlin lately. It is, after all, the first city I ever visited in Europe. What was once a distant dream for me had become reality, and the moment was every bit as magical as I thought it would be. Of all places, it had to be one of the most historical, intellectual, and--dare I say--existential of the European cities. I couldn't be more thankful for the experience.)


Grand architecture and majestic monuments against a backdrop of clear blue sky—this is usually how famous cities are depicted in photos and travel magazines. Germany’s Berlin, of course, is no different. Yet, when it was my turn to tour the city last May, the sky was covered in thick, grey clouds, with occasional flashes of lightning tearing up the horizon. The cobblestone pavements were soaked with rain and the linden trees of the famed Unter den Linden Boulevard swayed to chilly gusts of wind. Yes, I toured Berlin in horrible weather conditions, and I loved every minute of it.

The Reichstag, looking even more austere against the gloomy grey sky. (Photo by Keilah Garcia)

Trade Secrets

Merchants abound, indeed, in this city that inspires all, from Third World tourists to the English literary master himself, Shakespeare.

 Picturesque buildings and gondolas along its famous canals. Photo by Homs Santos.

Contrary to popular belief, a romantic gondola ride is not the only way to tour this Italian masterpiece. Especially if a gondola ride costs just about as much as a pound of flesh. Even Shylock would have flinched.

In the Realm of the Diwata

She reclines, centuries upon centuries of noble guardianship taking its toll upon her delicate, yet inimitably strong, frame. Her long, flowing dark hair cascades gently behind her weary body as she lowers herself to the gentle earth. We tread softly upon her bosom, and we pass by the wondrous creatures that sought her refuge and care. They seek it still, in her and in us.

The mountain that is Mariang Makiling. Photo from this site.

Mariang Makiling lies, a deity in graceful repose, but she has yet to rest in peace. There is still work to be done.