So I biked… from Basco to Naidi Hill and back, onward to Chinarayan and then up to Tukon, passing by the beautiful chapel on the hill. In every screech and turn of my pedal along the steep and ascending zigzag road, I could hear my heartbeat racing with my breath.
Never did I rant nor complain. It wasn’t actually my first time to take the same route on a bike so I already knew what to expect. And despite this known ordeal, I opted to take the same route again for very one reason… the view.
Ladies and gentlemen, the panoramic scene of the hills of Mahatao, a beautiful waving earth carpeted by sea of green.
This scene never gets old. Ah Batanes! I miss your timeless charm.