We definitely had a good night’s sleep in Batad. The fact that we lacked sleep the previous night aside, the climate was cold all throughout that paved way for the perfect snuggle in bed. Though we had to close the windows at some point due to moths that paid us a visit in our room—which was perfectly understandable since we were in the mountains, somehow within the jungle—it was an invigorating sleep nonetheless. We woke up rather early, hence instead of being greeted by the rays of the sun, we were greeted by thick fog.

Little by little, the fog dispersed, unveiling the rice terraces once again. Mama and my brother Mikle grabbed the opportunity to have their photos taken by our room window.

The morning sight from our Batad Countryside Inn room.

It was just about time for breakfast when Ran and Riyan woke up. We then had our first morning meal in Batad, together as a family, with the mystic terraces as our background. At that time, it could not get any better than that.

A hearty breakfast at a cold but heartwarming place.

Right after our breakfast, we sought the help of our host to arrange for us a hiking activity to the peak of Batad Rice Terraces. Nisha gladly assisted us by calling the guide who was also the one who fetched us at the jump off point the day before. By 09:00 AM, we were all ready to take on the trail to one of the wonders of Ifugao, the stairways that leads to the abode of the gods.

The start of the trail was a seemingly never-ending descent. The ground was somehow slippery because of the rains that have been showering the afternoons, adding a touch of challenge to the hike. Around 10 minutes in the hike and we reached Batad Elementary School, and we reached a store where one could take a bit of rest after another 10 minutes. That was where things took a different turn.

The long descent going to the foot of the terraces of Batad.

Given that none of our companions are really accustomed to hiking, unlike Ran and me who are somehow used to it, Mama said that she cannot go on further. We tried convincing her, especially with our guide’s assurance that it would be easier from that point onwards, but for her it was a done deal. As such, my brother Mikle and my niece Riyan would stay with her and walk their way back to the inn. Ran and I would press on.

The path to what awaits ahead.

Around 40 minutes into the hike, we finally reached the steps of the terraces. It was apparent that the rice were just harvested as the stalks from where they were cut off still lay down on the puddles. Our guide told us that the stalks are left there to decompose on their own, providing natural fertilizer for the soil.

We continued our adventure along the steep steps of the terraces, treading carefully on the narrow path while immersing ourselves to the wonder before us where nature and human hands worked together to accomplish such a magnificent ancient wonder still standing today.

There are three generally accepted etymologies of Ifugao. The first one is descriptive of the people and where they live: ipugo, from i meaning people and pugo meaning hill, hence people of the hill. The second one is attuned with the Ifugao belief system: ipugaw, with pugaw meaning the cosmic earth, referring to the mortals. The third, which is homophonic to the first, ipugo, is said to be a kind of rice grain from the god of grains, Matungulan.

Exactly an hour since we started hiking, we finally reached the top of the Batad Rice Terraces, the soul of the Ifugao, the stairways of Matungulan.

It would have been perfect if we were able to drink coffee at the top of the terraces. That was in fact our expectation. Unfortunately, the store on the top ran out of coffee. We settled for a lousy option hence—soda. We had no choice and we had to quench our thirst from the hike.

We spent around 30 minutes on the top of the terraces, just allowing ourselves to be enamored by the wonder before us. There were occasional rain showers but we did not mind getting a bit wet. Before us was an experience worth savoring every second of that the drizzle from heaven became a fitting accent to the already magnificent view of a heritage site dubbed as the eighth wonder of the world.

On our way back to the inn, we asked our guide if we may change course a bit to trek the lower part of the terraces. He thankfully agreed, adding more steps to our Batad Rice Terraces exploration.

Every Filipino who has gone through the same elementary curriculum has surely seen the majestic Rice Terraces of the Cordilleras, whether in textbooks, posters, or postcards. With the rise of social media, this could not be any truer. Experiencing the terraces firsthand though is an entirely different story. Standing before them evokes a profound sense of connection, an anemoia of sorts. In that moment, one feels grounded, as though the spirit finds its true home in this timeless landscape.

Ran and I were able to get back to the inn just in time for lunch. Mama, Mikle and Riyan were waiting for us. Though they were not able to join us in finishing the trail atop the rice terraces of Batad, it was still a common lived experience nonetheless.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing at the inn. In the afternoon, we indulged in hilot, a traditional Filipino massage that soothed our tired muscles and eased the day’s fatigue. As evening approached, the skies began to darken; heavy clouds gathered, and soon, rain poured as strong winds howled outside. A storm was passing directly over Ifugao on our final day in the Cordilleran province. Despite the tempest, we felt safe. We were safe.

It was our last night in Ifugao. Three days and two nights were too short to experience everything that the province has to offer, but it was more than enough for us to appreciate the warmth of companionship of one another while in a place known for being cold; to be thankful for the presence of each other in our lives while surrounded by a magnificent handiwork of both God and man.

Three days and two nights. Ifugao is an unfinished business no more.