#night bus

The lady at Tourist Information desk at Sagado is trying to show me different hike options, cave spelunking tours, etc etc but my eyes are half-closed, my throat is a dusty desert, my lips cracking. I just got off the night bus and am still in this weird haze you get from a night of poor sleep. The lady asks me a question. I reply with Huh?
The first rule of night bus is you don’t talk about night bus.
I scramble my possessions divided between my big backpack and small bag and crawl out of Tourist Office. Off to find a place to stay tonight in this small hilly mountain town.
The second rule about night bus is you don’t talk about night bus.
The locals are burning garbage right next door to you while you’re trying to eat your breakfast at noon with weak coffee that tastes like piss. Street kids beg you for money, two oblivious dogs fucking each other next to your table, your coffee tastes like piss and it’s not even strong. But you don’t care. Nothing can piss you off. After night bus the whole world seems to not be able to bother you.
The third rule about night bus is when somebody is gonna be sick the bus has to stop.
In real life I’m a salesperson at a huge retailer. In real life my fellow night bus passengers are lawyers and doctors, sex tourists and college students, locals visiting their relatives, but it means nothing on night bus. Everybody’s equal on the night bus, everybody there is a rider.
One route at a time.
What happens on night bus can’t be put into words. You’re more alive then than you’ve ever been, watching the night fly by with its flashing lights, stars, passing busses, almost collisions, mountain vistas, running dogs, smoking shirtless men. MacDonald’s, Episcopal Church of Epiphany, Buy More, No ketchup - no worry!, buy, buy, buy, more, more, more. Fresh pancit, MacDonald’s, blah, blah, blah.
The fifth rule is bring inflatable pillow, eye mask, and iPod on night bus.
I can only sleep with my REI eye mask on blocking off the street lights and headlights of incoming traffic. I must have my music on or I won’t be able to relax. Sufjan Stevens on repeat, Jose Gonzales on repeat, all Radiohead on repeat, Bats for Lashes, Bon Iver, Polica, Sigur Ros, on repeat, I wake up every time the music stops. I can only sleep with my eye mask on and music.
The sixth rule is night bus will go on and on and on as long as it has to until it arrives to its final destination.
After you’ve been on night bus nothing can scare you. You’re not scared of flying anymore, or of heights, or spiders. You start considering hitchhiking as a way to travel.
The seventh rule of night bus is if it’s your first time traveling alone you must ride the night bus.
When I rode my first night bus from Nha Trang to Hoi An in Vietnam I was sure we were gonna collide with the upcoming traffic, fall off a cliff, and die. You aren’t alive anywhere like you’re alive on night bus. My most profound soul-searching happened during rides. The first time you ride you swear to never do this again; you’re weak. You see the same girl few countries later and she doesn’t even care, she’s ready to handle anything.

…

In other words I made it from Manila to Sagado via night bus. Tomorrow off to Banaue. I’m ok.