Nipa Hut Heaven

 Ever since I met my hubby, he has talked about if ever, someday, maybe, we lived in the Phil, he wanted to build and live in a little nipa hut. Well, we got our chance to stay in one, anyway.

A nipa hut is a little wooden hut, usually on stilts, and with a thatched roof. Ours was only big enough for a double mattress in the middle, and although the peak of the hut was about 10’ high, the centre beam was exactly 5’.   A couple of inches shorter than us.  There are 5 steps that lead up to our door (on stilts, remember?) and the doorway is only 3 feet high. Easy enough to enter if you remember to stay in a crouched position until you are all the way inside the room. Which should be easy for people like us that like to stay in a tent occasionally, right?  Right. However, it is cosy and airy, and close to nature without letting nature get too close to you. Which suits me just fine.

It was an adventure in itself getting here. We left the mountain city of Baguio in the early morning.  My ever efficient hubby had booked us on a bus a day ahead, to make sure they had room on the only bus going to the town of Banaue (pronounced Ben-OW-ee), which was the closest town to our resort. It turned out not too many people actually wanted to go there on a Monday morning, so we got downgraded to a van. Just a normal size van, but they managed to squeeze 11 passengers into it. We were going from one mountain top to another, but had to drive over a couple of them first. We lucked into getting a cautious driver – at least he seemed to slow down ahead of turns and was courteous to other drivers and vulnerable pedestrians – until I noticed that he was texting as he was manoeuvring around the hairpin turns and steep drop-offs. The further up into the mountains, the more the obstacles on the road became unpredictable. Thank goodness that cell service also became unavailable. I had gotten used to tricycles and goats, but now chickens and cows were left to graze whatever side of the road took their fancy.  And since the grass is always greener on the other side, they were constantly crossing over in front of us. The entire trip to the town was less than 200 kms, but it took 6 and a half hours. It reminded us of the caribou's crossing our path in Alaska.

But the best was yet to come. In the town we transferred to a tricycle, my most favourite of vehicles, to be bumped and jostled for another half an hour over a muddy, rutted road along a mountain side. Washouts and landslides were common. Despite my doubts, we survived the 30 minute trip.

Our resort has an incredible view. We have another little community directly below us on a river, and there are rice terraces right in front of us. They start out big and wide beside the water’s edge, and as they slowly climb the mountain sides, the terraces change with the terrain, creating flowing art deco designs. We had seen terraced gardens on the ride here, but the difference is in the scale. The rice terraces of fame use whole mountain sides.

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We got a chance to see the full scope of terraces in the town of Batad. It just takes a lot of work to get there. Our 8 am jeepney bounced us over an assortment of concrete roads interspersed with muddy, rocky sections where, again, the road had either been washed out or a landslide took it out. Eventually the concrete just stopped altogether. After an hour and a half of this, we were dropped off at the peak and our guide indicated the path we were to take down to the valley. We had 2 choices: 500 meters of gentle grade, or 413 steps – no handrail – straight down. Due to my high degree of personal safety, we took the gentle grade. It was quite the sight to see young men with 80 kilograms of full water bottles balanced on their shoulders running down the stairs that I had refused to either go up or down. I would have taken a picture, but man! They moved fast! The bottom of the steps still only got us one quarter of the way down to the town site. 

We had the option of continuing past the town site and onto the terraces and even beyond to a waterfall.

After seeing the panorama of terraces around us, of course we wanted to get closer. The terraces are diked with stones and mud, at heights of more than 10 feet tall. Not only were the terraces formed by hand, but even today they can only be worked by hand. It is impossible to get a rotor tiller or even a water buffalo down the steps to each terrace. Our guide wanted to take us to the waterfall below the terraces, but as the hike involved balancing along the top of the dikes, with the 10’ drop on one side, I am afraid I bailed. Hubby continued on and told me it was a wise choice as the hike involved further challenges lower down. By the time he came back and we slogged back uphill to the jeepney, it was late afternoon. We were grateful for a shower and hot meal when we returned to the resort.

We spent 3 nights in the nipa hut, and by then I was a little more proficient at getting in and out. Staying in the mountains has been great exercise for us, which my legs remind me of every time I climb the stairs to my bedroom. Our next stop is a hotel inside a city south of Manila, and I understand it has every amenity.

Too bad.  I was enjoying our nipa hut and the incredible view of the terraces and the mountainsides.

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