I was excited when I first heard of the Temple of Leah, called “Cebu’s Taj Mahal,” one man’s (garish) monument to his deceased beloved. If there’s one thing that Filipinos are great at, it’s … unconventional … design choices. Bound by neither awareness of nor regard for the basic rules of style, Pinoys can get a little crazy with the cheezwiz sometime.
Naturally, I had to see it.
I hate waiting. Actually, check that — I hate unnecessary waiting. Stick me in bumper-to-bumper traffic with no one going anywhere anytime soon, and I zen out, maybe catch up on some podcasts; stick me behind a slow-moving driver straddling both lanes and impossible to get around, and I lose …
I bought myself a new motorcycle. And I do mean new — fresh off the showroom floor, she’s as cherry as cherry gets. I can’t wait to take her on all manner of adventure, exploring every corner of the Philippines, high and low, taking countless photos along the way.
Shame I’m not allowed to take her on the road for three months.
In 1985 my family and I visited New York for the first time since leaving it just three years prior. One of the only distinct memories I have of the trip is driving away from JFK in the back of my uncle’s Caddy, looking out the window at the airport as it receded in …
Despite having wanted one since I was twenty and a girl I was dating mentioned in passing that they were cool, I never got around to learning how to ride (let alone buying) a motorcycle. It was a fun fantasy but I could never drive, let alone own, something so laughably impractical and notoriously dangerous.