Nostalgia Trip

I was driving to work this morning when on the radio they played “Life in a Northern Town” by Dream Academy. Oh wow, what a nostalgic trip! I was suddenly transported to Baguio, circa 1982-83. We were all members of our college theater group, and Apa Ongpin, who was in charge of our lights, invited us for the summer at their family residence in the City of Pines. One afternoon we went to this particular peak where Apa claimed we could see the South China Sea. We parked Apa’s car and hiked to where there were huge rocks and boulders. We climbed upon them until—gasp!—we saw the magnificent sight of the sea shimmering way near the horizon. The sun was about to set. We had with us some bags of chips and a tape recorder. Jeez, a tape recorder, hahaha! Remember those? They were the one-speaker precursors of the boom box. We had only a cassette with us, George Winston’s December. We kept playing the cut “Variations on the Canon” while we watched the sun dip low. Fiery sunset combined with the ever-chilling air as dusk settled, with a solo piano score to boot. When the sun was almost gone, the clouds started rolling in. Suddenly we realized we were alone on some rock formation with the fog getting thicker and no lights. We decided to slowly retrace our steps, keeping just a few feet away from each other since visibility was suddenly down to less than 10 feet. Luckily Apa had wisely decided to stay in his car, and after a few minutes of walking we suddenly saw a ray of light piercing through the fog. Apa had wisely switched on the fog lamps on his car, and he honked his horn several times so that we can be guided to where he was. A few minutes later we were all safely in his car, driving back to the house.

The following year we went up again to Baguio, with the same theater group. Apa wasn’t with us though. We were playing “Life in a Northern Town” throughout the whole trip—on the way up, while we were there, on the way down.

Certain songs really leave their mark and become part of the soundtrack of my life. To this day whenever I hear “Variations on the Canon” and “Life in a Northern Town” I’m immediately transported back to the City of Pines. The memory of the scent of pines tickles my nostrils, and visions of the morning fog still linger at the corners of my mind. And I’m haunted by the ache of past joys, when life was simpler, friends were always there, and laughter came fast and easy.