My fondest memory of travel were the "excursions" and out-of-town trips that my family and relatives used to take when I was growing up in the province.
My family, as well as my uncles and aunts, and my cousins, lived in a compound with several houses.
It has been a family tradition that at least once a year, the family and some family friends go on an out-of-town trip usually in the summer.
The routine was always the same: The kids are told to sleep early the night before the trip, while the grownups prepare the baon. Family members would usually pool their resources to hire a vehicle or two, usually a passenger Sarao jeepney, or a borrowed second-hand private jeepney to take us to the beach.
The matriarch of the family, our beloved grandmother (we call her Ima) was usually the first to wake up and sound off the rest of the family before the break of dawn. She would walk briskly from house to house in the compound in her worn out but still elegant baro't saya to wake up the rest of the family.
By the time we wake up, the compound will be a like a beehive of activity, with last-minute preparations in the amid revving sound of the engine of the rented Sarao.
We knew it was time to go once the driver puts a simple plastic 'Private Use Only' sign board on his jeepney. By the time the jeepney rolls along the highway, it would be full to the bream, with mostly plastic bags and the bayong where the food is kept.
We lived in Tarlac and the usual destination will be the beaches of Pangasinan up in the north. The trip can last hours, but it was always worth it.
Coming from a family with modest means, those out-of-town trips will always be a thrill and will always be unforgettable.