The following is a narrative of a self-styled travel photography enthusiast who described himself a "wayfaring wanderer on a perpetual state of vacation."

It is four o'clock in the morning; he wakes up very early as compared to ordinary mornings. He sleeps late last night but needs to wake early this morning to get on to the second bus trip. He could have stayed half-awake until seven just like what he is doing to most of the ordinary mornings but today is very special to him. He will be traveling sixty-years back to the past.

After saying a little prayer, he roll up his sleeping mat and quickly made a few stretches. Not even sweating out, he makes a quick shower at the same time brushing his teeth and all the routines inside the CR.

Finally, he double-checks everything he has to bring with him, from main gadgets to the smallest details. The camera, four pairs of batteries, certain amount of cash, ATM card, identification cards, ball pen, memo pad, toothbrush, Nokia phone, Asus phone, few coins. At 4:45am, he is already on a jeepney going to EDSA with the bag on his lap containing all of the stuff being mentioned. He slings on his left shoulder his ever-loyal and most trusted companion in travel photography – the tripod. In his right hand is a piece of paper with sketches and outlines of this very well-planned trip.

Even before the timepiece hits 6am, he's already at the Genesis Bus Station in Pasay City. Luckily, it didn't take him much effort to get these because the terminal is just adjacent to the last MRT train station. Unfortunately, he can't do his most desired early morning brisk-walking. Never mind, today is a special day. Up to the last minute, he checks his mobile phone calendar to see if he's not mistaken with the schedule. The calendar indicates Friday, March 17, 2006 – Bataan Adventure. "Perfect! I'm not mistaken…" He smiled.

"Sir, where will you drop off at Mariveles?" The bus conductor asked. He does awaken from deep sleep and before he can make the answer, he glances at his watch. Boy, he's already traveling six hours from Pasay. That's a long travel compared to Baguio! Where does he think he is now? "Where are we now?" He lazily replies to the conductor. "Sir, we are already at Mariveles proper." The answer.
 
Just a few of the Mariveles sceneries.

"Sir, the Bataan Death March Km.00 marker is just a few meters away from here. You are free to get off from here if you want to." It's another reply from the bus conductor about his last inquiry.

"Okay, thank you very much…" and bid a good bye gesture to the bus driver and conductor before getting off the plane, err… the bus.

Excited, he proceeds directly to the site of the Km.00 Death March marker. Like a trigger-happy assassin, he clicks and clicks and clicks his camera up to his heart's contents. He move so quickly but he always sees to it that he could compose photos very well to avoid cropping at a later time.
After making a satisfactory number of shots, he proceeds to the nearest sari-sari store. There, he will finalize the next step of the plan. The plan is to hire any kind of vehicle so that moving from one place to another documenting this Bataan saga will be made easier. The technique is to solicit suggestions from local villagers and reconcile it with the driver who will be doing the service for him. He goes to the nearest sari-sari store with the most beautiful store tender and orders a drink and a light meal. He checks his time piece. It's already lunch time.

As far as the plan is laid out, he has to choose between a tricycle and a jeepney to be hired. He was later advised by the beautiful store tender that he only have tricycle as a choice. He has no option to get a jeepney as transportation in and out of Mariveles is now primarily by means of mini-bus. The local folks call it "Masda," so probably the engine of these cute buses is Mazda from which the name derived.
After paying his bill, he proceeds directly to the tricycle terminal. One by one, he is looking for every tricycle right there, making observations without saying any word. He spotted a tricycle driver with clean cut, well-shaved, ironed shirts, and clean tricycle with clean and newer engine.

The name of the driver is Sonny. He seems to be cool and must have got a higher education. He's from Zambales but got married with a Mariveles beauty. Though he's not a native of the place, he's already doing the tricycle business for three years and he is confident he knows a lot of historical fact about the place. He must be a capable guide.

After they agree to a fixed amount, they started heading to the nearest historical place next to the Km. 00 Shrine. The target is to photograph Tuol River, Longoskawayan Point, few death march marker along the way. Sonny is very impressive. He enumerated the death march markers in this order: Km. 6 to Km. 11 at Brgy. Alas-asin; there's also another marker at the intersection of Cabcaben; and another one at the last part of Cabcaben, found near the Rainbow Village Subdivision. He also asks the driver if they can possibly proceed to Limay.
 
Sonny, the driver, in one of the death march marker.

This is Limay scenery in the modern time.
They've been through with most of the death march marker along the way but they couldn't find Longoskawayan Point. "That must be very important because it's in my script." He told the driver. Anyways, after negotiating sharp curves and ascent and descent of the Bataan Highway, the 175cc two-stroke, mono-cylinder Kawasaki engine is still in its tip-top condition. He asks the driver if they can possibly climb up to the Mt. Samat National Shrine in Pilar. The driver replies that he was there together with his wife sometime but they detached the tricycle's side car otherwise they couldn't make it up there.

Suddenly, dodong flores gets curious about the name of the driver's wife. Hmmm… "Do you have a picture of her?" No, he didn't ask that. (He would ask the driver later about the wife's name). But right this time, he is strictly into the business. The driver recommends him to better take a mini-bus to Pilar from Limay and go find another jeepney or motorcycle for hire that can bring him to the shrine. Sonny also give alternative, that if he is willing to come back on another occasion for the next trip, he is willing to detach the side-car of this tricycle so that they can use it to climb up there. He voluntarily gives him his mobile phone number.

To make the story short, Sonny and dodong flores parted ways before reaching Limay. Prior to that, Sonny is kind enough to flag down a mini-bus and give few instructions to the bus conductor and the driver as to where his "friend" should get off. It was already past two o'clock in the afternoon.

He still has to pass by another town, Orion, before reaching Pilar. As to what Sonny had instructed to the bus driver earlier, they stop at the junction going to Mt. Samat and the bus conductor told him that he already reach his destination – the junction going to Mt. Samat National Shrine.
He inquires at the tricycle terminal as to how to get to the top of the mountain. He is told that the only way to get there is when he uses a private vehicle. But since he is there already, he can also hitch-ride to private vehicles going up. Oh, no. He doesn't want to play with the game of luck and chances this time. It's getting late in the afternoon so everything must be sure. He asks all of the tricycle drivers in front of him about the possibility of a trike climbing up the mountain. One admitted he tried once. He suddenly checks the engine of that fearless driver and he sees that the engine is a TMX 155cc Honda. He knows very well how this engine performed, and wasting no time, he closes a deal right away.
The road leading to the mountain top is asphalted but and very stiff they almost feel down to the ravine twice. The engine is very insistent but the balancing of the side car is very poor. dodong flores, smart as always, transferred his seat in front of the side car, instead of the passenger seat to where he is previously seated. This way, it gives more weight to the front than in the middle. That is necessary because they are climbing steep ascent.
After 30 minutes, they reach the top. It was beautiful up there and, well, well worth the effort. He asks the fearless tricycle driver to wait for him. He said he'll finish everything inside in an hour. He pays one entrance ticket worth twenty pesos at the gate and off he's already free to be roaming around. "Wow, it was just beautiful." That's all what he can say to himself. He is pretty optimistic he will enjoy every bit of the view. From his location, he can see lowlands from afar.

     
He proceeds to the marble museum. Roaming around, he sees Korean tourists onboard a private van. He sees old machine guns on display. There are Japanese machine guns, there are also US machine guns. These are powerful guns that had been witnesses to cruelty that humanity suffered during World War II.

A tourist walking at the feet of the Dambana ng Kagitingan monument.

Entrance tickets at the shrine.
Excited as he is, he goes straight to the Dambana ng Kagitingan Monument to climb up and see everything below. He pays ten pesos but cannot get on to the elevator right away because of a limited number of passengers allowed. He waits. Another group came; still, he can't get on to the elevator. "This is absurd!"
Fortunately, one of the tourists is considerate enough to give him a space for their group. He smiled and says thanks to that kind-hearted tourist.
Some views are just best described through photos than in words. These are the few from dodong flores' photo collection:

Going down from the top of the mountain via a three-wheeled vehicle with mechanical servo-brake at the rear, a condemned servo brake in front, and a free-wheeling side-wheel, is just like a suicide. The side-wheel wanted to run after the front wheel and keep on pushing to the left side. The rear wheel is already locked with the brake but the tricycle is still descending forward. The driver's face now look worried but dodong flores just enjoyed the thrill. Poor driver. Does he have a life insurance?

He enjoyed the roller coaster ride but he didn't like what the local populace is doing. Drying barbecue sticks on the right lane of the highway. What do these people are doing?

   
The Sword of Valor at Pilar, the WWII Marker and the Abucay Church
It was crazy four o'clock in the afternoon. He still has several points unchecked. "Royette, look at my list here and see what we can do so that I can finish this within today." He said to the driver. The driver scrutinizes the list and gives the following recommendation. "Sir, we can make it at the Sword of Valor at Pilar proper in just a few minutes from here. Abucay church is far away from here but at this point in time, you'll be in trouble catching up with your schedule and the transportation. This tricycle can also bring you to Abucay church in spite of the considerable distance provided that you pay me an additional."
"Well, then, let's go. No problem."

After paying Royette several bucks, his smile is very wide it reaches both sides into his ears. He knows he's paying Royette too much but it doesn't matter. Royette is a good driver and an average travel advisor, too. Royette gives him tip how to get to Layac Junction before the sun sets down and how to get back to Manila from there. After that, Royette squeeze his throttle back to Pilar. He glances at the tricycle's body number before it's gone from his eyes. It's X111-046.
From Abucay, it's not difficult for him to get another transportation going to Layac Junction. True to Royette said, it's wise to get to a mini-bus than an air-con bus. An air-con bus moves at an average pace and he couldn't catch up with Layac Junction on daylight. Mini-bus drivers are son-of-stunts and drive their buses like hell. For an average air-con bus, it will take one hour from Abucay to Layac Junction. He estimated on this mini-bus, it will be over in 30 minutes. So, he set his mobile phone to vibrate after thirty minutes and put his eyes to rest.

It is difficult for him to get into action. The intersection is very busy with the traffic. He could see lights installed and thought it must be interesting to get photograph with the monument during night time. But what if the lights are not working? He snaps photos of several angles. The backdrops are simply ugly. Metal skeletons, billboards, etc. Oh, no.
After he finished taking photographs, he waited to see if the lights would work. He proceeds to the nearest sari-sari store to take a bun bite and sip some soda. As it is getting darker, he feels an untoward stomach disorder. He knows he'll be having an LBM (loose bowel movement) very soon, so he change his mind and climb up to the first bus that had a signboard that says Pasay.