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Netnet Camomot .

THE worst part of travel is the early flight that requires waking up at the ungodly hour of 2 am or even a sleepless night, to reach the airport on time.

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Another worst part is the packing. That’s pack with a P—not F. And A—not U. You f…, er, pack your clothes before leaving, unpack once you’ve reached your destination, pack again before going back home. If you’re hopping from one destination to another for a vacation and/or for business, that’s definitely a lot of packing and unpacking.

Each traveler has his own way to pack, but it’s advisable to listen to a well-traveled person’s tips on how to be an expert in traveling light, with the first tip probably focusing on this: Please don’t bring the piano with you. Which I tend to do. Friends who see my luggage are shocked with its size, wondering why I bring so much stuff whenever I travel here in Pinas. I always give my body weight as the excuse: all these fats need extra-large or even bigger clothes which can easily fill up a suitcase.

I can always use the smaller luggage if I roll each piece of clothing until they resemble the size of a fresh lumpia. But who has the patience to do that at 12 midnight when you have to wake up at 2 am? So, I throw everything into a suitcase and beg each item to find its niche in there. Much like what a guru may advise to frazzled Metro Manila commuters who have had enough of lining up for the train and squeezing themselves into a pack of sardines.

Travel can be tiring because there’s no place like home which is the only place you’re absolutely comfortable in. Outside of that, you have to follow a certain sked, since it’s such a waste to stay in the hotel the whole day unless that’s your preferred staycation venue or your idea of working from home.

Besides, by the time you’re home, all you have now are the memories and photos.

Photos of you holding a crocodile, riding a crocodile, wearing a crocodile—you know, shoes. There are supposedly lots of that in the House of Representathieves, er, Representatives where you can have photo ops, too.

And carrying a snake, having a snake massage, accessorizing with a snake—you know, bags. If there’s a snake in your circle of friends, do a 180-degree turn and don’t ever look back.

And riding an elephant, feeding an elephant, watching an elephant paint like Picasso, Monet or Van Gogh. In your next safari, try to check if an elephant is indeed afraid of mice by wearing a Mickey Mouse headband.

But all tours that involve animals, even safaris, are considered as cruelty to them. So, you’re better off climbing to the crown of the Statue of Liberty. Or to the top of the Eiffel Tower, Empire State Building, Burj Khalifa, One World Trade Center, and the rest of the tallest buildings in the world, where you can literally look down on people if the figurative kind is what you’re doing for now.

The bookworm, of course, would rather visit the most famous book stores and libraries in the world, and go back home with an excess baggage filled with his most precious purchases—books and magazines.

And then, there’s the traveler who prefers the beach or the mountains where he can hibernate, watch the sunrise and sunset, savor the beauty of nature. Let’s see if he will still need a vacation after that vacation.

There’s such a thing, though, as staying too long in a place. Once you notice the seconds ticking by, it’s time to go home. That’s how I felt in some travels, making me swear to have a wham-bam-thank-you-Ma’am itinerary for the next vacation.

And once you notice that your clothes are becoming tighter while on vacation, promise to diet the moment you’re back home. Like what I’m doing now. Whew. All that lechon, lechon paksiw, humba and chicharon had to end up somewhere—hips, thighs, waist, upper arms, the six-pack spare tires. Which I hoped would be gone after all that walking at the airport after missing again the entrance for our plane’s passengers. I was used to the old entrance when Mactan’s check-in counters for domestic and international flights were still under one roof.

And for the first time in so many years, we didn’t bring chicharon as pasalubong. Long story.

Well, it’s now back to fruits, veggies and fish again. And back to the familiar routine at home. Home sweet home indeed.

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