RF and I bonded over wanderlust.

We used to walk around our old neighborhood holding hands and talking about everything and nothing at all. For pit stops and coffee breaks, we’d count out centavos to score coffee-flavored water at the local carinderia and a few sticks of Winston Reds. And still we’d talk as we watched our cross-section of the world parade by in their everyday dramas.

We talked about what we were and where we’ve been; who we met and why we remember them. We talked where else we’d like to go and what we’d like to be doing at this exact time five years into the future.

We talked and we walked.

Ah. To be young and in love!

Well, eight years later, we’ve managed to cover a considerable amount of pavement and dirt road. We don’t count out centavos for coffee and cigarettes anymore (I stopped smoking. He hasn’t.) due to improvements in our financial adventuring, we still carry the same amount of wanderlust around.

We promised ourselves that we’d try and cover every inch of the Philippine map, traveling alphabetically. After our backyard, we’d go on to traveling the whole wide world.

ROME! VENICE! SPAIN! ITALY! Ship docks, mountain ranges and vineyards! The world is our playground and we would be on permanent vacation! *thunder*lightning* Well, semi-permanent.

However, being working stiffs and not the offspring of filthy rich hacienderos have brought us to the realization that fantasies like those are a little harder to bring to reality. We were able to go to quite a few places that managed to pacify our travel bug. Nothing like traipsing around the world but poking around a few local places on a budget wasn't so bad.

We discovered the challenge of travelling under the radar and only on weekends. What happens is pretty much like a car-stuffing thing that used to pass for car pool back in college. The challenge would be to stuff as much worthwhile things in a few days for less than your weight in gold.

At first I was for packing a bag and riding any bus, but sensibility prevailed in the form of Mr. Accountant. So plans, however sketchy, were dubiously accepted: brief researches yielding touristy destinations, places to stay and how much to set aside to keep us from washing a hundred dishes a night or swimming back home to Manila. So far, the loose arrangements have worked. And as long as we keep a few hundred in his socks for emergencies, we were fine. Sensible arrangements, at least!

Nowadays, the status quo changed with the arrival of our little bundle of joy. A hundred million arrangements and considerations must be carefully thought of, planned and executed. Contingency plans must be brought up, evaluated and re-evaluated.

No loose arrangements will do for this new Mommy! From bathrooms, running water and diaper availability in the middle of nowhere, the criteria for a successful trip has now ceased to depend on whether RF and I brought enough clean shirts.

Our luggage for trips have grown from one old backpack in our heydays to at least four pieces of luggage, a car seat, stroller, extra pillows and a ton of disposable baby wipes.

Sigh.

Nevertheless, it's triple the joy to watch Oona's face as she watches trees go by through the bus window. Such a simple thing, but priceless! Even more so when she first stepped on sand. She couldn't get enough of kicking the dry sand about and squishing the wet sand between her toes. And to see her lulled to sleep by the waves on the shore, the gentle afternoon breeze, under the shade of a palm tree?

It makes all the harassment of planning, lugging bags, trying to outhink every possibility up to the last minute...still harassing, when I think about it.

But infinitely, definitely worthwhile.

Until the travel bug bites again and all the planning begins anew. It's just our luck to have itchy feet and from the looks of it, we seem to have passed on the passion to a little girl who can't get enough of walking about in her little squeaky shoes on her little toddling feet.