If you can forget the motorised tuk-tuks, which can make the atmosphere almost as bad as in Manila, Vigan is a pleasant, old-fashioned place. I was woken one morning by the sound of music under my window. Passing by was a funeral procession, with a dozen bandsmen in white and yellow playing trumpets and drums, followed by the hearse on a decorated carriage, a hundred or so followers on foot, and half an hour’s worth of delayed ordinary traffic. People came to their doorways and windows to watch, no one minded the delay, life went on.
Another day, I noticed a large shiny chocolate-coloured insect running along the ground as I began to walk up Crisologo Street. Then another. And more. I stopped to ask a street-seller what they were, and she explained that the authorities were fumigating the sewers, which had driven the resident cockroaches to the surface. By now, they were everywhere, some flying, most scuttling, many squashed by the horrified tradesmen, seeing the end of any more business that day. I brushed them off my clothing, disentangled one clinging voraciously to the back of my ankle, and retreated to my hotel. Never a dull moment!
Quick Tips:
Best Way To Get Around:
Vigan is small enough to walk round comfortably, but as it is one of the few places in the world where the picturesque old horse-drawn carriages count as public transport, and have low, regulated fares of around 5 peso a trip, it would be excessively thrifty not to take advantage of the opportunity. The regulated fares only apply within the city limits, so check costs before heading out into the countryside.
The long distance bus stations are all on the edge of town, with the main ones around the market, which can be very dark and deserted at night. If you arrive late and have no idea where you are, take a calesa or tuk tuk to the centre, just to get your bearings.