How to Survive a Circus, Disguised as a Staycation, at L’Fisher Chalet in Bacolod!

Parting ways with my army of fluffballs, we embarked on what was meant to be a glamorous, three-day “escape from reality” (a.k.a. staycation) at the ever-so-exquisite L’Fisher Chalet in Bacolod. Imagine, the life of the Kardashians minus the paparazzi, scandals, and all the drama – that was the goal.

And why, you ask? Oh, nothing major. Just that we had to stay in the city because our dear Mitsubishi Strada truck was due to get a shiny new turbo heart transplant. Ralph, the truck whisperer and wannabe surgeon, wanted to be close by – just in case the auto repair shop needed some cheerleading, moral support or an emergency coffee run.

So, with dreams of posh living dancing in our heads, off we went! Yet, as fate would have it, our ‘luxurious escape’ began to feel more like an episode of a reality show called “How to Ruin Your Vacation 101.” The show that’s dedicated to those who like their vacations served with a hearty side of “plot twist” and “are you kidding me?!” moments. Now, who wouldn’t want a ticket to that, right?

Living the Grand(ly Overrated) Superior Life: Adventures in Overwork!

So, there we were, checking into L’Fisher Chalet at half past three in the afternoon, ready to dive headfirst into the opulence of the Grand Superior room. “Grand Superior” – sounds like a retired superhero’s alter ego, doesn’t it? And let me tell you, it was every bit as impressive.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder why we were all gung-ho about pouring our savings into a room that was basically going to be a glorified, super-expensive cubicle. Seriously, we were going to be glued to our laptops most of the time anyway. We might as well have invested in gold-plated mouse pads or diamond-encrusted keyboards, right?

But before you cast judgment, let me just say that this was all Ralph’s idea. He was absolutely smitten with the notion of ‘working in style’, saying it would make us more productive. Sure, Ralph, and maybe if we wave our credit card bills in the air, it’ll bring us good luck.

When Dinner Turns Into a Fire-Breathing Contest: The Tale of an Unexpectedly Spicy Surprise

Taking our staycation to the next level of “how-many-calories-can-we-consume-in-one-sitting,” we launched ourselves into a culinary frenzy at Lemon Grass in Ayala Mall for dinner. Oh, the audacity! The rebellion! I tossed my keto diet out the window faster than a cat chasing a laser pointer.

I went all in, with the gusto of a toddler in a toy store, ordering the oh-so-tempting Sweet and Sour fish and a side of plain rice. Hey, don’t look at me like that! We’re talking about a vacation here, not a weight loss boot camp. I can’t say no to a mouthwatering plate of fish with the promise of a joyous dance on my taste buds.

Seriously, who can stick to a diet when there’s a menu in front of you that’s as colorful as a kid’s drawing, filled with culinary delights as far as the eye can see? “Dietary restrictions,” you say? I say, “Welcome to Flavortown, population: me!”

Ralph, being the Indiana Jones of the foodie world, was lured by the siren call of a spicy shrimp dish. Ever the clever one, he decided to ditch the plain rice. But lo and behold, the rice that accompanied his dish was enough to satiate a starving battalion! Seriously, I wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been tiny rice farmers tending to it!

Never one to back down from a challenge, I bravely rolled up my sleeves to help. And oh boy, that spiciness smacked me right in the taste buds! I mean, I’m all for a little heat, but this was like biting into a firecracker. One bite and I was huffing and puffing, transforming into a human foghorn. Talk about your dinner and a show!

Despite our Herculean efforts, Ralph’s rice remained virtually untouched, a monument to our culinary hubris. We had to throw in the towel, our dreams of victory buried under a mini mountain of rice. Turns out, we’d underestimated the enormity of the task at hand and missed the chance to etch our names in the annals of rice consumption history. What a time to be alive, huh?

From Fashion Faux Pas to Rain-Soaked Reality Shows: The Staycation Chronicles

With the break of dawn, we found ourselves eager to start our day with breakfast at the main tower of the hotel. Decked out in our chic yoga gear – because, yes, we had grand plans of morphing into graceful swans at a yoga session later – we entered the breakfast area like a couple of wellness influencers.

And boy, did we turn heads! Only, not in the way we’d hoped. Ralph’s avant-garde fashion choice of a mesh top sent the hotel staff into a frenzy of raised eyebrows and side-eyes. Turns out, our casual chic wasn’t quite up to the L’Fisher Chalet’s version of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” standard.

Like a scene from a sitcom, poor Ralph was politely asked to change into something a tad less ‘airy’. All the while, I half expected someone to ask for a drum roll. It was one of those moments when you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Ralph went from fashion forward to mildly mortified in 0.2 seconds flat. A bit miffed, he set off to switch his mesh masterpiece for a slightly less eye-catching ensemble. The things we do for a side of bacon and eggs, am I right?

The Great Utility Box Caper: A Tale of Misfortune and Stolen Disappointment

In a twist of unfortunate events, our trusted mechanic, John Lingamen, made a phone call that had our ears perking up like curious meerkats. With a voice as nervous as a cat caught in the act of knocking over a precious vase, John reported the unthinkable – while he was preparing to take our truck for a test drive after the turbo installation, a tricycle bandit swooped in like a feathered thief and nabbed our long black utility box! Gasp! The audacity!

Oh, the agony in John’s voice was palpable. It was as if he was expecting us to rain down fury upon him for failing to defend our box like a knight guarding a treasure chest. But fret not, dear John, for we quickly assured him that the stolen box held no real treasures of immense value. After all, we had long considered the fact that sooner or later, some mischievous soul would cast their covetous eyes upon that tantalizingly exposed box, just sitting there like a museum exhibit begging to be pilfered.

Ah, the comedy of life! Even in the face of theft, we found solace in the fact that our loss was merely a box-shaped inconvenience. So, fear not, dear John, for your knightly honor remains untarnished. It seems the mischievous tricycle bandit got away with a box full of disappointment rather than untold riches. And with that, we bid farewell to our beloved utility box, hoping it finds a new home where its contents will be cherished (or at least utilized) by its new owner.

When a Staycation Becomes a Soap Opera: The Emotional Roller Coaster Edition

Our staycation saga took a rather dramatic turn when we decided to venture out to Bob’s restaurant that evening. Picture this: Ralph and I, usually the dynamic duo, locked in an argument that could put any reality TV show to shame. Oh yes, it was about as fun as stepping on a Lego barefoot.

The evening was heavy – you know, like that feeling when you realize you’ve forgotten your phone at home, only ten times worse. Even the weather decided to get in on the act. I mean, why stay dry when you can have a spontaneous downpour to match your mood, right?

Adding to the “cheer,” the restaurant was oddly close to a hospital, which Ralph swore was contributing to the Debbie Downer vibes. And there we were, stuck in an emotional echo chamber, as our earlier spat turned the evening sourer than a lemon’s dream.

As the rain kept pouring like it was auditioning for a Shakespearean tragedy, we decided to ditch any further plans. Cue us, two wet and disgruntled vacationers, trudging back to the hotel without so much as a tricycle rickshaw in sight. The hotel guards, bless them, tried to find us a cab, but it seemed all of Bacolod had gone into hibernation.

Drained and disillusioned, we decided to throw in the towel, or rather, the rain-soaked clothes, and call it a night. There we were, tucked in bed way earlier than anyone on a vacation should be. And, as we lay there, it struck us: sometimes, even the best-laid plans can go belly up, leaving you feeling as flat as a pancake that’s been run over by a steamroller. Such is life!

When the Pool Party Flops and Time Stands Still: A Lesson in Patience and Chlorine Tolerance

As the sun peeked over the horizon on the second morning, Ralph prepped himself for breakfast like a groom on his wedding day. Choosing an outfit with the same seriousness as selecting the next Pope, he reached for one of his most extravagantly priced tops. Apparently, the “mesh-top-mishap” of the day before had left a dent in his fashion confidence. This time around, he was taking no chances. The man was determined to meet that darn dress code, come hell or high fashion!

The chalet flaunted its pièce de résistance – a rooftop pool as glorious as the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. It was an irresistible lure for Ralph, who promptly invited our son Ken and his girlfriend Arriana to join us for some poolside shenanigans on day three of our glamorous-turned-grotesque staycation.

But just when you think things might take a turn for the better, in comes a flashback to sucker punch us right in the feels. You see, the last time we’d frolicked in the pool was with my late nephew Gino Aguirre and his adorable daughter Gabe, in a time before masks and social distancing became all the rage.

So, as we looked forward to a day of poolside relaxation, we couldn’t help but feel a tinge of nostalgia and melancholy. A bittersweet cocktail of excitement and remembrance, reminding us that times may change, but memories stay forever, kind of like that stubborn ketchup stain on your favorite white shirt.

The pool was alive with the delightful squeals and splashes of little humans, making it look more like a kiddie pool party than a relaxing oasis. Now, I’m all for youthful exuberance, but the thought of potential ‘hygiene surprises’ sent a shiver down my spine. Before you could say “chlorine,” I bid a hasty retreat from the mini water park and parked myself at a table.

Waiting for our lunch orders to be taken at the chalet was like waiting for a sequel to a popular movie – exciting in theory, but with an unnerving amount of anticipation involved. With the rooftop restaurant’s doors sealed tight until 11 am and the chef not making his grand entrance until 2 pm, it felt like we were stuck in a culinary version of “Waiting for Godot”.

And just when we thought things couldn’t get any more amusing, our coffee arrived colder than a polar bear’s toenails. Honestly, I’ve had warmer welcomes from my dentist! So there we sat, with dreams of a steaming cup of joe dashed against the icy rocks of disappointment. We had to question, was the universe playing a cosmic prank on us or was it just a case of plain old bad luck?

Poof! Here’s Your Truck: The Magic of Perfect Timing

While we were busy soaking in the joy of seeing Ken and Arriana live their best life in the pool, a plot twist rolled in – and I mean literally rolled in! Our reliable grease monkey, John Lingamen, showed up with our fully-revamped truck. Ralph, ever the enthusiastic vehicle owner, bolted towards the lobby quicker than a greyhound on caffeine, all set for a test drive.

Now, folks, if there’s one thing to take away from this rollicking rollercoaster of a staycation, it’s this: CML Auto Repair Shop is the automotive equivalent of a fairy godmother. I mean, these folks practically bend over backwards to ensure customer satisfaction – delivering our chariot right to our doorstep (or hotel step, in this case)!

Their dedication to treating our truck like their own child (without the diaper changes, thankfully) was enough to earn our unwavering trust. So, here’s to the unsung heroes of our vacation – CML Auto Repair Shop – the silver lining in our cloud of wacky adventures!

As the afternoon rolled on, Ken, his girlfriend, and her brother turned into merfolk, splashing about and making the most of the poolside paradise. It was like watching a live-action version of “The Little Mermaid,” minus the sea witch, and it was just the pick-me-up we needed. After all, we’d earmarked Saturday as their fun-day and boy, did they squeeze every ounce of fun out of it! With their joyous laughter echoing in our ears, we bid adieu to the little mer-people and decided to head to the familiar turf of Ayala Mall.

Ralph’s Engine Expertise: A Comedy of Errors and Coolant Confusion!

As we were all set to embark on our Ayala Mall expedition, Ralph decided it was prime time to play car mechanic. He popped open the hood, peered into the abyss of engine parts, and what did he spy? An empty container! Cue the dramatic music!

Now, in Ralph’s defense, he immediately assumed it was the radiator fluid container because, hey, who needs formal automotive training when you’ve got a wild imagination, right? With the engine purring (or was it more like a nervous growl?), I swiftly dialed our trusty mechanic, John Lingamen, to report the “emergency” (cue the dramatic gasps). I even went the extra mile and snapped a picture of the empty container to send to John, just to show off my expert detective skills.

John, ever the knight in shining overalls, informed us that he had already left CML Auto Repair Shop but would gladly have one of his trusty men to look at the truck at CML. However, Ralph, with a nervous twitch in his foot and visions of engine meltdowns dancing in his head, suggested we play it safe and head to Smart Lube, another auto repair shop conveniently close by. Because, you know, what’s an adventure without a detour, right?

But wait! John, in a stroke of automotive wizardry, sent his men over to meet us at the Ayala Parking Lot. It was like a secret meeting of the coolant commandos, armed with various containers of magical liquid. They swiftly assessed the situation, refilled not one, not two, but three whole big containers of coolant, and saved the day. Turns out, it wasn’t the radiator fluid container after all. Nope, just a casual mix-up with the reservoir. Easy mistake, right?

Oh, the joys of car ownership! Who needs a thrilling roller coaster when you can have a heart-pounding engine misadventure? Ralph and his engine knowledge strike again!

Starbucks: The Ultimate Refuge for Weary Staycation Warriors!

With the engine crisis averted and our automotive misadventures behind us, we did what any seasoned travelers would do – we embarked on a pilgrimage to the sacred grounds of Starbucks! Because nothing screams “vacation vibes” like a caffeine fix, am I right?

With the scent of freshly brewed coffee drawing us in like a tractor beam, we hastily made our way to that beloved coffee haven. It was like the Emerald City for us weary travelers, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of our staycation shenanigans.

So, with our hearts full of hope and our wallets ready to take a hit (because who needs savings when there’s a venti Caramel Macchiato calling your name?), we stepped into that familiar coffee-scented sanctuary. Oh, the joy of knowing that no matter how wild our staycation had been, we could always count on the comforting embrace of a grande latte to soothe our souls.

Because, let’s face it, when life throws curveballs at you, nothing beats sipping on a warm cup of liquid magic while pretending to be engrossed in the latest bestseller (but actually using it as a prop for expert people-watching). Starbucks, you glorious bastion of caffeinated happiness, you saved the day once again!

When Your Tummy Declares Mutiny: The Epic Tale of a Movie Night That Wasn’t

Now, we had grand plans to feast our eyes on the latest “Fast and the Furious” flick featuring the rock-hard abs… I mean, the captivating presence of Jason Momoa. But, if you’ve been following our staycation saga, you’ll know that our plans have a knack for taking more unexpected turns than a mystery novel. Stay tuned, folks! The drama is just getting started!

Well, folks, you’re not gonna believe this, but in a plot twist worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster, our stomachs decided to rebel! Mine chose to throw a tantrum of the highest order, making the prospect of a two-hour movie about as appealing as a root canal. Meanwhile, Ralph’s movie mojo had taken an unscheduled vacation. The bottom line? No movie night for us.

With the wind knocked out of our cinematic sails, we decided to drown our sorrows in some delicious Japanese cuisine at Tokyo Tokyo. But, as it turns out, our tummies had other plans. Either we overestimated our appetites, or the food was secretly multiplying on our plates!

So, we did what any self-respecting food lovers would do: we asked for takeout boxes. We trudged back to our hotel room, carrying our half-devoured dinner like a badge of honor, ready to battle the leftovers later. Because who needs a movie when you can have a dinner-sequel in the comfort of your hotel room? Ain’t staycation life grand!

Dancing Tables and Insomniac Nights: A Staycation Serenade You’d Rather Miss

Oh, did I mention our nights at L’Fisher Chalet felt like we were bedding down on a backstage of a rock concert? Despite shelling out a king’s ransom for a Grand Superior room, we were gifted with the dulcet tones of what sounded like a herd of elephants tap-dancing directly above us. Turns out it was just the restaurant staff moving tables around on the concrete floor. So much for those dreamy visions of a peaceful slumber – those got shattered quicker than a glass vase at a cat convention!

So, folks, let’s wrap up this wild ride. Our three-day staycation at L’Fisher Chalet in Bacolod was less ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and more ‘Eat, Pray, Noise.’ A whirlwind of unexpected twists, disappointments, and a dress code debacle straight out of a sitcom.

Sure, we had a few hiccups – okay, maybe more than a few. The battle between splurging and sense, the poolside pandemonium, and the cacophonous concertos at night all painted a picture that was far from the masterpiece we’d envisioned.

But, hey, it wasn’t all doom and gloom! The silver linings were definitely the rockstar service from CML Auto Repair Shop and the aquatic antics of our son and his girlfriend. Plus, they say the best stories come from the worst vacations, right? So here’s to living, laughing, and learning to check the floor plan of your hotel room before booking! Life is full of surprises, and sometimes, you just gotta roll with the punches… or should I say, the noise!