Oh Baguio—once the idyllic “Summer Capital of the Philippines,” where chilly mountain breezes and
crisp pine tree-scented air promised a respite from the blistering heat of the lowlands. How charming it
was, as locals and visitors alike could stroll leisurely along Session Road, savor a warm bowl of taho, or
perhaps escape to the peaceful beauty of Mines View Park.
But, oh how times have changed. If you visited Baguio recently, particularly during the holiday rush, you might have thought you wandered into an episode of “The Hunger Games: Traffic Edition.” The city is so packed with tourists that even the locals are wondering, “Is this still our city or a theme park for stress?”
Let’s talk traffic—because that’s what everyone’s complaining about, and honestly, it’s hard not to.
Baguio, designed for a comfortable population of about 30,000, is currently hosting the equivalent of 400,000 tourists on any given weekend. Imagine trying to squeeze a hundred oversized balloons into a cramped car—yeah, that’s Baguio traffic.
Where once a 15-minute drive from point A to point B was a pleasant journey through the cool mountain air, now it’s a test of patience, fortitude, and how much you can tolerate the smell of car exhaust. The cars? They’re not moving. The exhaust fumes? Everywhere. The locals? Stewing in their own traffic-induced rage.
If the gridlock weren’t enough, how about the parking situation? Imagine this: you finally find a parking
spot, only to realize that it’s about as big as the trunk of a toy car. You squeeze in, and just when you
think you’ve mastered the art of urban parking, a taxi or jeep comes barreling down the road, forcing
you to play an impromptu game of “will my side mirror survive this encounter?” Spoiler: it won’t.
But traffic’s not the only problem. Let’s talk about what happens when you get out of the car and
actually try to, you know, enjoy Baguio. When was the last time you went to Burnham Park and found a
peaceful boat ride? If you’re lucky, you’ll find a boat that doesn’t come with an extra “tour guide” who
insists on narrating the entire history of Baguio, even though you didn’t ask.
The park’s been transformed from a serene getaway to a maze of selfie-taking, overenthusiastic visitors competing for the perfect shot with a swan pedal boat. It’s as if someone handed out maps to a treasure hunt, but the treasure is the sheer joy of waiting in line for everything you want to do.
Let’s not forget the environment. Those pine trees that once whispered secrets to those who wandered
among them? Now, they’re probably screaming for help.
With overdevelopment to keep up with tourist demand, Baguio’s natural charm is getting squeezed out. The city, designed for a population that could fit comfortably in a large mall, is now struggling under the weight of concrete, parking lots, and shopping centers that have no business being in a mountain retreat. The roads have become the jungle, but not the one you’d like to get lost in.
Baguio’s charm used to be its laid-back vibe. But these days, the only laid-back thing is how the locals
are “laying back” in frustration as they wait for cars to inch forward.
If you’re a tourist, you might enjoy the hustle and bustle, but to the locals, it’s becoming the world’s longest “holiday hangover.” They’ve been patient, they’ve been kind, but now they’re starting to feel like Baguio’s the tourist’s playground—and they just happen to live in the sandbox.
So, what’s the solution? A gentle reminder that Baguio wasn’t built to house an entire province on
holiday weekends.
Maybe it’s time for some responsible tourism—tourists, take a breath, and consider spreading your visits across the year, not just the holidays.
And local officials, do your part. You’re the ones with the keys to the traffic lights; maybe try turning them green for longer than five seconds.
It’s time Baguio gets back to what it was always meant to be—a peaceful retreat, not a circus act with cars
instead of elephants.
