Ah yes, once again we find ourselves looking back through locations visited during our somewhat epic 2010 pilgrimage from Manila all the way down to Legazpi, accompanied by the ever-mysterious MrX and the ever-patient Philippine Railway Historical Society crew. Back then, railfanning wasn’t yet overrun by questionable characters and half the places we explored were still shiny new discoveries for us—like kids in a railway-themed candy store.
Del Gallego Station, in particular, was a bit of a wild goose chase—difficult to locate but absolutely worth the effort once we stumbled upon its surprisingly charming design and prime real estate. As with many stops on that journey, the locals were a treasure trove of stories, mostly people who’d grown up with the railway line as their backdrop, swapping tales while the station silently waited for trains that weren’t coming. At the time, typhoon damage had already put a big fat pause on services, and though the trains briefly made a comeback, it was the kind of comeback that lasts about as long as a mayfly’s Tinder match. These days, the rails see the occasional maintenance train — if you squint and wish really hard — while the station building plays the world’s slowest game of “gather dust and hope for a brighter future.”
Ah, Del Gallego Station — the grand old diva of Philippine railway history, now enjoying a well-earned retirement in the quiet town of Del Gallego, Camarines Sur. Once a bustling stop on the Philippine National Railways’ Main Line South, this station used to be the place where dreams took the train from Manila all the way to Bicol. It was 1938, jazz was still cool, and President Manuel L. Quezon himself came all the way down to hammer in a ceremonial golden spike, because apparently, nothing says "progress" like hitting metal into wood while photographers clap. It was a big deal — the kind of ribbon-cutting moment you’d post on Instagram with a sepia filter and a long caption about nation-building.
Architecturally, Del Gallego Station is no slouch either. Designed by Pablo S. Antonio, a National Artist who clearly had a thing for river stones and concrete, the building was a masterpiece of “weather-resistant chic.” You could throw a typhoon at it and it would probably just yawn. The design is shared with other stations in the south, so it’s kind of like the IKEA of Bicol railway architecture — stylish, durable, and hard to replicate without the manual. Back in its heyday, it sat right in the middle of town like a socially active grandmother — near the church, the school, and all the local gossip.
These days? Well, let’s just say the station has “retired gracefully.” No more trains, no more passengers — just curious tourists, history nerds, and maybe a couple of stray pusas. It’s been labeled a historical landmark, which is a polite way of saying “you’re old, but we still kind of like you.” Sure, the tracks are quiet, and the walls may be crumbling a bit, but Del Gallego Station still stands as a nostalgic reminder of when rail travel was king — or at least when it had a working schedule. So if you're ever in town, drop by. Take a selfie. Pay your respects to a legend that once made history — and is now making peace with the weeds.
Interested In All Things Philippines? We Have Heaps.
No comments:
Post a Comment