I’ll admit it, part
of my mind was still wrapped on our missed opportunity of traveling to Balabac
Islands. I find myself mentally drifting over its impossibly white sands, the
kind travel dreams are made of. They say it’s one of the most beautiful islands
in the world, and I was ready to believe it.
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| Tumarbong Falls in Quezon, Palawan |
After four extended
visits, each lasting nearly a month, it's fair to say that India has carved out
a space in my wanderlust. Friends often ask me why. Their curiosity is usually
marked with skepticism, sometimes even concern. “What do you like about India?”
they ask with bafflement. The question is often followed by a familiar refrain,
shaped by viral TikTok clips of dirty street food pantries: “Isn’t it dirty?”
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| A landmark that need no introduction. "A teardrop on the cheek of time" wrote Rabindranath Tagore |
On the journey back
to Batan Island, I found myself fighting off nausea aboard a small faluwa, the
traditional Ivatan boat known for its open deck, deep hull, and absence of
outriggers, built to navigate the strong, unpredictable currents between the
Batanes islands.
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| Rugged cliffs dominate the breathtaking landscape of Itbayat |
A detour had us learning more about the Jama Mapun banig weavers
Far from the tattoo trails of Buscalan, a
richer portrait of Kalinga unfolds in sacred rituals, heirloom recipes, and the
coldness of mountain villages.
Despite
years spent crisscrossing the Philippine archipelago, a few places have
continued to elude me. Chief among them: the mountain village of Buscalan in
Kalinga, home to Apo Whang-Od, centenarian, cultural icon, and said to be the oldest
traditional mambabatok (Kalinga traditional artist) of her generation.
Using a thorn, soot, and indigenous ink, she etches ancestral symbols into
skin, each mark a living archive of identity and cultural symbol.
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| Sunrise over the mountains of Lubuagan, Kalinga is a great reason to wake up early |
Organized by the Tourism Promotions Board
of the Philippines, the workshop focused on destination resiliency, signaling
renewed support for sustainable tourism in one of the country’s most secluded
islands.
Let’s get one thing straight: Batanes isn’t your average beach-and-bar-hopping Philippine getaway. It’s remote, like seriously remote. Located far in the Philippine Sea, over 160 kilometers north of Luzon, it’s a destination that shrugs off convenience. Ships don’t carry passengers, only cargo. Flights are few, and when the weather decides to be unpredictable, which happens often, cancellations are a given.
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| The workshop participants, media with members of the Tourism Promotions Board of the Philippine (TPB) |
Having climbed my
fair share of mountains during my college days, I knew well enough that when a
guide says, “Just 10 more minutes,” what they really mean is that a good hour
or more separates you from the summit. By the time I reached the boulder face
of Mount Apo, I was already battling a sea of massive stones. These boulders,
remnants of an undocumented ancient eruption, lay scattered like imposing
obstacles one has to hurdle with both hands and feet, and an impressive
balancing act, before reaching the peak.
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| A clearing and a sea of clouds |
Growing
up, the game of pabitin was a familiar presence during town fiestas and
children's parties. A bamboo rack, laced with small toys, snacks, and other
prizes, would be hoisted above a crowd of eager children. As the rack was
lowered and raised again, the children would jump, reaching for whatever they
could grab.
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| Farm and garden produce are all displayed in colorful Baluartes during the Festival |
In this town in Quezon Province, residents transform their homes into dazzling tributes to faith, harvest, and heritage.
Growing up, the word bayanihan reminded me of a painting of neighbors carrying a wooden house on their shoulders. It was a scene representative of a time when homes were built light enough to carry and communities close enough to do so together. But beyond the literal meaning of bayanihan, the term has since signified something greater, a collective effort, of people coming together to help one another in times of need.
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| Tagay sa Tagumpay |
For many Filipino
travelers and weekend warriors, the usual stops in Quezon province tend to circle
around the well-worn routes of Lucena, Tayabas, Lucban, and Gumaca, places
already familiar to motorists en route to Batangas or Bicol.
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| Top view of Balagbag Falls in Real, Quezon |
They say the third time’s the charm. But in Batanes, the northernmost province of the Philippines, each of my three visits has carried its own distinct magic. My first trip, over a decade ago, involved pedaling halfway across Batan Island on a rented bicycle. It happened to coincide with a town fiesta, and my friends and I were warmly welcomed into local homes, where we feasted on traditional Ivatan dishes and experienced generous hospitality.
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| Postcard-images at every turn of the head |
Marky Ramone Go is a travel-junkie, writer and photographer based in the Philippines. Aside from contributing articles to various publications and websites, he narrates his experiences wandering the tropical paradise of the Philippines, the culturally rich regions of South East Asia, Sri Lanka and India on this travel blog. After Asia, he is keen on exploring South America and eventually tracing Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" trail in the United States to Mexico.
