Over the months since 2012 ended, my team has dwindled from 5 to 3 then to 2, until me and Tish remained. Together we managed to meet the research demands for the IT deployment task we belong to. It has become a routine exercise for me, and I guess same for her, that we could do our job with our eyes closed even while listening to a damn Justin Bieber song and solving a Sudoku puzzle. We were joking each other "Don't resign yet, let us wait for them to fire us" so we could have employee benefits that comes with getting laid off. One random afternoon our boss, who shows up once every three months from the States, chatted me over Gmail. He wants to see me and Tish privately. A few weeks prior, I sent the big boss an email requesting a salary increase for Tish as a reward for her years of service working for the company (5 years without a pay hike), so I was kidding her that "this meeting could be it" the day they finally would grant her a salary hike.

I'm resting my feet in these remaining few days of 2013. It has gone through miles and miles of pavement and off-road rambling around new cities and towns I visited this travel-blessed year. Among my favorite walks of the year was along the charming colonial buildings of Yangon in Myanmar. It felt like being transported back in time albeit a few modern structures already erected, the old buildings from yester-decades still fills the streets of the city. It was a different feeling being in a country I deemed impossible to visit a few years ago because of political upheavals going on at that time. I, like the rest of the world is glad that Myanmar finally opened up and let its unique qualities be let known to all of us.

During my recent trip to Indonesia, I posted an FB update asking if anyone wants to receive a postcard from me. A few dozen messaged me their postal address, as much as I wanted to accommodate everyone, my budget restriction only allows me to send a few plus some to friends whom I already planned of sending one. The result was a total of 18 postcards showing scenes around Borobudur, stamped and sent via airmail. While walking around Yogyakarta I found a cozy small cafe where I sat down and wrote on it one by one, thereby using my hand again to write after years of using the pen to only sign my name on documents. There I was, again writing long sentences with my penmanship smearing all over the card, hoping it would reach the recipients in no time.

A year ago typhoon Pablo walloped Cateel, Davao Oriental and Compostela Valley. It was one of the strongest storms that hit the country to date. I remember the owner of the restaurant where we had a drink the night I was in Cateel telling us over a bottle of San Miguel Light–as he joined me and Nunoy–told me of that horrifying night last December. "My brother in law who is a member of the US Navy called my wife already the day before" he narrates to us. "the typhoon was so huge that the US Navy and the US Atmospheric office started monitoring it, he warned us to get away from Davao Oriental. I was able to send my wife to Davao the day before, that morning I tied up some of the restaurants stuff, people who saw asked what I was doing, nobody thinks at that time that Pablo will be that strong"

I can't wait to start writing about my trip to Yogyakarta, but little time and too much procrastination in between disallow me. However, I was able to put together in hurried state, a music video of the random footage I took in between walking around this interesting city and visiting the temple complex of both Borobudur and Prambanan. As a preview of my future blog posts about this trip of mine, here is it with the Byrd's "Turn Turn Turn" as the soundtrack.

I always worry about passing immigration since this experience in Hong Kong a couple of years ago, that it was my biggest worry for this trip to Indonesia. Since I've tried being a freelancer for a few months now, I don't have any company ID to show anymore. So as I arrived at NAIA Terminal 3 it was all I'm thinking about it. As I line up to pay for the expensive travel tax, I got distracted by this Spanish looking mestiza girl in front of me. I quickly assumed she's either going to Bali or Phuket. That's why when I saw her again with her friend lining up at the check-in counter going to Jakarta I was a bit surprised.

I went to Melaka directly after we arrived at Kuala Lumpur from Myanmar. Which begs the question what to do after Myanmar? Melaka was unfairly put to a spot wherein it has to at least keep up with the highs of both Bagan and Yangon in Myanmar. If i came here a different time, I would probably have more fun and desire to take photographs. Still, I did a lot of walking around streets littered with old and historic structures mixed with the modern ones (a replica of Marina Bay Sands hotel in SG is currently being constructed near the waters of the straight of Melacca) , trying out local dishes here and there. It wasn't bad at all really.

Jomalig Island with all its natural gifts, is often overlooked and, for most people remains unknown. Perhaps this is because of its strategic location dwarfed by the bigger Polilio group of islands and the feeling of isolation it presents as it faces the vast Pacific Ocean. Travelers who are prepared to brave a six hour boat journey from Real, Quezon are rewarded with a pristine island, visually untouched by outsiders. It is a fact which is both a boon and bane of the island.

We have the whole Pine-laden Salibungot Beach to ourselves

During the budget hearing (held over FB group chat) of our planned Myanmar trip late last year, nobody mentioned about "staying in a posh hotel" which is the kind of talk nobody mentions among the company of fellow backpackers. I was just happy to be going to Bagan, Myanmar that sleeping at the foot of a random temple seems like a sound plan to me already. However, everything changed when a marketing person read the signature on the email sent by Ron–one half of Flip Travels website–asking for their rates for a group of 10 travelers. Without solicitation we were offered a free stay for two nights at this hotel with a renaissance-age sounding name called The Hotel @ Tharabar Gate.

We headed to the surfing town of Bagasbas after our overnight camping at Calaguas Island, immediately we located this still-closed bar during the height of the morning sun. A lone staff by the name of Restituto (I forgot his name, but let's call him that for I'm sure he'll change his name to Bebe Chittybangbang someday) was sweeping the floor. He eyed us looking lost and in dire need of a shade. He instantly connected with Lauren and Sharlyn like they're long lost BFF's or something. Restituto was constantly admiring Lauren's backpacking attire - which consists of a yellow dress, a fedora hat and high heeled shoes.