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Of all the towns in Batangas, Bauan was one I knew little about. I had passed through its coastal beaches and heard of its most treasured relic, the Holy Cross of Bauan, a revered wooden cross housed in the Immaculate Conception Parish, central to local devotion and celebrated alongside a neighboring sacred cross in Alitagtag through what the locals refer to as Subli dance-ritual.

Yet until recently, I had never spent more than a day in Bauan. That changed when I stayed for a couple of nights at one of the town’s newest accommodations, the Sotogrande Hotel and Convention Center Batangas.

Over the years, and after many visits to Boracay’s white-sand shores, I’ve stayed in a variety of accommodations: from beachfront luxury to modest guesthouses hidden into inner alleys. But of all these stays, one property has become my island constant: Azalea Hotels & Residences. On my most recent trip, I checked in here for the third time, making it the hotel I’ve returned to more than any other on the island.

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.

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.

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.

Davao del Sur was one of the first provinces in Mindanao I visited. In 2009, I flew to Davao City with my then-girlfriend, Marianne. From there, we made our way to Camp Sabros, an outdoor retreat in Kapatagan, Digos City, known at the time for having one of the longest zip lines in the country, an 800-meter ride above the treetops.

Often mentioned last when one converses about the Bicol region, the province of Catanduanes revealed itself with such unexpected surprise that it swiftly secured a place among my top five favorite provinces in the Philippines. Its unassuming surf culture, endless rolling hills unfolding into sweeping Pacific Ocean views, and surreal rock formations create a landscape both rugged and breathtaking. Mornings reveal scenic peaks wrapped in a sea of clouds, while waterfalls, hidden lagoons, and a winding coastline of powdery white sand complete the island’s charm.

Seated on a mat laid over the cool sprawl of lawn of MiraNila, a heritage house and events place in Quezon City which now holds outdoor film showings and a house tour as part of its offerings, I stretched my legs, letting my sock-covered toes press into the softness of the earth. Overhead, the night shifted in slow, deliberate movements, with the nighttime skies parting just enough to unveil a waxing crescent moon. On the huge screen set up on MiraNila’s spacious front yard, Greta Lee’s Nora leads Teo Yoo’s Hae Sung through the bustling streets of New York City in Past Lives—a film driven by the weight of life’s what-ifs.

Beyond its big city vibe and bustling shopping and marketplaces, it hides a wealth of nature spots and soulful activities.

Growing up in an era a couple of decades away from the advent of low-budget airlines, I saw our rich neighbors jet off to Hong Kong for shopping trips. At the start of every school year, I would listen to a couple of classmates telling stories of high-rise buildings and the video games they brought home. Since then, I have come to associate the place as where the affluent Filipinos go for holidays.

When I first started traveling around Southeast Asia, I encountered travelers who had explored tri-cities or even provinces. This was because countries such as Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Malaysia, and even Laos have established tourism circuits that not only attract travelers to stay in one place but also encourage them to explore nearby regions.

Beyond their renowned "inabal" ikat-weaving tradition crafted from abaca fibers, the Bagobo-Tagabawa of Davao are recognized for wearing the "tangkulo." This vibrant, hand-dyed scarf is draped around the neck by community members, while tribal leaders and royals don it as a distinguished headdress. The intricate patterns of the tangkulo are not merely decorative; they signify status, spiritual beliefs, and the rich ancestral heritage of one of Davao’s most prominent ethnolinguistic groups.

When I first began traveling, I was drawn to the sheer visual spectacle of a destination—the more picturesque, the better. I believed that dramatic landscapes alone could capture the spirit of my journey, with each frame giving me a postcard-worthy memento. But as I pursued the craft of travel writing more seriously, my perspective evolved. I came to realize that a place is more than its scenery; I discovered that a great deal of a destination’s soul rests in the stories of its people. By putting more focus on the locals, I witnessed how their traditions, heritage, and daily rhythms weave a richer narrative, thus transforming every visit into a deeper, more meaningful experience that lingers long after I leave.

Anyone who has entered an old house, especially a well-preserved ancestral home, can compare the experience to visiting a museum. As one observes a piece of furniture, a painting adorning the wall, or an eye-catching design detail, including the very architecture itself, a rich narrative unfolds—one that stretches across decades and, in certain instances, even a century.

Azalea Hotels & Residences Baguio offers more than just accommodation, it crafts experiences. From its expansive suites ideal for families and barkadas, to its thoughtful, locally inspired itineraries, Azalea seamlessly blends comfort and culture. Its prime location and elevated service are not just incidental, they’re integral to the kind of stay that reveals Baguio’s charm beyond the tourist checklist. This was evident during the recent Panagbenga Festival, where media guests were treated to a carefully planned weekend of hospitality, historical, and highland festivity.

In a country where bus terminals often appear rundown, characterized by sparse benches, a solitary ticket counter, and a parking lot crowded with buses, certain ones, like Victory Liner's in Baguio City, distinguishes it among the rest through ample space and thoughtful design that caters to the needs and comforts of travelers.