by Edgar Alan Zeta-Yap

Saud Beach in Pagudpud

Long hailed by travel pundits to be the “Boracay of the North”, Pagudpud has (rather fortunately) managed to preserve its laid back appeal. The coastal resort town along the northernmost coast of Luzon has been on my travel checklist for years. So, racing against an imminent tropical storm to take advantage of the long weekend, I hopped onto an 11-hour overnight bus to explore this coastal resort town. Incredibly, the main stretch of Saud Beach managed to whip up a postcard-pretty union of sun, sand and surf, accented by bancas as brightly hued as the sea. Across the sweeping bay, the white behemoths of Bangui looked no larger than toy pinwheels.

Villagers fishing in the aquamarine waters of Blue Lagoon

After taking a stroll down Saud, I took a tricycle to Maira-ira Beach, a secluded eastward-facing cove of aquamarine waters, which give it its other name, Blue Lagoon. (Sorry, no Brooke Shields here.) The cove is characterized by two craggy islets called Dos Hermanos. In true bayanihan spirit, I came across a dozen or so villagers casting an enormous fishing net across the cove. They pulled the net back onto beach, revealing a bounty of anchovies and squid. Instead of taking the tricycle, I walked back to the highway, dropping by two more interesting seascapes popular with tourists: Bantay Abot Cave (actually a sea arch, reminiscent of a Polo mint candy) and Timmangtang Rock, where some cheerful children showed me how to fish at the tidal pools. Read the rest of this entry »

by Ced Valera

Daraga Church and its gentle facade

It was supposed to be a typical summer weekend. But instead of beginning the day by slathering on some sunscreen and putting on shades, we fumbled for our jackets and umbrellas to shield ourselves from the rain.

I’ve been accustomed to majestic sunrises onboard Bicol-bound buses. The sun would creep gently on the horizon, slowly casting a deep, warm glow on the wet paddies. But that morning was just a montage of gray, a heavy sky hovering restlessly. By the time we arrived in Legazpi, it began raining.

Despite the drizzle, we managed to accomplish a bit of sightseeing. Mt. Mayon, the usual attraction, withheld its usual assuring beauty. Clouds gathered and culminated on the volcano’s upper half, as if it was spewing ash. I, however, was mystified by the Daraga Church’s newly painted façade. Perched on a hill and now ghostly white, the 17th century temple offered an eerie vibe. Loud, somber music blaring from a crackling horn quickly broke the silence. A funeral hearse emerged. It was time to go.

It was when we got to Donsol, Sorsogon that it had really started to rain. Cold, hard, rain. Read the rest of this entry »

Words and Photos by Jan Michellardi

Perfect reading spot, outside Angkor Wat

It began early morning.

I have this belief that most memorable trips always begin early in the morning—when it is still dark and cold and there are not many people (or people you know) out in the street to see you go away. It’s the perfect getaway time. Nobody knows and the world is silent.

We were in Bangkok. In Rambuttri Road, a corner away from the famed Khao San, waiting for a taxi to take us to the bus station.

We were headed to Cambodia. Read the rest of this entry »