Weeks have gone since I’ve been on the mountains and I wanted so bad to forest-bathe. After a derailed trip one weekend to visit Mt. Makiling that turned out to just be a “traverse” of Angono to Cubao, my husband and I tried again on the Day of Valor.

There was a mighty roar but the path did not give. Tires kept spinning and engine kept revving but the “open” tricycle stayed in place. In this gravelly road, stones were now a-scatter, and a trio of grooves had been gouged.

It was an overcast kind of morning in the middle of March; the sky metallic and heavy. Kara and I were in the untold parts of Apayao, riding with two local women aboard this roofless trike. She rode with the driver, Kara did. The rest of us, along with our bags and a roll of linoleum, were in the side car.

For things illuminated, beauty is often a given. Light, after all, is necessary for sight. To be in the shadows and still be wondrous – now that’s rare. When my usual sleep-greedy self couldn’t wait to get out of bed, I knew I was somewhere special. 

I had suspicions of course. In daylight, when all were clear and bright, I watched how the tall grass gleamed with dew and sunfall, how they swayed mesmerizingly to the breaths of cool mountain air. Distant peaks lurked in the periphery. The land soared and dropped. Undulating. Rolling. 

After a day spent exploring (for the second time) Luna’s wonders, Kara (of Travel Up) and I rode to Pudtol to get to know Apayao more. Aboard a habal-habal, we sped past fields and patches of woods, punctuated here and there with the silvery branches and crimson blossoms of Bombax ceiba – my favorite native tree. I might’ve engaged my legs a little too much because there wasn’t enough footrest for two pairs of feet, but I was so enjoying the feeling of motion that I didn’t really notice how long it took us to get to RJ Domingo Fish Farm. All I remember was light has softened when we arrived. And there were also corn fields.

Face sweaty and streaked with dust, I dashed to our house. It was twilight. My mother had just called for me, and it meant the end of my playtime. I was nine, ten years old – barely out of elementary school. Rarely was I allowed outside, and I try to stick to the rules so I’d be allowed a next time. Even then, I knew I had to abide so that, later, I could give the world the finger.

Say “Luljetta’s” and images of a Bali-inspired spa come to mind: an infinity pool that looks out into the rolling terrain of Rizal, wooden huts, curtain vines, and batik robes. While it’s true that this is what made the Antipolo-based resort famous, there’s now a different side – both literally and figuratively – to Luljetta’s.

This is the tenth installment of the Spread the Impact series -- a collection of travel narratives and guides to less-traveled places in the Philippines, with the aim to spread human impact to the environment as well as uplift the lives of communities through tourism.

The landlocked province of Apayao has a terrain unlike the rest of the Cordillera. While its neighbors boast rolling hills and mountainous spaces, Apayao is marked by a crosshatch of river systems, spreads of farmlands, and a smattering of rock outcrops. The province, furthermore, remains largely unknown to those outside of its folds, often being confused with its then-half Kalinga with which, prior to 1995, it made up a single province aptly called Kalinga-Apayao.

Yet, with such an interesting landscape, it’s only a matter of time before it lures adventurers into its snare.

Take the town of Luna for example. With the bulk of government operations conducted here, you’d think it’s the provincial capital (it’s not, that’s Kabugao). But beyond this facade of administrative affairs lies a trove of incredible natural wonders.

You know how it is with travelers: we go to a place and there’s a compulsion to bring home a piece of it. Key chains and fridge magnets are fine, but sometimes we look for items that best embody the destination – something unique to it. So when riding the waves and countless photos aren’t sufficient, here are five souvenirs that would not fail to remind you of Baler.

One day is not enough for discovering Baler. There is so much to do in this seaside town – from surfing and chasing waterfalls, to farm tours and trying out local chocolate. At least an overnight stay is necessary to get to know this place. Fortunately, there are plenty of hotels and resorts available in town. Take your pick from the list below.

When I started traveling, Baler was one of the first places I’ve visited. Almost five years have passed since I’ve been to this side of Luzon; here where our GoPro (which, at that time, we’d just recently purchased) almost got lost in the waves. I’d skipped school (both as a professor and a student) just so I could come with Dennis and some of our high school classmates.