Sometimes, we get so enamored of a place that we go so far as to want to take home a bit of it. And while there are many intangible ways that we could carry a piece of a place with us, there come times that we prefer something substantial like, say, a bracelet or a keychain – the quintessential souvenirs – but for a place like Zamboanga City, where multiculturalism is the prevailing theme, there is, of course, a whole lot more fascinating choices. Here are five of them.

I already wrote about my recent visit to these islands in this comeback narrative (that’s over 2,000 words long but I’m so proud of it so I hope you could read it), but here are the essentials you need to know should you wish to see and experience these islands for yourself.

But before we proceed, please have a look at the Leave No Trace Principles:

Storytime is a series of  stories about my most memorable travel experiences. Read more here.

“If you were the sea,” I muttered, almost absentmindedly, as I slid off the prow of the pump boat, onto the island called Bisaya-Bisaya.

That morning in early October was like a borrowed summer day: the sun out; the sky a cloudless, faultless blue. As soon as the engine sputtered to a halt, the lull of waves and sea breeze took to playing in the background. I shielded my eyes, not from the sun, but from the sparkling, powdery shore that stretched on either side of where I stood – so white and reflective it was hard to look at without squinting. I then ambled to my companions who were heading toward the grove of coconut trees, away from the harsh mid-morning glare. Just before the trees began were masts of colorful vinta sails – a reminder that we were, indeed, still in the vibrant city of Zamboanga. We then found an array of wooden cottages, on which we deposited our things. Rid of bags, I turned on my heel and finally faced the sea.

The Philippines is full of picturesque destinations, and many of them haven’t been discovered by the many tourists that flock to the country each year. One such location is Osmeña Peak in the town of Dalaguete in the province of Cebu. It’s one of the best kept secrets of  the Central Visayas Region – a must-see for those who love absolutely gorgeous mountain views of the Philippines’ lush tropical landscape.

I must admit, I was quite relieved that I didn't get zapped by lightning or swallowed by the ground after my blasphemous comments (and thoughts) about the Monastery of the Transfiguration. But I guess I was inflicted with another kind of punishment: Hunger.

It was past noon and we hadn't had lunch. We'd been on the road for most of the morning, traveling from Cagayan De Oro to Bukidnon. Finally, we arrived in the latter's city center of Malaybalay.

Bukidnon's Kaamulan Festival began in the 70s when local leaders decided it was high time they put a spotlight on the province’s indigenous heritage. Its goal is mainly to bring together the seven original inhabitants of the province: the Bukidnon, Higaonon, Talaandig, Manobo, Matigsalug, Tigwahanon and Umayamnon.

Over the years, the festival had earned praises for being the "most authentic" and only truly ethnic festival in the country.

"Isn't that a subject in Hogwarts?" I asked.

Potpot, one of my companions, blinked. He proceeded to face the car window, ignoring me.

In the passenger seat, I heard Edgar snicker.

"Right?" I insisted, tapping Edgar in the shoulder for support.

Storytime is a series of  stories about my most memorable travel experiences. Read more here.

I was wearing a bikini top the whole time but my companions only took notice when I pulled my pants down.

"I thought that was a crop-top," Marky admitted.

Couldn't really blame them. Most of my normal clothes look like a bikini top. In the words of my friend Isa: the world shall know my pusod.

I digress.

Full but still tired from all the commute, I couldn't wait to get to our hotel. On our way back from High Ridge, we made a pitstop at a roadside fruit vendor (which was already closed, but we begged to be let in) to get some durian. I wasn't too enthused about it to be honest, but I still enjoyed the communal durian-feasting. We drank Coke after – to burp the icky smell of durian away – and since I was still hungry, I bought some bread from the bakery across the street.

In any case, after our evening dessert, we finally made our way to our hotel.