I hate myself.

That's it.

That's all I really wanted to say.

If you came here expecting some motivational crap because you're going through the same thing, well, buddy, all I can really offer you is some PikNik and perhaps this Spotify playlist, because music and junk food are the only things that do not feel like shit right now. No elegant strings of words here. Just a bunch of cussing and whining and bitching about this void of a life.

If you've encountered me recently, you wouldn't have outright thought I was trash. Don't take that personally – I thought I was not trash, too.

I now spend most of my days sleeping. You wanna know why? Because when I'm up, I feel anxious all the time, constantly on the verge of a panic attack, and junk food is the only thing that shuts that noise down. And I really don't want to eat junk food, because it means I would have to fuckin' exercise and when I do, I feel like I'm allowed to eat more junk food and that whole messed-up cycle is exhausting. So I just stay in bed, and now I haven't had any proper exercise but who the fucking cares.

I look in the mirror and cringe in disgust. I hate my face. I hate my hair. I hate my fucking knees. What's the point in keeping the upkeep? We're all going down.

And you know what? Thunder scares me now – a lot. I used to think it was just the gods going bowling, but, fuck, why is it so threatening all of a sudden?

The other day, I had trouble breathing and realized I was breathing the fucking wrong way. What kind of human garbage forgets how to fucking breathe properly?!

My jaws hurt from all the clenching it's been doing lately. I just want to rage. Break things. Stab myself, maybe. But when I look at my hands, they look so tired and it makes me reconsider. I don't know what that means but ok.

You might say, "Oh, but you have that documentary and all the other stuff. You should be excited!" First of all, I am excited. Secondly, it's myself that I hate, not the fucking planet, so don't you dare.

Others have it worse, fine, but does that make my woes invalid? Fucking shit, man. Is misery subject to such strict and absolute gradation that whining about the sky rumbling and junk food tasting so good must not be done out loud, lest you be branded an entitled, whiny millennial? 

Fuck you.

Fuck this shit.

The end.

One of the few landlocked towns of Antique is San Remigio. It doesn’t have the beaches or ocean views most of its neighbors have, but what it lacks in shores it more than makes up for in stunning rolling terrains. 

Located on the upper tip of Antique’s topography, Pandan is a town with plenty of surprises. Its name is derived not from the pandan plant as one would understandably think (although there’s no shortage of it here), but from an encounter with Spaniards in the days of yore – as is typical with Filipino town etymologies. 

Aboard Philippine Airlines’s flight to San Jose from Clark and chauffeured by Katahum Tours across Antique, I was able to experience some of the province’s offerings. I also got to stay at some of the province’s hotels and resorts. 

If you’re the planning a trip to Antique soon, here are some places to stay. 

Antique is one of the four provinces that make up Panay Island. It belongs to the Western Visayas region and opens up to the Sulu Sea.

The province’s geography runs at an almost straight line, but its terrain is composed of rolling hills and jagged peaks cut across by various waterways and bordered on one side by the ocean. With 18 municipalities, Antique has a lot to offer – from historical to modern comforts all the way to natural delights. If you’re planning to visit the province soon, below are some places to check out and activities to try.

Hey.

What’s up?

This here is an attempt. An effort to explain how much each of you means to me. Because I fear I may not be doing enough.

Let me start by saying this: every night I go to bed secretly wishing I wouldn’t wake up. To be offed in your sleep – that’s not a bad way to go, is it? Just – poof – it’s over. 

The island province of Marinduque is underrated. It deserves so much love for the variety of natural, cultural, and historical treasures it harbors. Located between the Tayabas Bay and the Sibuyan Sea, the place enjoys a host of beautiful beaches and stunning ocean vistas. It’s also where the Luzon Datum – the reference for all geodetic surveys in the country – can be found. Marinduque: The Heart of the Philippines – sounds about right. 

With more connectivity, exploring Marinduque has never been easier. If you’re traveling to the province anytime soon, I’ve compiled a list of places to check out in each of its six towns. 

The last time I’ve been to Marinduque – which was, what, five years ago? – it felt like a family vacation. I went with a grad school classmate of mine and stayed at their place so I wasn’t able to check out the accommodations on offer. On my return, aboard Cebu Pacific’s thrice-weekly flight to this island province, I was able to stay and see some of its prime hotels and lodgings.

If you’re visiting the Heart of the Philippines soon, here are some of the places you can stay at.

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

“I want to look my best,” I announced to my roommates, a bit defensively. “I’m going up the mountains.”

My right elbow was up. My hand on the side of my head, supporting the handle of the curling wand, which was setting a section of my hair into a coil.

“Okay,” said Kara, in that judgmental drawling way of her that I was already familiar with. She was kneeling on the mattress on the floor in the middle of the bamboo room, fixing her things. 

An arm’s length from me, sitting on Astrid’s bed, Mujee snickered, which startled me a bit. I'd forgotten he was there.

“Looks great,” chimed Astrid, smiling reassuringly.

After spending almost a week combing through Antique’s offerings, from tracing historical sites to spending my birthday at Seco Island, I decided I have had too much water and not enough ground. And so, on the 7th day, when I had the chance, I escaped to the mountains.

I went on my own and DIY’ed my way to get me my dose of hike. It was absolutely worth it.

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

To be still when all is in flux, to not move when all there is is motion, is a pleasure not everyone deigns to suffer. But that day, in the secret hours before dawn, as the fishing vessel sliced through the temperamental waters of the Sulu Sea, I let myself savor the calm.

It was dark. The steady drone of the boat’s engine and the messy splashes of the waves came together like needle and thread through cloth. There I was – on a frayed tarpaulin out on deck, tucked in the warmth of my friends’s bodies – a year older.

I don’t know what exactly happened down the road but I’ve always associated Antique with aswang, tiktik, and manananggal. For some reason, and I take it I’m not alone in this, I remember feeling a slight shiver upon hearing the name “Antique” when I was younger. And perhaps, it’s not wrong. Perhaps there are supernatural entities dwelling in the mostly unexplored folds of this province, but proving its truth (or otherwise) will require more time and a bottle (or three) of Gold Eagle, so let’s save that for later and instead focus on something less metaphysical: history. 

Scattered across Antique’s terrain are vestiges of a storied past, impressive reminders of its well-deserved place in the country’s overall historical landscape. Like trail markers from yesteryear, check out these slew of destinations and trace Antique’s vibrant origins. 

It has been five years since I’ve first been to Marinduque. The island province has been one of the first places I’ve traveled to, and one of the spots I got to check out back then was Gaspar Island.

The first time, I tagged along with my MBA classmate Ate May and she took care of everything, so, basically, I knew nothing. This time, I went with my husband, and Myong of Marinduque News, and DIY’ed our way to the island.

Getting to Marinduque has never been easier thanks to Cebu Pacific’s thrice-per-week flights from Manila. The flight cuts the almost 6-hour land/sea trip to just under an hour – you’ll spend more time in the airport than on the plane! This makes the Heart of the Philippines more accessible to intrepid travelers.

My recent trip to Marinduque was not only hassle-free (thanks to Cebu Pacific’s thrice-per-week flights to the island) but also eye-opening. I knew the Heart of the Philippines has a lot to offer, but, it turns out, I had no idea just how much.

I knew of its beaches and islands. I knew of Mt. Malindig. But I haven’t heard of its subterranean offerings. And Bagumbungan Cave was a pleasant surprise.

A few days ago, I saw this trailer of a local movie called “Banal”. It’s about a group of friends who decided to go up a mountain. In the movie, there are claims that once you reach the mountain’s peak, you could ask for a miracle and it would be granted – and this was apparently the motivation of one of the characters. However, what was supposed to be an adventure turned into some Blair Witch Project kind of wild. There was a lot of weird stuff going on in that trailer. There was some hacking and slicing of bodies. Lots of blood. Really unnerving. Check it out for yourself:

If you are to ask me right now what my top destinations are, Camiguin would be right up there along with Batanes, Catanduanes, and Apayao. I don’t know what it is about islands and motorcycles but three out of four involved exactly those. 

It’s been almost five months since my husband and I spent our first wedding anniversary in the outdoors. Teaming up with Earth Explorers Travel and Tours, we hiked through two of Bukidnon’s many mountains: Mt. Kitanglad, and Mt. Dulang-dulang. 

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

In the woods was a path lit up by new light, where branches crosshatched overhead. Panels of sun came through gaps in the tree trunks, like slender fingers gripping. Every surface was glazed with a glimmering sheen of yellow and green, and in the midst of all these was I. 

I'd like to tell you I was by myself, but I was with a whole team of outdoorsmen (and women). The line of hikers stretched before and behind me. It was the inaugural trek through Mt. Hibok-Hibok’s Itum trail, and the light was tripping fantastic.

I suppose, for a place known as the Island Born of Fire, I shouldn’t expect anything less.

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.

Subic has always been a popular tourist destination. It's got a lot up its sleeve when it comes to things do and places to visit. Should you head out to the "bay" anytime soon, here are some of the best places to stay in the area.

“People are the worst,” I sniff, burrowing myself in pillows.

I was angry and sad and ashamed from crying, but the load I was carrying all morning was weighing me down. I needed to break so I could put it away.

Spent from a day of trekking along the El Kabayo trail, our Lakbay Norte 8 crew proceeded for check in. The group was separated boys vs. girls, and we, being the superior gender (fight me) were billeted in this charming piece of comfort at the heart of Subic Bay.

Subic, to me, had always meant duty-free. Shopping. Imported goods. Seaplanes (for some reason). And AFAMs (yep, I went there again. Can’t help it. Sorry). Yet amid retail black holes and fieldtrip destinations, a couple of out-of-the-ordinary activities exists in the freeport zone.

Let me be honest: the whole “Clark” thing got me so confused that I almost didn’t write this article. See, I thought Clark was a town in Pampanga when, in fact, it was the Clark Freeport Zone (CFZ) which spans towns from both Pampanga (Angeles, Mabalacat, and Porac) and Tarlac (Capas, and Bamban). This article is about the Pampanga side of Clark. I guess. No, seriously. I’m still a little disoriented, but let us soldier on.

If we are to pile all the coins I’ve spent on toilet stops, I’m pretty sure it could cover – at the very least – a roundtrip ticket to Catanduanes. I wish I could tell you I’m exaggerating, but with how frequent I travel plus the fact that I think I might’ve early onset incontinence, my Roadside Relief Budget is kind of a big deal.

Confession time: I haven't really considered getting flights to and from Clark.

I thought, "Commuting to NAIA is bad enough. Why would I submit myself to even more commuting?" Never mind the fact that Clark flights are relatively cheaper compared to those in NAIA, plus more and more routes are opening up — to me, it was just too far.