Baler is the birthplace of surfing in the Philippines. Once a laid-back coastal town on the eastern side of Central Luzon in the Philippines, surfing has since pinned it on the tourist map, bringing in tourists, quirky restaurants, and posh hotels on its shore. Besides surfing, this small town in the Province of Aurora also boasts of a few historic sites—being the birthplace of Manuel L. Quezon—a spread of beaches, interesting rock formations, waterfalls and lighthouses.

While the town of Baler is but a small spot in the whole of Aurora, it has since become the starting point and base of operations for touring the region. From here, visitors can check the nearby municipalities of Maria Aurora, Dipaculao, and San Luis, all the way up to the farther reaches of Dingalan, Dinalungan, Casiguran, and Dilasag. For the purpose of this travel guide, I would be limiting the scope to those areas readily accessible from Baler.

The waves weren’t as strong as I remember it to be, yet there were still a few bodies paddling across the darkening waters of Baler, hoping to catch one last swell before calling it a day. On the horizon, the silhouette of the Sierra Made mountain range was capped in wispy clouds, and above, a hue of pink glowed across an overcast twilight. Us, we were happy just to be here, sprawled on the sand, with spicy chips on one hand and bottles of beer on another.

BACK IN BALER AFTER FOUR  YEARS

It was my third time to visit Baler in Aurora Province; the first time was with office friends, the second, a tour. This latest one has a much more meaningful purpose—we were here to do a coastal clean-up of Baler’s famous surfing spot, Sabang Beach.

It’s my second time in Baler and I was trying to better the landscape photos that I took from the same place more than a year ago. Although I came prepared with the proper filters and microfiber cloth for sea spray this time, the light just wasn’t there when we checked out Aniao Islets; I failed to capture the images that I have in mind for the second time.

Redemption came a few hours later as we set foot at Cemento Beach. Surfer waves and craggy rock landscapes is what Baler is in my book, so I was surprised to find a causeway that has fallen in disrepair in the area. I haven’t seen this part of Baler in the worldwideweb and we were lucky enough to have the light bloom into godrays the moment we stepped on the beach. It isn’t the iconic Baler landscape that I was looking for, but it is good enough until my next Baler escapade.

THIS BALER WEEKEND TOUR WAS MADE POSSIBLE THRU PROJECT DORA

After posting an article about Maria Aurora’s 600-year old Balete tree, I received a pretty strange message from one of my readers, it reads:

     hi christian, what's your email add where i can send you the two pictures you've taken where you captured
     ghosts and elementals... unbeknownst to you. thanks 

     - cielykaye     
 

It was four in the morning and I just got home from work, it was still dark, everybody was asleep and I was the only one downstairs; the hair at the back of my neck stood on end. I caught supernatural beings on my camera? Seriously?

I was scared to see what I got but I was also very very curious about it. So I went ahead and gave her my address.

The reply I got consisted of two photos, here’s a cleaned up version of it:

Dubbed locally as the Millennium tree, this huge Balete located on one of Maria Aurora’s dirt roads has been attracting the attention of local visitors of Baler.

It is unimaginably huge that it would take 60 adult individuals, holding hands together, to fully encircle its trunk. It’s massiveness becomes evident as my friends started walking towards it, they looked like little kids beside the tree.

Balete trees wrap themselves like parasites on the trunks and branches of a host tree. And this is an excellent example of what happens over time, the original tree in the middle is now gone, leaving a hollow inside the Balete.

A passage between its twisted roots allows visitors to even access this hollow; it fitted all six of easily inside. It was dark, hot and humid at the core of the Balete with only shafts of light passing through its roots illuminating its creepy interior.

The sun was waking up. The horizon was glowing with an intense orange tint as street dogs watch our car howl through the crispy morning air of Dipaculao’s empty streets.

The sky still had traces of the grand sunrise we witnessed while on the road as we hurriedly got out of the car and headed straight to the booming sounds emanating from the shore.

Almost like a deconstructed karsts, the jagged rocks jutting out of the waters of Ampere Beach in Dipaculao stand proudly against the massive crashing waves as we tried to walk briskly on its stony beach.

We visited Ampere Beach the day before, but the light was too flat then; this time we at least got some colors to compliment the dark rock formations along the shore.

After a day of shooting rocks and smashing into enormous waves, we decided to cap our second day in Baler by risking our lives and cross the rickety hanging bridge traversing the Tibag-Sabang River.

Heights really don’t scare me and hanging bridges are supposed to be fun. So I was not worried one bit when our good host, V, told us that we’re gonna cross one; I thought to myself, no problem, piece of cake.

We arrived at a rather remote place in Baler, parked our car, and headed up the concrete steps to our next rendezvous; I gazed up from the stone steps and came into full view of the bridge we’re gonna cross. It is the longest freaking hanging bridge I’d ever seen.

Rose from bed late, ate breakfast late, and went off the road late; that’s what happens when you don’t get enough sleep.

Typhoon Chedeng arrived with blasting winds, forcing power shutdowns throughout the whole province of Aurora; the gang was up through the night, drinking coffee (we were unable to buy alcohol, every store was already closed), munching on super chili peanuts and swapping stories. Suffice it is to say, the planned sunrise shoot at Digisit Bay was held off.