A moustached manong wearing his cap backwards was up on a tree, oblivious to everything. He was plucking rambutans from way up, throwing them down on a patched pail on the ground as soon as his hands become full. We were at Nica Farm in Antique and it was my first time to see rambutans on its native settings.

►CHECK OUT: ANTIQUE TRAVEL GUIDE

A CARABAO TETHERED TO A RAMBUTAN TREE

The day was slightly overcast as we arrived at Barangay La Paz in the town of Tibiao, but we never did mind. Nica Farm is located on a lush patch of land in Antique. While my idea of a farm, growing up in Cabanatuan City, is of rice fields; this particular one, while has its share of carabaos, has no fields at all.

►SEE: CABANATUAN TRAVEL GUIDE

Garbed in white, black, and brown coats, the goats in a farmland somewhere in Gerona, Tarlac stared curiously at our group as we went pass their pens. It was the second day of the Microtel Tara Quin Tarlac tour and the first itinerary for the day was, much to everyone’s surprise, a goat farm.

KESONG PUTI AND PANDESAL AT THE JSJ GOAT FARM

We were told beforehand to limit our breakfast at Microtel Luisita since we’d be having another one at the JSJ Goat Farm in the town of Gerona. While I really have no aversion to anything goat, I surmised that we’d be having goat cheese at the said farm. And I was right, kesong puti made from goat milk and pandesal started to make its rounds as we sat down near the farm’s entrance.

►SEE: TARLAC ITINERARY

“Let me take you down, coz I’m going to Strawberry Fields…” The classic Beatles song was floating over my head as I asked around Baguio’s Burnham Park on how I can commute to the famous Strawberry Field in La Trinidad, Benguet via jeepney. My budget was really limited so I was avoiding taxicabs like the plague.

I would have walked all the way to the La Trinidad if it was not so freaking far by foot. The strawberry plantation is located more than ten kilometers out from Baguio City; it might take me half the day to reach it. I’ve been to the place twice before and I really didn’t find the road going there to be that scenic, so I felt it’s gonna be a waste of time if I do my usual long jaunt.

Second time in Ifugao and first time to hike Batad. I’ve heard about how it’s not your regular walk in the park; the trail was fog-ridden and the ground was wet and muddy. Ifugao farmers bringing in meticulously harvested rice pass us once in a while as we made our slow way through the narrow steps of the Batad Rice Terraces. I was torn between watching my footing and the fantastic view beyond the chasm.

THE IFUGAO HERITAGE WARRIOR CARAVAN RUN IS A FIVE-DAY FAMILIARIZATION TOUR ORGANIZED BY PHILTOA

I found myself thinking about my travels a few days ago while having my morning coffee; it has exactly been a month since I last had a real long trip. Later that same afternoon, I got a call from PHILTOA asking if I wanted to join a tour of the Ifugao the next day. The answer of course was obvious, most especially since I won’t be spending a single cent for the trip.

Fast forward 36 hours later and I’m staring dumbstruck at the veranda of our room in Banaue. The photo above is a tribute to my very first camera, my Canon Powershot S3IS which had been an invaluable tool that literally changed the direction of my life. The photo is one of the last photographs it captured today as its internal sensor finally gave out.

THE IFUGAO HERITAGE WARRIOR CARAVAN RUN IS A FIVE-DAY FAMILIARIZATION TOUR ORGANIZED BY PHILTOA

Afternoons are my favorite time to take a leisurely stroll at the rice fields across our house in Cabanatuan.

Passing through a neighbor’s yard and crossing a makeshift stick bridge, I’m immediately transported from the newly paved road of Buliran to an expansive vista of nothing but rice fields.
The dirt path runs parallel to the setting sun far west of the horizon. I can count on my single hand the number of times the sun did not impress me during its retreat at the ends of the earth.

Most times, I walk these roads alone. The fields empty except for some cows and carabaos; an occasional human zooming on bikes and tricycles passing through once in a while to break my solitude.

I used to pretend to be a farmer when I was a kid. I’d wake up at 5am with my cousins; watch them milk our carabaos, go to the farm with them to buy duck eggs, and after breakfast, go back to the fields and pretend to harvest the endless golden fields of Cabanatuan with them.
Ever since picking up a camera, I have for the longest time wanted to capture the memories of harvesting the rice fields of my youth. I somehow always arrive too early; the fields just recently planted or too late, when only the stumps of rice stalks are all there are left.

The days that were supposed to be my rest from my impromptu week-long sojourn through the northern parts of Luzon turned into another week of adventure at the opposite end of the island. The question that greeted me as I put down my bag: “We’re going off to Bicol in a few hours, wanna tag along?”

I could not say no. I was unpacking and repacking my bags, charging my cams, transferring photos, finishing odds and ends and before I knew it we were rolling towards Southern Luzon.

Five raging waterfalls, innumerable treks, a smoldering hot spring, one chilly cold spring resort, two beaches, a sprawling deer farm, one mountain, countless wakeboards, two awkward spills, and numerous local dishes; it was infinitely better than resting.

We got invited a couple of months ago to a friend’s place in San Rafael, Bulacan. Not really known as a tourist locale, we basically went there just to hang out.

Besides the fact that I pass the town of San Rafael whenever I go to my hometown at Cabanatuan City in Nueva Ecija, I know zero about it. So I consulted Wikipedia. It reported that San Rafael is a first class municipality in Bulacan with agriculture as its main livelihood.

It’s about an hour and a half by bus from Manila and we arrived there late in the afternoon. After a quick snack, we immediately set up the table under mango trees for an impromptu bonding drinking session. But before things got out of hand, we first watched the sun burn the sky to orange at the back lot of our friend’s house which opens to a sprawling newly harvested rice field. It was a quick, but nevertheless, fiery sunset.

Making up for the lost opportunities of the previous day, we decided to wake up early the next day; we were up at exactly four in the morning. With only four hours sleep, we groggily went about collecting our things and were soon walking into the cold dawn looking for a tricycle willing to transport us to Candaba’s Bird Sanctuary. 

We eventually got two tricycles and after much haggling, we agreed at a price of Php130.00 each.

It was on the tail end of the bird migration season when we set off for the low-lying fields of Candaba in Pampanga.

Departing Manila at lunchtime, we alighted at the San Fernando exit to drop by the local mall first to buy some supplies (and Pampanga Starbucks mug, hehe) for our supposedly overnight stay at the Candaba Swamp.

We reached the town of Candaba at around four in the afternoon and immediately headed to the fields where the Pelayo Resthouse, where we were supposed to stay for the night, was located. Everything had already been arranged, having called ahead, so we expected everything to go smoothly as planned.

A ten minute walk from my grandma’s place is another of my favorite place to shoot and hang out during sunset; the expansive Buliran ricefields.

It was drizzling on and off during our first day at Cabanatuan and I wasn’t expecting much for a shoot since it was still pouring come afternoon. So when the rain unexpectedly subsided, I quickly packed my gear off and excused myself for an afternoon at the rice paddies. 

It’s a tradition with our family to travel back to my mother’s hometown in Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija on the first day of the year and spend a few days there to catch up with our faraway relatives.

A four-hour north ride from Manila aboard a Cabanatuan bound bus and a half-hour tricycle ride and we’re there.

Nueva Ecija has been tagged as the rice capital of the Philippines due to it’s vast plains filled by endless fields of rice paddies.  Farming is the basic way of life in this part of the country.  Everybody has a parcel of land and everyone owns a carabao to till it with.  Not really an easy way of life but a noble one nevertheless.