Tired and cold from the previous night's hike from the city center to our homestay located in a village deep in the hillside of Sapa, I exulted at the sight of sunlight creeping in our spacious second floor room. Because this means the temperature is hovering near 10 degrees compared to the almost 2 or negative 2 degrees that chilled us the night before when I lay shaking even under a thick blanket. 

It was around lunch time just as the sun was at its peak when I got off from the tuktuk at the roadside fronting a small hill. I followed my hastily written direction jotted down on a torn paper that led me to a spiral trail leading to the top of a coconut plantation tucked inside a forest—to where I assumed the Templeberg Villa is perched. The 3-hour train ride from Colombo left me with high spirits as I enjoyed every bit of scenery along the way. But along came with it; a weary body screaming for a soft bed and a short nap before I begin my exploration of the city of Galle. I hiked a couple hundred meters and while on the verge of huffing and puffing I saw a man by the door near a sign that says Villa Templeberg. He waved at me and gestured something until he disappeared inside. 

My Spacious Room at Villa Templeberg

I know its 'winter' in the northern part of Vietnam at the time I arrived there middle of December last year. I remember sleeping at the airport upon arrival with two layers of jacket until I was woken up by a freezing burst of wind I thought was emanating from the air-conditioning system. I looked around and saw the source of the cold - the automatic door that remained open. When I arrived at the old french quarters of Hanoi that morning I welcomed the 12 degree Celsius cold with delight, it was my first time to experience that kind of cold - in a city setting outside of my trips to Sagada and Mount Pulag - which are both in the highlands, before. 

"Next time we see those, can you please stop the car so I could take a picture" I said to Monnette as we make a pass at those colorful miniature windmills by the side of the road. We're in Tagaytay already and the sky can never get bluer than what is above us that day. If the air has a texture it would be two notch smoother than the air from where we came from. I've never spent a night at Tagaytay before, just a handful of daytrips and nary of a chance to wake and feel its morning dew on my feet. This time though, an invite to stay at Taal Vista Hotel will mark that first time. 

In a four-fold piece of paper, New Delhi should be jotted around the first folded part. It was day 7 or 8 of our 25-day peregrination around India when we arrived at this capital city. Still reeling from a hangover of amazement developed by our feasting of the eyes over the sight of Taj Mahal in Agra, I expect to be taken aback by New Delhi the same way Kolkata blew me away with its tremendous amount of street activities and noise. 

I've been on a river rafting ride three times already, each one not washing-up away any of the excitement, every ride brings forth a feeling of thrill and a sense of adventure. Although this was a somber version compared to my first river rafting experience in CDO, where Lot, Tina and I opted for the 'wild' ride - which we tumbled and experienced the 'washing machine' effect at least half a dozen times, I still enjoyed this ride I had with my fellow #TravelMindanao buddies. Our party of eight were divided into two rafts so I ended up with Lisa Marie, Alex and Doi while Ferdz, Shugah, Glen and Nathalie boarded the other raft where they were joined by our new travel buddies Audrey and Teckie. 

The kids of Chavayan are alright

Reserve your seat for the remaining Culinary Gems dates at Cafe Veranda Taal Vista Hotel

Ever since I came home from Sri Lanka my lower back has been bothering me. It isn't painful but the muscles kinda stiffen each time I would stand. It also doesn't help doing most of my work sitting in front of my laptop - reason why my back screams of a soothing therapy. I'm not big on the art of massage that I even skipped getting one at Khao San Road in Bangkok a couple of years ago. However, upon prodding from my girlfriend Monnette and an invite to try out Nuat Thai's newest branch located at Banawe Street in Quezon City, the universe conspired for my body to get its well deserved treatment after numerous miles of backpacking abuse on the road.

Here I am sipping a hot cup of Dilmah tea on a gloomy afternoon. I know for sure that It will take a while before I start writing in lengthy narrative about my Sri Lanka trip. I'm still simmering the wonderful memories on my mind. It's been quite a year so far, after India I have no idea I would double-up on it with a follow-up trip to this beautiful tear-drop shaped nation brimming with cultural and historical wealth, capped off by its friendly people. Other than the 5 kilos of tea which I brought home, I am more grateful to amassing a new set of perception that finally replaced the image of the brutal civil war I used to associate with Sri Lanka. 

It was at Agra–our third city stop in India–where I looked behind me and saw the couple seated next table relishing an interesting looking plate filled with assorted dishes. We asked the waiter what it was. "That is Thali ma'am and sir" replied the amiable restaurant staff. Without further ado, I ordered one for myself while Aileen, still worried about contracting diarrhea ordered something else. For starters like myself, Thali (means 'plate') is an Indian and Nepali meal that consists of varying dishes like vegetable curry dish, dal, rice, papad and curd or yogurt and is served on a large round plate. 

After my temple run concluded in Yogyakarta, I went back to Jakarta for a couple of days before my Cebu Pacific flight back to Manila. At the hostel I met two other Filipinas who became my accidental tourist buddies. Since we're all going home the same night, we decided to spend our last day just roaming the city aboard a tuktuk, stopping for some sights and shopping along the way. After walking out of the National Monument park (Merdeka Square), we were approached by a thin middle age man wearing blue slacks and tucked in polo, introducing himself as an employee of the local tourism office.

One of the many amazing things about traveling is the opportunity to meet new people on the road. During my trip to Hanoi I met Hoang, a cheerful woman who works at one of the many Sihn Tourist offices in the city. Recommended by another traveler friend Jerik, I sought her out after I arrived to avail of a Halong Bay and Sapa tours. We met and conducted business but by the end of our transaction she unexpectedly extended an invitation for me to join her and some friends for a dinner at her place. Shy and feeling a bit paranoid brought on by a number of Asian gore movies, a series of images involving hack saw, chains and giant hammers flashed before me. "Hello Mark, you want to come yes?" as Hoang tapped me on my arm with a glistening smile and I was back to real world. "Sure, what time? I would love to go" I told her.

A series of flashing bulbs always lit up inside my brain each time I hear the term 'boutique hotel'. As a veteran of sleeping in dingy hotels devoid of management's proper planning and an architect's imagination, I welcome the idea of staying in a fancy nest. So, coming to Azumi Boutique Hotel in Alabang on the day of the 2014 Globe TattAwards (where this travel blog was a finalist for the third straight year), my expectations are sky high. House and hotel interiors always look better in pictures, so I was curious to see how Azumi would look like in actuality. 

 "... here at Sarnath he turned twelve wheels of Dharma ..."

"Keep in mind this most beautiful wood,

named by the great rishi,

where ninety-one thousand kotis of Buddhas

formerly turned the Wheel.

This place is matchless, perfectly calm,

contemplating, always frequented by deer.

In this most beautiful of parks,

whose name was given by the rishi,

I will turn the holy Wheel." 

-Voice of the Buddha

Tucked within the busy streets of Jaipur, is an architectural marvel standing pyramidal 50 feet high—of red and pink sandstone—adorned with 953 jharokha windows designed intricately with latticework. Built in 1799 under the orders of Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh, the Hawa Mahal ("The Palace of the Winds") was designed by the architect of Jaipur city Lal Chand Ustad and is an example of Rajput Architecture prevalent in the state of Rajasthan. In the olden times, peeking behind those windows were the royal ladies practicing the purdah—observing the happenings on the street without getting seen. The direction to which the windows of Hawa Mahal opens to allows a strong breeze of wind to cool the hallway measuring just the width of an arm.

I first heard of Gawad Kalinga as a non-government organization that builds houses for the homeless all over the country. Soon, I realize that their goals are bigger than any wooden shed, canopy or pillars they have erected before. Theirs is an organization that unearths the root of poverty with the intent of severing it from the ground to let a new stem of development grow into various spurts, eventually spreading all over the country. We were seated at the souvenir shop of the GK Enchanted Farm while satisfying our thirst with their in-farm product "Bayani Brew", when an unassuming middle age man in plain blue GK polo shirt, blue pants and sandals sat in front of us. The moment he started talking we were all ears. Clementine, a French intern at the farm interrupted him briefly addressing him as "Tito Tony". It finally rang a bell, Tony Meloto - the founder of Gawad Kalinga whom I've heard and read so much before is seated in front of us.

'Uncle' Tony Meloto is considered as a 'rock star' in the world of social development

Instinctively or intentionally, the giant creature known as the 'creator of all things' strew countless poppy and sunflower seeds over a bowl of water. With a puzzled look on their faces, his guests wondered if these were meant for the hot bread served on the table. Before someone could raise a question, dozens of graceful belly dancers entered the room bringing free flowing wine and soon the purpose of the poppy and sunflower seeds were forgotten. Over time—like thousands of years later—the scattered seeds evolved into thousands of limestone karsts spread over more than 1,500 square kilometers of Ha Long Bay. 

I know it's completely ridiculous to choose just ten as the best places to photograph in the Philippines from the endless list of stunning locations I've set foot in the past. Also, I've yet to visit other equally and even more visually orgasm inducing locations - but I've heard the echoes of oohs and aahs originating from my well traveled friends. I hope someday to add more to this list. Meanwhile, these are the places that gave my wanna-be-photographer pants some wet spots by experiencing the equivalent of a non-sexual wet dream, while shooting the most eye popping landscape and seascape one can imagine. 

First on the list is the rolling hills of Batanes: 

Since our first meeting and eventual foodtripping in Binondo three weeks ago, Monnette and I had been hitting various eating places like Bonnie and Clyde without the Gatling guns, but armed only with unmatched appetites. She had taken me on these long stretch of gastronomical delights along Maginhawa Street in Quezon City, the previous week. So one night I pitched the idea of exploring another street known for its many choices of dining places; Kapitolyo or Capital Drive in Pasig City.

My fascination of going to India started even before I was bitten by the travel bug. Five to six years ago I deemed of going there as almost next to impossible as there are many factors to consider; the long haul flight and expensive airfare, being tied up with a corporate job and for a country as big as India - a mere 5 day trip just won't cut it, unless you go there just to see the Taj Mahal at Agra. However, circumstances have a strange way of conspiring to bring me to the country I longed sought to see.

Apart from the thousands of limestone karst and small isles dotting the whole of Halong Bay, there are small islands that also provides additional attraction like the Dau Go Cave (Wooden Stakes Cave). According to a local story, while planning a counter attack against their Mongolian enemies in 1288, the men of General Tran Hung Dao hid an enormous number of wooden stakes inside this cave. The wooden stakes were then streamed into the Bach Dang River to serve as obstacles against the attacking Mongols. It was a risky plan that tricked the enemy, as the men of Kublai Khan got entangled with the wooden stakes while crossing through the treacherous river bed, drowning a number of Mongolian warriors. 

Remember the two ladies who made a cameo on my flight-to-Jakarta narrative? well they stayed in the capital of Indonesia while I took a train to Yogyakarta. I thought the story ended there but to my wonderful surprise I bumped into them again a few days later. After spending 4 days at Yogyakarta I went back to Jakarta for the tail-end of my trip and ended up staying at the same hostel as these two lovelies. They answers to the name of Tania Gonzales and Carmel So. I was downstairs of the hostel at the lounge working on my laptop when I saw them come down, I almost fell out of my seat and just froze. I heard about them talking about eating in a Korean Restaurant before they walked out the door. 

We were viewing the Taj Mahal from a spot where according to local myth, was the place where the Black Taj was supposed to be built, when these kids eagerly posed and asked us to take some photographs of them. In a heartwarming display of child-like wonder and innocence came a very humbling image of these kids, while living within simple means, could still convey such happiness amidst the background of the ultimate symbol of love - the Taj Mahal.

Anytime you find your way to the world's largest Buddhist temple in the world, you feel like toasting your kismet for bringing you there. Just the mere fact of stepping foot on a structure built with stunning craftmanship and creativity dating back to the 9th century, is already a significant moment for myself. Borobudur is the primary reason why I journeyed to the city of Yogyakarta—which at the time was my longest train ride—from Jakarta. It was one of those place forever etched in my mind as something I must see.

Seated among other travel writers inside a van, we advanced further inland of Capiz province. As we passed by the scenic countryside my mind seem to wander towards the fourth fight of Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez, which at that time was about to happen in a few minutes. I was somehow unexcited about our next destination, a cave called Lahab Cave located at the town of Dumalag - around 45 klicks south of Roxas City. Little do I know that a shocker of a boxing result and a charming cave which exceeded my expectation, awaits me in a few hours. 

A lot of factors help us psyche up our upcoming travels. From movies, to novels, to travel articles, it all paint an image in our mind of how our trips will go down. Most of the time we end up experiencing a series of bumps on the road, sometimes the polar opposite of it, depending on which you expect, either such adventurous epic failure-filled wandering or a walk in the park stroll throughout the path you drew on your itinerary map. During my recent 25-day trip to India, I actually expected the worst, I bought along dozens of anti-diarrhea medicine and a mosquito repellent (my first time ever to buy one). You wonder how I came into that expectations? well, count the number of films, books and travel articles that depicted India as one big chaotic nation BUT with cultural, religious and gastronomical offerings to provide feasts to all senses. I got the last part right, the rest? I was surprised to experience no unnecessary trips to the bathroom even if I feasted on Indian food, almost nary of a mosquito bite and was never harassed nor scammed. 

Tucked underground of  Taman Sari Water Castle is a mosque accessible only in the past by a maze of underwater passageways. I first heard of it's existence from my friend Gaye Emami. a few days before I left Manila for Jakarta. The moment she described it, I was instantly fascinated. I must never leave Yogyakarta without seeing this mosque, I dared myself. The place wasn't easy to find as there are no signs saying "Underground Mosque this way --->". Following a hunch, I followed a group of young Indonesian students who seems to be on a field trip, as they trudge through the back alleyways of Taman Sari. I saw them debating which direction to take, so I reckon they were also trying to find the mosque. I tried asking a local but unfortunately, she couldn't understand English, so I chased the group of students as they entered a small arched hallway. Inside, we had to duck our heads so as not to hit the ceiling and after a short length of striding and bending forward, we met a dead-end wall.

Finding a place to stay in Metro Manila sometimes becomes a challenge especially for the budget conscious traveler. However, if you know where to look you will probably come across this small boutique hotel near the heart of Eastwood City in Libis, Quezon City. It was a toxic month work-wise when I stayed here for the weekend with my friend Cher. With nothing else to do but to down the tall bottle of vodka she bought, we holed up inside our cozy two-level loft, with the intention of achieving a massive hangover the next day.