SOLO FLIGHT

After working my brains off in my Singapore base, I finally decided I had enough. Work was underwhelming me, and despite shooting numerous assignments all over Asia and Europe for the last year, I had developed an intense longing for home. I had to admit – I missed the warm, dusty air of the Philippines, its rampaging jeepneys, its happy people and its spectacular scenery. I missed the taste of our food and the sound of our music, and the cheap beer and the Pinoy sense of humor. So much so that I wished for the chance to leave everything and backpack around my country, the way I had done elsewhere in the world.

Luckily I got my chance. Under the banner of SMART, Wolfpac Mobile and Sony Ericsson, we launched a unique project called the MMS Travel Diary, which documented, through the use of the S700I 1.3 megapixel cameraphone and SMART’s mobile network, a month that I spent roaming around the Philippines. This journey started last February 1 and ended on the 28th. Our aim is to share my experiences on the road to cellphone users nationwide – in real time, just as they happened.

And so, with little more than a camphone and a camera stuffed into my backpack, I headed towards a dusty bus station along Taft Avenue at four o’clock one morning to begin my solo flight.

Day 1: Taal, Batangas – The screeching of bus brakes and the roaring of tricycle engines. These were what greeted me the moment I stepped onto M. Apacible Street, the main avenue that leads to the heart of the historic municipality of Taal. Having been here just a few years ago, I knew very well the impact of modernization on Batangas’ famous heritage town, its once-sleepy streets that used to host clip-clopping calesas now replete with the sounds of modern transportation. Because of its proximity to Manila (it takes two hours to get here by car), however, Taal gave me a good opportunity to "ease into" the road warrior lifestyle. After getting here at around 7 a.m., I checked into a cozy little ancestral-home-cum-pension-house called Casa Punzalan, then sauntered out to explore these storied streets.

The first on my must-photograph list were, of course, the countless antique houses that populated every other streetcorner. These homes with their capiz windows and antillian facades used to belong to the old rich Batangueño families who made their fortunes from the coffee trade. I also photographed other trademark Batangas emblems – namely the handwoven embroideries called burda and those notorious balisong fan-knives, whose factories lay at the outskirts of town. By the end of the day I have had my fill of the classic Taal visitors’ experience, except for one important detail: Despite the numerous eateries and canteens all over town, kapeng barako was nowhere to be found!

Day 2: Puerto Galera, Oriental Mindoro – "Everything’s expensive in White Beach. You can’t get a room there for less than a thousand pesos!", warned a smiling tricycle driver as we putted toward the famous resort area of Puerto Galera in Oriental Mindoro. From Taal it took me a jeepney and a ferry ride across the Batangas Bay to get here, and I was searching for a place to spend the night. He was wrong, as it later turned out. At a place called White Beach Resort, I found good value at eight hundred pesos for a large room that came with aircon and cable TV.

After setting down I set out to work – if you can call it that – walking along white beach and photographing the sights in this short stretch of idyllic shoreline. In contrast to other beaches I’ve visited around Asia, Puerto Galera’s White Beach had a rather quiet charm, its version of restaurant row happily lacking the thinly veiled sleaziness – or the crass commercialism – of places like Phuket or Pattaya. Foreign tourists were everywhere, sharing the sand with beachwear vendors, fishermen, massage hawkers and local kids. It was a good indication, perhaps of this town’s healthy dollar-driven tourism industry.

Day 3: Roxas, Oriental Mindoro – Had it not been for its location as a gateway to my next destination and the fact that our college barkada once vacationed here, I probably wouldn’t be in Roxas. This small community at the Southern end of Mindoro still feels like the place that I visited some six years ago.

Nevertheless, I noticed quite a few changes here. At the Dangay village, a few kilometers outside town, a cluster of native restaurants and bars have opened up, giving competition to the once-solitary KTV bar where we used to hang out. Credit that to the spanking new ro-ro short for the roll-in-roll-out sea ferry, which carries both vehicles and people) pier that was built nearby, which brought a stream of transient visitors to this sleepy town.

Day 4: Boracay! — What can I say – I just had to drop by this place. At early February the wind was cool and the weather was sunny, and tourist season was still a month away. This was the perfect time to be in the country’s number one destination, its powdery white coastline not too crowded and its resorts hawking rooms at low rates.

It was a good thing that this island teemed with character, for despite my countless visits here it still remained an interesting place. The talipapa which was razed just a few weeks before was still there in a way, thanks to its stall owners who set up shop near their market’s original location. I roamed White Beach throughout the day, capturing its moods and nuances on my camera. At sunset I zeroed in on surfer dudes who skimmed the almost waveless water with their surfboards, and those countless paraw sailboats parked on sand. By dinner time it was mission accomplished: I feasted on fresh seafood and capped my quick stopover here with a Tabacalera cigar.

Day 5: Pandan, Antique – It was hard work dragging my butt off Boracay at 6 a.m. but it had to be done. From the mainland jump-off point at Caticlan, it was a one-hour, two-bus-ride affair that brought me past stunning cliffside views of the sea, down verdant ricefields and finally to the remote municipality of Pandan, where SMART employees had helped organize a community-based tourism project to support the rural folk along Bugang River.

This body of water was no ordinary river, I was told. It is, in fact, regarded as the cleanest in the country, its pristine waterways snaking down the Pandan countryside with its life-giving benefits. Accompanied by a cheerful municipal tourism officer, we trekked to its source – an impossibly blue pool of water that welled from an underground spring. Visible through the crystalline liquid were the green, leafy underwater plants that are said to act as Bugang River’s natural filters.

That afternoon I joined a fleet of fishermen as they made their way down river to the open sea. Paddling with Eduardo, a local government official who fished for his family’s dinner, I was able to see this river up close – and realize how important it was to those who lived around it.

"The Bugang River feeds our families. It waters our plants and gives drink to our livestock. With our community’s new eco-tourism program, it now furnishes us with another source of income," said Eduardo. "These waters are a gift to us. That’s why we strive to take care of it."

Day 6: Iloilo City – After six sleepy hours on a bus ride, I found myself amidst bustling fairgrounds inside Iloilo City’s Jaro district, observing a rather quirky game of roulette in progress. On a wide checkered board, bettors (again mostly kids) would wager on the roll of oversized wooden dice, or that classic guess-which-house-the-mouse-is-going-into play. The town fiesta had just been concluded, and this was the last day of festivities. This being the home of the celebrated Ilonggo delicacies, however, I had more than just festivals on my agenda. I raided the local foodie places, among them Ted’s La Paz Batchoy restaurant, and the Jaro Biscocho Haus.

Iloilo was a charming city with its old world appeal, its sumptu