I Feel Like a New Person...Again

In the past year, I made several conscious changes with regards to how I live my life and how I make an impact. I continued to assume a digital nomad lifestyle, which meant working from wherever my laptop is and being based wherever my backpack is. Also, I switched to a vegetarian diet wherein I no longer eat red meat (pork, beef), white meat (chicken) and seafood (fish, shells), as well as eggs and milk. Lastly, I started to pursue a zero-waste lifestyle by refusing single-use plastics (straws, cups, bags) and by buying from public markets instead of from supermarkets.

With these changes, I felt more aligned with my personal values. And this is probably the first time that I stopped considering "what I should be doing" and accepted that "what I want to be doing" is entirely different.

Living Nomadic

A few years ago, I made the decision to travel full-time and to live locally (rather than touristy) wherever I am. I realized that nothing actually required me to stay in Manila. I was already working remotely with no physical office I had to report to, and I was single and unattached with no one to part from. Also, I had a surplus of savings, no debts to pay and no dependents to support. It was an ideal setup.

My initial plan was to "test whether I really can build a sustainable travel lifestyle". I began by going on one-month multi-country trips, staying back in Manila for a few months to work, going out again for a month or so, and then staying back again for a longer period than I was out. But that wasn't full-time travelling and I felt dissatisfied with my half-assed attempt.

So I made a follow-up decision to make an all-out attempt and see where my guts and my savings can really take me. I travelled within the country without a return date, picking out destinations I haven't been to and making plans along the way. At several points, my account balance approached zero but I was always saved by friends or new-found friends without them knowing it.

Most recently, I have been able to stay out of Manila for a year -- albeit with quick visits in between. I rented apartments and lived with other travellers, becoming a local expat myself. I spent most days working on my laptop out of coffee shops but found time on off-days to explore a bit farther or to soak up the local sun.

Currently, I am making another decision to continue moving and resist the temptation of staying. Although travelling asks me to give up the comfort of familiarity and of knowing what to expect on an almost daily basis, it nevertheless empowers me to pursue the life that I feel most comfortable with.

FAQs

Where are you going next?
In two days, I am due to fly to Taiwan and then to Thailand where I will end and start the year. As my Filipino passport is only allowed 14 days in Taiwan, I will do a "visa run" to Chiang Mai just so I can spend about 30 days exploring Taiwan, specifically Kaohsiung, Kenting, Meinong, Tainan and Taipei. Afterwards, I will gauge whether I want to stay in Chiang Mai, which is one of the digital nomad capitals in the world, or move out to a quieter area in Thailand.

Where are you from?
When travelling abroad, I say that I'm from the Philippines. Easy. When travelling within the Philippines, I normally say that I'm from Manila, just because that's where I have lived the longest (about a decade). However, I spent my childhood in Laguna and my teenhood in Batangas (both provinces that are 2-3 hrs south of Manila) although none of my parents or family are from there.

Where do you live?
I live where you currently find me. I am writing this in Manila where I have been living for the past couple of months. But that's going to change in a couple of days.

Outside of Manila and Batangas, I always find it awkward to respond "I live here" when I obviously look like a foreigner or a non-local. I think unless a person is seen as employed in that place, it is difficult to perceive that someone is a local resident.

It was during a solo travel to Moalboal, Cebu that I learned to drive a motorcycle by asking my tricycle driver to teach me. He called me a daring fast-learner as I drove at 60kph along the National Road while he "comfortably" sat at the back.

Switching to Vegetarian

Although growing up with some form of meat always on the table, I don't really have strong attachments to it. I do appreciate its taste and texture but don't enjoy its oiliness and heaviness. Eventually, I started questioning my reasons for eating meat (out of habit and culture) and started looking for ways to replace meat from my plate but couldn't find any. As compromise, I opted for chicken or fish, thinking that those are healthier and pose less impact, but continued to feel dissatisfied, thinking that there must be another alternative.

Fortunately, I ended up living with vegan/vegetarians and learned from them how easy and practical it is to maintain a vegetarian diet. We bought common vegetables (tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, bell peppers, sayote, monggo) from the local market and simply cooked them into a stir-fry or curry. We ate a whole food, plant-based diet every day and all meals were delicious and nutritious without ever feeling bloated or weak, or missing meat.

I discovered a whole new world of vegetarian eating. I learned about quinoa, lentils, and Vegemite and experimented with vegan banana pancakes and avocado toasts. I realized that there are so much more (and more flavorful) choices beyond pork adobo, grilled chicken and fried fish, and that lots of common dishes can be made vegetarian by simply leaving out the meat/seafood component (e.g. tinola, sinigang, kare-kare).

Whilst feeding myself remains a daily struggle (which it has always been), I know I will never go back to eating meat. I don't experience cravings and don't consider those as food anymore, especially in the midst of sustainability and climate change issues. Most importantly, I feel in better control of what I eat.

FAQ's

Why did you decide to become vegetarian?
There are numerous reasons for deciding to become vegetarian. The turning point for me was realizing how commercialized and mindless the food industry is. It is motivated solely by profits without regard for anyone's health, well-being and satisfaction. Everything is merely represented by numbers in a spreadsheet whereas food is supposed to be nourishing, valuable and appreciated. Although this is also true about vegetables and fruits, I can at least consume it in its natural form. A carrot looks like a carrot whilst we sometimes miss the connection between sausages and pigs.

Other than that, there's:

• Human do not need to eat meat. We do it for pleasure instead of survival.
• It's easier to handle, store and cook vegetables than chicken and fish.
• Pigs, cows, chickens, fish and seafood are living creatures just like you and me. They are not meant to live and die in factories and farms for our consumption (and pleasure).
• Meat dishes are normally very oily and are more difficult to digest.
• Meat production is no longer sustainable and is among the major contributors to climate change.

How long have you been vegetarian?

I have been vegetarian since April 2017, though not strictly. There were instances that I ate batchoy with pork innards, Wagyu fine steak and tilapia stewed in coconut milk but I don't enjoy it anymore. With the steak specifically, I had a stomachache for a full week.

What exactly do you eat?

When eating out, I go to normal restaurants, but avoid those that specialize in meat-based dishes, e.g. Mang Inasal, Tapa King and Peri-Peri Chicken. I look for vegetable-based dishes and request to leave out the meat bits, if any. For example, chopsuey and pinakbet are vegetable-based but sometimes include shrimp and liver. I don't actually just order salads as those are not full meals. If I'm cooking, I make stir-fry tomato-halves with okra and garlic, stir-fry kangkong with red onions, oatmeal with banana and apple slices, or lentils with stewed tomatoes and carrots.

On the plate: sliced cherry tomatoes, grated beets, grated carrots, pumpkin seeds, diced sweet potatoes, chickpeas, sprouted sunflower seeds, and hummus. This isn't how I eat every day but look at how colorful and diverse a veggie meal can be!

Pursuing Zero-Waste

Probably the most difficult and frustrating of my ideals, pursuing a zero-waste lifestyle requires constant discipline, planning and research. At the same time, I think it is one thing that I should stick to and that everyone should pursue -- and not just consider or tolerate.

To live zero-waste is to aim to generate the least amount of garbage possible so that virtually no trash will end up in landfills, incinerators or the ocean. More than practicing "Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.", for me this means purchasing only what is necessary and many times reusable, and refusing what I will not use even if freely given. This includes purchasing a stainless steel tumbler that I can reuse for my drinking water, hot coffee and fruit shakes, and refusing random giveaways such as notepads and shampoo sachets that I already have too many of.

What makes zero-waste living challenging is that there is an opportunity to generate waste at every move. The toiletries I use, the coffee I drink, the clothes I wear, and even the pen I write with all produce trash that is not recyclable and not compostable. Although I can make simple switches like using shampoo bars instead of bottled shampoos, getting coffee at coffee shops instead of making my own, buying second-hand clothes instead of new ones, and writing with pencils or high quality pens, I am still directly or indirectly generating waste.

Although it may seem pointless to even try, I think it is still necessary not because it might save the world but because it might save us from ourselves. Imagine taking out the garbage once a week instead of everyday, not accumulating paper bags and plastic bags from groceries, having less clutter and more space in the house, and choosing fresh fruits for snacks instead of potato chips.

Admittedly, my zero-waste journey is still far from ideal and may never be. However, I do my best in every situation and will continue doing so, striving a balance between consumption and conservation.

Some simple steps:

• Putting my groceries and purchases in a reusable shopping bag instead of in a paper bag or plastic bag
• Using my receipts as notepads instead of purchasing a notebook (though this might not be professional enough in a business setting)
• Switching to a bamboo toothbrush that is compostable unlike a normal toothbrush with a plastic handle (though the bristles are still synthetic and non-compostable)
• Buying whole fruits without plastic packaging instead of cut-up fruits in plastic trays
• Dining in at restaurants instead of taking out or ordering deliveries
• Switching to a menstrual cup and menstrual cloth pads that are more hygienic and cheaper than sanitary napkins and tampons
• Refusing straws and using my lips instead or requesting for a spoon when consuming thick fruit shakes (straws are really unnecessary and non-essential and wasteful)
• Switching to silicone freezer bags and silicone stretch covers from Ziploc bags and cling wraps
• Refusing any kind of packaging whenever possible, e.g. that clear plastic packaging when purchasing clothes, that carton box when I bought my tumbler
• Buying mobile credits electronically instead of buying a plastic prepaid card in plastic packaging
• Requesting for coffee mugs and metal cutlery instead of consuming food and beverages with paper cups and plastic utensils

Instead of accepting brochures, calling cards and flyers, I take a picture of the information I need. In this way, I have nothing to throw away or to add to my luggage, and it is easier to find and to keep information that may be useful in the future.

*****

Although I do promote them, I made these lifestyle changes not because someone told me to do so but because I see the value in them. My decisions make sense for me, considering what I deem important and acceptable, but not for everyone. And that is okay. My only hope is that for more people to take more active and conscious steps towards what is most meaningful and most valuable for them, even though it may not be the most convenient.

The Loneliness of Pursuing a Life

The mid- to late-20s is probably the strangest and loneliest that most people can feel. It is when they start exploring their own interests and passions and discover all the possibilities that they can pursue. But it is also when they start to realize their own burdens and responsibilities and make decisions that they have to see through. And so, friends find new friends to spend time with, set different careers and goals to pursue, and increasingly walk along separate paths to varied destinations.

This is something that I heard from a mid-20-year-old guy when I was an early-20-year-old. At that time, I didn't really understand what he meant. But recently, his words have been coming back to me and have been making more and more sense.

I started this blog in 2015, marking the 2nd year that I decided to set goals and strive towards them. Since then, I have been finding myself in surreal situations that kept reminding me of how fortunate I am. I have been to the best beaches and islands in the Philippines and to some in Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand. I have been to 30m below sea level and to several hundred meters above on foot. I have met world-class athletes and world-changing individuals who are also the nicest and least entitled people I know.

However, the farther I travel, the more experiences I pursue, and the more people I encounter, the stranger and lonelier I truly feel. It seems that every step I take along this chosen path is another step away from what used to be familiar, normal and comfortable.

Although I really do live for chasing after new experiences and new destinations, I am finding it more and more difficult to relate with other people. Back in school, everyone is aiming for timely graduation, taking the same exams and programs, and have lived the same number of years. Inside the office, most everyone hates the same boss, complains about the same working conditions, and renders too much overtime at some point.

But now with my nomadic freediver lifestyle, I very rarely meet someone who is the same age as I am or is in the same stage of life. Whilst I want to travel like a local and spend my days at the local coffee shop, others have too much energy and too little time to be satisfied with that. Whilst freediving is the only sport I ever did, others have some physical background to draw resilience and techniques from. There's an infinitely diverse range of goals, intentions, struggles and advantages, in addition to nationalities, ages and civil status, that finding a karamay* is a real diamond.

Hence, there are many times when I feel lost and down, look at everyone surrounding me, and see no one seemingly going through something similar.

But this is not to say that I haven't made real personal connections throughout my gallivanting. Even with my introvertedness and fear of being rejected, misunderstood or found out, I've met a few people whom I consider friends and can hang out with.

This is my new reality now. And though I really am thankful for it, I do wish to find people who are also going through similar roadblocks at the same time.

Taken by Summer at Dumaluan Beach, Panglao, Bohol. Summer was my overall Panglao buddy whom I only found because I impulsively decided to invest in a freediving course. If my stinginess prevailed, my stay in Panglao wouldn't have been as special.

*Karamay - n. roughly translates to "accomplice" or "companion", karamay is a Tagalog word that refers to someone who can sympathize with someone else, often experiencing the same struggles at the same time. I think the English translation does not give justice to the depth of meaning of the word.

Settling Down and Setting Out

In the past year or so, I have been settling down to a less nomadic lifestyle. Instead of monthly backpacking trips to new and undiscovered places, I travelled back to familiar places and stayed for months, assuming a more regular rhythm of working, relaxing and training. I completely unpacked my backpack and stashed it in one corner -- something that I normally do after coming back to Manila and not after arriving at a tropical beach island. I feel like I'm finally growing up.

*****

In April 2017, I put down my backpack to live with four other strangers in a 2-storey apartment in Panglao, Bohol. We all volunteered to be part of a dolphin survey project, which lasted for three months. It was my first step towards marine conservation and a baby step away from capitalism, but as getting paid remains essential, I had to combine both.

On early mornings, I worked with the team to collect data and information about the local dolphin tourism industry in Panglao Island. In the evenings, I worked by myself on my laptop to deliver business plan projects. It was difficult adjusting both to living with other people and to juggling two different jobs. Nevertheless, by the end of the three-month period, I have gained new friends who are similarly unconventional, as well as more clarity towards the person I want to be, whilst keeping my job and my salary.

We normally arrive at Doljo Beach just as the sun is rising, excitedly greeted by the dog pack of Doljo. On some mornings, the sky lit up like it was on fire amidst a cool sea breeze.

In September 2017, after a short solo backpacking trip that included me skipping two days of meals for lack of currency, I reunited with my grumpy-old-man in Koh Tao, Surat Thani, Thailand. He was taking his Instructor's Course while I was recovering from my freediving injuries. It was our first international trip together, which actually didn't go as we hoped.

While he was busy with his day-long classes and sessions, I was idle without work and money. I didn't have active projects to work on during the day and I couldn't withdraw money from my card to spend on exploring the island, so I felt stuck and dependent on him. Even though I tried working on my personal projects and resolved to borrow funds from him, the constant feelings of guilt and constraint made me anxious. It was three weeks of struggling to be okay and pretending to be better.

On the only day I dared to drive alone up and down Koh Tao's steep roads, I successfully and safely arrived at Tanote Bay. I spent the afternoon snorkelling, people-watching and sun-bathing.

In November 2017, after a hectic month back in Manila, catching up with friends, working on projects and volunteering in a non-profit convention, I decided to come with my grumpy-old-man to Boracay Island. Although I initially found myself jobless again and attempted to find local employment, I ended up juggling three different clients along with training for freediving -- a stark contrast from the previous month.

On most days, I hopped from one coffee shop to another for work, walking along White Beach and dodging tourists in between. On less demanding days, I scheduled freediving courses and training sessions, struggling against less-flat and less-warm waters. It was the real first time I assumed a digital nomad lifestyle -- working and living simultaneously in a place of my choosing -- and I made it sustainable. By the end of January 2018, I had to leave for fieldwork in Manila but I felt satisfied and fulfilled.

Regardless of how crowded and polluted it was, Boracay amazed me every day with its powder-white sand and clear blue skies. Whenever life starts to feel heavy, I would walk the stretch of White Beach, comforted by the soft sand and breeze.

In February 2018, after an out-of-town reunion with UKworkinggirl and her squad in El Nido, Palawan, I headed to Siargao, Surigao del Norte. I devised a goal of scouting for a hostel business opportunity, drawing from a feeling two years ago that it could be the island I can finally settle in. Unfortunately, with the recent tourism boom, the island underwent drastic commercialization, resulting in inflated prices.

Nevertheless, arriving at the island vaguely felt like coming home. I squealed with every shop I recognized and gaped at all the new establishments. I stayed at my old hostel and re-introduced myself to the friends I previously made, as well as made new friends at the native studio I transferred to. For more than a month, I cycled between working on my laptop, practising yoga, attempting to surf and understanding the local economy, but the island had become a tourist trap so I had to leave for good.

Arriving at Cloud9 for the first time a few years ago, I gazed in awe at the endless roaring waves and the calm shallows. These days, locals refer to the platform as Crowd9, adding that the island is on its way to becoming the next Boracay.

Since March 2018 , I have been back and living in Panglao, Bohol as a result of personal choice and opportunistic circumstances. Now approaching my 4th month, the longest that I have stayed outside of Manila and Batangas (and my ongoing PB in nomadic living), I have laid down some roots in the form of long-term lodging, go-to coffee shops, familiar faces, and international friends.

Within that period, I have been in and out of the island for travel, work and family -- to Singapore for freediving and conservation, to Dumaguete for an organizational meeting, and to Manila, Davao and Cebu for family reunions. Additionally, I have initiated a citizen science project on the conservation of marine turtles around the island and have been completing a Master's course on freediving, all whilst keeping my employers happy, running on island time, and working out relationship drama.

Unlike other beaches, Alona Beach has always given me mixed feelings. Its turquoise waters are somewhat tempting but its boat traffic is always discouraging. But then, I haven't really spent enough time uncovering its secret pockets.
(I don't have enough pictures from Panglao so I am stealing this from ProbinsyaLeavesTown)

Although I've always had a love-hate relationship with the island -- its lack of exciting activities and of social opportunities balanced by its optimal freediving conditions and accessibility to both beach and city life -- I do consider it as my new home, akin to Manila. It has introduced me to a new reality, enabled me towards unthinkable achievements and forced me to overcome myself. Unfortunately, similar to Manila, I feel like it is becoming too comfortable, too familiar and too near and that I should soon get out.

And so, I have started considering new destinations -- trips that would force me back to my detailed itineraries and to my wide-eyed gazes, trips that would challenge my street smarts and my world ideals, and trips that would anger me to my limit or comfort me towards restful sleep. Regardless, I would like to continue living a semi-nomadic lifestyle of almost settling down before setting back out.

*****

Back in 2015, I remember proclaiming to a fellow nomad in our Kyoto house that I am pursuing a sustainable travel lifestyle and would like to travel continuously for at least two years. Well, at least half of that statement has come true. It's probably high time that I pursue that second half.

Nagtabon Beach, Palawan

Travel date: 17-19 Feb 2018

After basing myself out of Panglao and Boracay over the past year, staying for months instead of days, I am again back into travel mode. It has been a while since I ventured somewhere just to be there -- travelling for myself instead of for work or company -- and I've almost forgotten how it feels like. The uncertainty of whether my chosen destination will be friendly enough, the long and tiresome road travels to be endured, and questions of why am I alone, all felt new again and often surprised me.

Coming from El Nido with some friends, I decided to go to Nagtabon beach at the outskirts of Puerto Princesa City in Palawan. I knew just enough to get there but not enough to make a real plan. So I filled my head with contingency plans and consolations but still relied heavily on luck that everything will turn out alright.

And so it did. And more than turning out alright, it turned out special.

Arriving at Javarez Beach Front Lodge, I was greeted very warmly by Kuya Dodoy and Ate Maricel. He was very funny, announcing to everyone that someone came looking for Kuya Dodoy, so I doubted whether it was him until he showed me a drawn portrait bearing his name and prominent mole. Ate Maricel, meanwhile, helped me settle into a hut despite being in the middle of her lunch and even offered the more decent toilet in her house. From then on, I felt very at home and at peace in Nagtabon.

On my first day, I mostly kept to myself whilst being surrounded by groups of weekenders from the city and couples of foreign tourists. I sought out for lunch amongst the few eateries, laid down underneath the palm trees, swam briefly before sunset, and slept early inside my 5sqm nipa hut. Either I felt too tired or too at peace to be bothered by the howling dogs and exchanging of stories around me that I slept 12 hours through the night.

The following day, after a braver-than-usual solo exploration along the rocky coast, I let myself be more social and hung-out with the local lifeguards. I listened to their stories, indulged their questions and followed them around. When they decided to go spearfishing, they invited me to come along and I quickly agreed since I have never been before. It was a big group, consisting of boys who grew up in Nagtabon, regular visitors from the city, and me, a complete stranger. Some brought their surfboards and paddled, some sported only a mask and snorkel and swam, while I wore my long fins and neoprene vest and did shallow dives.

On the morning of my departure, I received utmost Filipino hospitality and spent the whole breakfast morning with the local family. They bought freshly-caught fish, cleaned it, cooked it, served it and asked me to eat first all while I just stood around and watched. I was supposedly a paying guest but they treated me like a part of their extended family and asked nothing in return but a picture to remember them by.

I don't think all solo travelers that wind up at Nagtabon beach receive the same level of treatment so my luck must have been at its peak for me to end up with such a unique and remarkable experience. I was expecting a solitary weekend by the beach wherein I'll do some yoga poses and practice some static exercises but random coincidences and open minds gave me something else that is more worthwhile and that I can treasure forever.

My weekend in Nagtabon beach was a very encouraging "welcome back" into travel mode that reminded me not only of what I earn from travelling but also of why I welcome strangers. Although mostly everyone would think it unsafe to travel solo as a female and put trust on locals of the area, this is exactly how I am able to enrich my life and feel connected to the world. (Caveat: Nevertheless, always approach with caution and stay smart.)

My Nagtabon family. I don't even know all their names. They called each other "boy", "pre", "duy", "teh", "kel", etc.

Fishy diet. Fishermen often arrive from the shore with their fresh catch which they either sell to the eateries or take home.

Nagtabon Beach on a Saturday afternoon. On weekends, the beach becomes relatively crowded, as in separate groups of people are can be seen scattered around.

Just footprints. On other days, it becomes completely empty aside from footprints, paw prints and tire tracks left behind. 

Native studio. Apart from camping, there is also an option to rent out nipa huts that are just big enough to contain a bed but with a terrace and a view. They're very cozy.

Practical Notes

• Address: Sitio Nagtabon, Brgy. Bacungan, Puerto Princesa City, Palawan, Philippines
• Cellphone signal is not available as well as electricity, however they do have generators at night time
• Overnight accommodations good for two people are available with Javarez Beach Front Cottages (Php300/400) and with Sapphire Sands (Php600/700)
• It is also possible to rent out an entire house with Playa Paraiso (contact 0905 448 0902/0999 934 0875), just beside Javarez Beach Front Cottages
• There are at least two eateries along the beach serving grilled fish and meat, as well as cold drinks
• In addition to these, cooked meals are available from Javarez and Sapphire Sands, along with bringing and preparing your own food
• Tricycle fare from Bacungan Elementary School along the National Road costs Php200 per person one-way
• It is also possible to charter a tricycle all the way back to Puerto Princesa City for Php500 per vehicle
• Secure parking is available and most guests arrive in cars, vans or motorcycles

Budget Guide

• Tricycle - Php200/person/trip
• Nipa huts for day use - Php150-300
• Lounge Chairs - Php100-200
• Meals - From Php80 for a single person including rice
• Water - Php60 for 1.5L
• Coke - Php25 for a small bottle; Php40 for a tin can
• Halo-halo - Php35 per serving
• Fresh Buko - Php50 per piece

Reminders

Although Nagtabon beach remains relatively unspoiled and off-the-beaten-path, it has increased in popularity in recent years due to word-of-mouth and social media channels. With the influx of visitors came the influx of garbage as well. When planning to visit Nagtabon beach, please consider the following:

• Bring reusable plates, cups and utensils instead of disposable ones. It is a lot cheaper and water for washing is abundantly available.
• Instead of bringing packaged chips as snacks, bring fruits instead. Not only are they healthier but are also completely bio-degrable.
• Instead of purchasing shampoo sachets and small bar soaps for a weekend trip, bring the whole bottle from home. This avoids not only additional costs but also the hassle of going to the store.
• Trash bins are available at the lodges. Please hold on to your plastic wrappers until then instead of throwing them away on the beach.
• Bring your own drinking water, preferably a gallon container. Although water bottles can be purchased, these unnecessarily leave plastic bottle waste plus bringing your own water is a lot cheaper.

Take nothing but pictures. Leave nothing but footprints. Kill nothing but time.

Birthday Travels

Since 2014, I have been spending my birthdays at a beach destination far away from the city. Although this isn't something my parents necessarily appreciate and my friends exactly understand, I feel good about staring out at the sea with the wind blowing on my face as I celebrate my personal new year. Selfish, maybe, but people always wish each other "an amazing/awesome/great/happy birthday", so I'm just fulfilling their wishes.

As most significant life events, it wasn't planned but was a result of a situation -- a coincidence if you may. My bestfriend was coming home to the Philippines for Christmas in 2014 and wanted to make time for a beach trip. It just turned out that my birthday weekend was the most ideal for both our schedules. So we decided on a location, made minimal plans, and pushed through even with an impending storm. After that trip, I realized that that's what I want to do every year.

The first year

In 2014, I went to a surfing town called Baler with my high school bestfriend who now lives in London and whom I see every couple of years but frequently talk with. Apart from the first night's accommodation and travel directions, we didn't really plan for anything else. We stayed along Sabang beach, the main tourist area, at a cheap lodging I found online and made plans as hours went by, which included an afternoon nap, a surfing session, bicycle-hunting, and a DIY tour. It was both our first time in the area (and our first time travelling together) so there were lots of things to be excited about.

On the morning of my birthday, we woke up early to catch the sunrise, strolling along the dark empty beach and staring meditatively out at the sea (well I did). The wind blew strong, the clouds threatened with rain, and the sun failed to display itself. Nevertheless, I felt good being up and about early enough and being with good company. On the way back to our lodge, we were drawn to a small local bakery by the smell of baked goods. We decided to buy mini-cupcakes and mini-candles with which she and our lodge neighbors sang happy birthday to me.

At dinner, I received my second birthday song when the restaurant staff surprised us with a free birthday dessert of turon ala mode. We were having dinner with our lodge neighbor, Miles, a surfer from California who had a semi-handlebar mustache and who talked about waves travelling for miles and miles before crashing down on a beach and how amazing it is for a surfer to catch that energy. I was actually very tired and zoning in and out of the conversation so I was in a dream-like state when the staff came out singing loudly with a candle to blow out.

As I don't normally get two birthday candles and birthday songs when celebrating in the city, this boded well for my first out-of-town celebration.

I always find myself staring out at the sea whenever faced by it 

Red velvet and kiwi mini-cupcakes with pink and white mini-candles amidst a background of turquoise waters and rolling waves

First of two birthday songs c/o a long-time friend and a day-old friend

The succeeding years

A hand-made birhday cake

The following year, I decided to do the same but with a little more planning. In 2015, I went on a 3-day road trip to Northern Luzon with a good friend from college whom I had recently re-connected with. She learned that I had spent the past year travelling and wanted to try the same. We stayed three nights at three different destinations (Vigan, Pagudpud, La Union), making countless stops along the way, including a star-studded and surreal one at the Bangui Windmills, and driving 6-8 hours in between. On the eve of my birthday, I was sitting by myself at a quiet corner in the hostel when a group started singing happy birthday. Although secretly hoping, I instantly knew that it wasn't intended for me and that made me feel very strange -- indifference trying to keep the feeling of loneliness at bay. Nevertheless, I did get a birthday cake, which my friend drew on the sand, and a birthday sunset amidst the crashing waves.

Towards the end of our 2nd 7-hour drive, we stopped at Bangui in pitch-black darkness beneath a star-studded and gas-clouded night sky while the gigantic windmills loudly burred in the background.

In 2016, I went on a weekend trip to Pundaquit, Zambales with a college blockmate whom I always make time to bond with. I invited her to come away with me, wanting to have company and to catch up with her. We boarded a bus at Kamias, transferred to another one at Olongapo, chartered a tricycle at San Antonio, and walked 100m along the beach to our almost-private beach cottage. The following night, we waited for December 5 with drinks on the table, just talking and sharing stories, switching between life, love, and laughs. The waves rolled by, stars faded in and out, and rain showered softly throughout midnight before we decided to turn in. There was neither cake nor song and it didn't feel celebratory but it was the best I could hope for.

We found ourselves beside a fishing village that thrives on both fish catch and island-hopper traffic. The vibe was the opposite of party but it was a good venue for escaping internal and external noise.

The previous year

This 2017 felt quite different as I have been living in an island for a month prior with my old man (not referring to my dad but he does act like my dad at times). There was no beach escape to plan and no friend to anticipate. Also, unlike the previous years, I was quite busy with work and couldn't afford a full-day celebration. Nevertheless, I was at the beach, gazing at the sunset, without an ensuing back-to-the-city trip.

I spent the morning doing as much work as I can focus on before slipping into a dress I specifically brought for this day and discreetly slipping out of the house. I daintily hopped onto the back of a motorcycle and rushed to the dive center, hoping to catch my freedive buddies and share with them the birthday Mango Float cake I hastily made the previous night. They happily greeted me and the four of us enjoyed my homemade cake (the only food I am confident enough to feed to other people). Afterwards, me and my old man sat by the beach just in time for sunset during which I started telling him about my previous birthday celebrations and how different the year's celebration felt. Shortly after, he excused himself to dress for dinner so I was able to enjoy my cocktails, online birthday greetings and brief chats with old friends.

With the absence of travel, my celebratory plan was to get drunk on happy hour cocktails and laugh the night away. It wasn't the best idea or a mature one and maybe I should stick with discovering a new beach the next time.

*****

Now that I am no longer basing myself in the city, situations similar to 2017's will likely become more normal...and that's a good thing. Though my celebrations don't come with a blast and a lot of excitement, it is what feels right and meaningful. However, I still don't recommend completely isolating yourself on the day when you want to feel loved.

Solo Travel: Same Same but Different

I remember the time when travelling solo was the scariest thing in the world. There was nothing in particular that I was scared about but I was scared out of my wits. I kept imagining vague scenarios that quickened my pulse and kept me awake.

At the same time, it was also the most exciting thing in the world. It presented a totally novel and insane idea that was so out of my current world. I dreamed of unknown opportunities, destinations, and experiences that outweighed the fears and kept me moving.

When I first explored the idea of solo travel, travelling outside of work obligations and family holidays was a very young concept. Most people travel not out of want but of need while the rest simply had the time and money to spare. In my case, however, I travelled purely because of want and strict budgets have to be set to make it possible.

Because of this, whenever I tell people that I am going somewhere, they find it difficult to understand that I am not doing it for work and that I am neither on a holiday. What's more, I go alone with only my laptop and phone for company. They respond with so much confusion that I tend to question myself as well.

Nevertheless, I do know that travelling solo is something that I sincerely enjoy and am passionate about. While most people turn away from the work of making plans and arrangements for their vacations, I indulge in carefully designing my routes -- uncovering different means of moving from one place to another, searching diligently for prices and fares, and picking out known and unknown locations. To me, the journey matters more than the destination and stepping onto a new place is more breathtaking than the sceneries. It's not uncommon that I suddenly pause with the realization that I am, once again, headed to somewhere unfamiliar.

Now two years since I began my pursuit, I realized that travelling solo no longer scares or excites me. Gone are the wild thoughts and baseless worries that fed my doubts. Gone also are the hopeful anticipation and hazy daydreams that filled me with wonder. Instead, I feel comfort, normality, and familiarity even when arriving for the first time in a country whose language I cannot decode.

Though the experience is markedly different now, the same things that compelled me to travel solo persist still. I may no longer walk around with wide-eyed wonder like a kid in an amusement park, or with paranoid unease for pre-empting mistakes, but each new environment still amazes me and each unknown still worries me. Most importantly, I travel still because I want to expand my comfort zone and to incorporate more places into my personal reality.

Definitely, my preferences and goals will continue to change as I gain more years and experiences. But I am sure that no matter how familiar and unexciting solo travel becomes, it will never stop being amazing and breath-taking (add: insane).

Taken by yelmalab in Batanes, Philippines. Biking is definitely the best way (and most hardworking) way to explore a new location. This trip gave birth to this blog's forerunner, The Hardworking Traveller.

Early Morning Routines

Early in 2017, I left Manila for a 3-month commitment with an organisation doing marine conservation work. It was my first time to be involved in such and my first time to stay that long in a single place, outside of Manila.

I became part of a 5-person team from different nationalities, backgrounds, and expertise. We worked early mornings and moved together under a strict schedule that inevitable became a routine. This was something new to me as I have been so used to moving around on my own accord. Nevertheless, it was a learning experience and I now cherish every morning I got up before the sun did. Below is a narrative of our typical early morning.

4:30 am -- I drift into consciousness as my bedroom door quietly creaks open and a familiar voice softly calls my name. I respond as politely as I could, thankful for the wakeup call, but slip back for another five minutes of shut-eye anyway.

4:45 am -- I determine to get up, wash the sleep off my face, and put on the gray survey shirt that I was also wearing yesterday. I am on auto-pilot, with most decisions already been made days before.

4:55 am -- I arrive at the kitchen downstairs to find three other people in varying states of wakefulness and enthusiasm. I exchange glances with one or two of them as I pack my morning snack.

On some mornings, the mountains of Loon seemed to be burning but then a few minutes pass and a fierce orange orb reveals itself.

5:00 am -- Almost on the dot, our habal-habal* drivers arrive in a definitely happier and lighter mood than us, as indicated by Filipino love songs playing loudly from their phone. We split into pairs and set off, no instructions needed.

5:10 am -- After breezing through the empty morning road, we arrive at the usual beach just as the sun is rising. I gaze out towards the orange glow behind the mountains as my companions greet the resident stray dogs who have become accustomed to us.

5:30 am -- We sail out past islets, fish pens, and fishermen for a journey that will take an hour at the least. It's too loud for casual talk aboard our small boat so I sit back, feel the damp wind against my face, and watch the waves roll by us.

6:30 am -- We take out our sheets, equipment, and gears as we spot the cluster of boats that is our objective and instantly switch to full alertness. We maintain this state for a couple of hours as necessary and then slowly sink back to sluggishness.

10:00 am -- Arriving back at the same beach, we are welcomed by the same pack of dogs. We bid our boatmen goodbye and thank you and excruciatingly wait for our ride as we push our bladders of steel to the limit.

10:30 am -- As soon as the motorbikes brake to a stop, we shuffle inside and straight to the kitchen or the toilet. While a couple of us proceed to prepare their breakfast, others sit and check their phones. Either way, this marks the end of our early morning and the start of our individual days. The rest of the day can be spent as we deem appropriate but tomorrow, the routine starts again.

Rediscovering Freediving

For three weeks now, I have been based out of Panglao Island, Bohol as I expand my comfort levels in freediving. It so far remains extremely terrifying and surreal, with each dive a battle against underwater pressure and self-doubt. However, I have happily made strong progress both in skill and in enjoyment. And although my motivation for pursuing freediving continues to be vague, the path towards it is now clearer than when I first discovered it.

Freediving is both a competitive and a recreational sport wherein participants hold their breath and dive underwater to depths of up to 200m (656ft). Of course, not all freedivers dive that deep and most enjoy freediving as simply holding their breath for a few seconds and diving down to 10m (33ft). In any case, the activity is best enjoyed at a personal level, with athletes competing against themselves than against each other.

Taken during the Asian Freediving Cup at Panglao, Bohol by Kohei Ueno. My first exposure to a freediving competition, I immerse in the water with only a mask and a snorkel amidst expert freedivers with wetsuits and long fins.

It was back in 2015 when I first discovered freediving in Moalboal, Cebu. I knew very little about it but the idea of diving with no attached equipment and at my own pace and will convinced me that it was how I want to explore the underwater world. So after a 2.5-day AIDA 2-star course, which culminated in a 17m (56ft) dive and a sea turtle sighting, I saw a whole new world open up for me.

Taken by Nicolas Foubert in Moalboal, Cebu. Ascending from a 10-meter (33-feet) dive on a single breath, I felt contented and didn't imagine daring to go deeper.

However, just like graduating from university, the next step after finishing the course was unclear. I wanted to use my new-found underwater exploration skills but I had no one to freedive with.

Nevertheless, I held on to my budding interest and started designing my travels around freediving schools. This made it easier to decide where my next destination will be and also safer to practice freediving. Still, doing coached dives with freedive instructors in and out of the Philippines, although enjoyable, didn't really match my initial idea of what freediving is for. It felt like I wasn't getting the most out of it.

*****

It wasn't until a fun dive session in Napaling, Panglao that I rediscovered joy in freediving. I was with a more experienced freediver, which made me feel safe as I know he can rescue me in case something happens, and challenged as I didn't want to appear sloppy and incapable. We dived through swim-through's, up and down a reef wall, over colorful corals, and through a small school of sardines. I felt graceful, relaxed, and amazed. I remembered every skill I learned and used them to move effortlessly and enjoyably underwater. It was pure joy. After that, I started dreaming of becoming better, of staying underwater longer, and of doing more fun dives like this.

Taken by Gert Leroy in Napaling, Panglao. I stay a couple of seconds underwater, letting the water push my body upwards as I examine the different sensations occurring inside.

I thought then that that was the goal: freediving for underwater exploration. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt incomplete -- like it was just one side of the coin. More so, I realized how I am not really looking at marine life underwater but looking at myself inwardly.

Unexpectedly, opportunities for training and for more freediving came up. I suddenly found myself along this path that demanded so much discomfort yet imparted so much amazement. I was doing something I have never imagined I could and it was slowly becoming part of my comfort zone.

Taken by Gert Leroy in Napaling, Panglao. I head towards the surface as my legs start to burn and my lungs crave for fresh oxygen after achieving a new 25-meter (82-feet) PB*.

So I trudged on. And from looking at freediving as a means of exploring the underwater, I look at it now as a means of discovering myself. Further, from being an impressionable audience at the most-awaited freediving competition in Asia, I am now a hopeful participant at the last depth competition this year in Panglao.

I may still be considered a beginner freediver who takes pleasure in the idea of looking more bad-ass than scuba divers, but I am also now a competitive freediver who finds so much joy in reaching new depths. Nonetheless, freediving will always equate to exploration, be it of underwater seascapes or of my innermost tendencies.

Taken by Gert Leroy on a fun dive session in Barracuda Lake, Coron. I dive down to 12m to check out what limestone formations are hiding beneath. If this video takes too long to load, check this out instead ;)

A post shared by Gert Leroy (@gertleroy) on Aug 1, 2017 at 3:58am PDT

*Personal Best: In depth disciplines, this refers to the deepest that a freediver has gone to without blacking out or losing motor control.

Tips for a Budget-Friendly Travel

Whenever I travel solo, I always make budget my top priority. This is because I want to make travel a part of my normal lifestyle. I try to spend as much as what I would normally spend if I am in Manila, the difference being I have to factor in more expenses like accommodation, entrance fees, and activities. The tips below help me keep to my budget and support me in building a sustainable travel lifestyle.

1. Walk

Budget: Php 0

Aside from costing zero, walking also burns calories and strengthens the body. I love walking and I walk everywhere I can, be it the early morning, middle of the day, or late evening. This is how I normally familiarize myself with a new place, akin to calibrating a compass, and it also enables me to feel the general vibe of the place.

Depending on what is on the street level, walking can be boring but it can also lead you to stumble upon a hole-in-a-wall, a specialty store, or a fortunate event. Sometimes I even amuse myself at how far I've walked, ending up at a different district supposedly several kilometers away.

Walk to save on pesos, burn some calories, and inhale the city (literally).

2. Take Public Transportation

Budget: Php 8-40

If I don't have the time and/or energy to walk, I take public transportation including tricycles and motorcycles, jeepneys and multicabs, trains, etc.

Tricycles and motorcycles don't have fixed routes so I just ask the driver if he can take me to where I want to go and for how much. (Note: I have yet encountered a female driver. Tell me if you had.) Jeepneys and multicabs are trickier but I also normally ask the driver whether he is going where I am headed and to tell me when I should get off. Trains are trickiest because there is little information about navigating the stations and getting tickets and I have to know beforehand which station I need to get off at.

Taking public transport is also a good way to familiarize myself with a new place and I already normally know the routes to take and the stops to say by the second day.

Bonus Tip #1: In Luzon, say "para" to signal the driver to stop. In Visayas and Mindanao, say "lugar lang" instead.

Bonus Tip #2: For commuting around Manila and to some places around the Philippines, check ph-commute.com.

Compared to motorcycles and tricycles, jeepneys and multicabs are safe because they take fixed routes

3. Avoid Chartered Vehicles

Savings: Php 150-3,000

As much as possible, I avoid chartering my own transportation, including the habal-habal (motorcycle). Aside from taking up a large percentage of my daily budget, it forces me into a one-on-one with my driver. Although this presents a great opportunity to quiz him about anything and everything about the place and to gain local insight, it really is a game of luck of whether he will be friendly enough or too friendly.

To avoid such situations, I ask about alternative ways of getting from one place to another, even if it involves multiple transfers or lots of walking.

Habal-habal drivers idly wait for passengers. Most of the time, you can hail one by the side of the road.

4. Ask around for Alternatives

Budget: Varies

In line with the above, I have discovered that there is always another way of getting around, depending on how committed you are. Let me count the ways:

a. Walking -- Some travellers walk for hours on rugged terrain to get to a secluded waterfalls without chartering a habal-habal. I personally have walked 4kms with my full pack to avoid paying an overpriced Php100 tricycle fare. Along the way, I had the best taho ever.

b. Commuting with multiple transfers -- Chartered vehicles are perfect for conveniently going from one place to another. It is fast and direct but relatively expensive. Sometimes, public transportation is also possible but may take longer and more transfers.

c. Joining another group -- For boat tours especially, it is possible to come up and ask whether you can join their group and share in the rental fee. I once joined a group of students noisily taking pictures so that I didn't have to charter a boat of 15pax for myself.

5. Hitchhike

Budget: Php 0

To be used with extreme caution and in selected circumstances only, hitchhiking is not only free but also a thrill. I have hitchhiked on top of a garbage truck to avoid a steep climb, aboard a private boat to directly cross between islands, and on an MMDA Officer's motorbike to skip a traffic bottleneck. Again, use with extreme caution and in selected circumstances only.

Note: I haven't actually stood at the side of a road and held up my thumb. I don't recommend that.

Pundaquit, San Antonio, Zambales

4-5 December 2016

Brgy. Pundaquit is a small fishing village in San Antonio in Zambales that is more popularly known as the jump-off point to camping destinations Anawangin Cove and Capones Island. Although normally overlooked in favor of uninhabited coves and a century-old lighthouse, Pundaquit features a soft mix of rural living among the fishermen and of touristy escapades with the arriving tourists that is set in its own sunset-facing semi-cove.

Typical fishing boats line the beach in the morning as some fisherman prepare their nets [far right] while others sort out the previous night's catch [middle center].

 Two fishermen aboard "07 Rhea Mhey" lay down their nets just in front of the shore while the first group of tourists boat away to their destination [background center].

Even from the other side of the cove, tourists can be identified by their mandatory neon orange life vests. This group left at 7am on a Monday.

Passenger boats and fishing boats anchor alongside each other as boatmen either wait for new passengers to arrive or for the mid-afternoon to pass.

From one side of the cove, Camara Island overlays against Capones Island, offering a nice gradient of islets under the mid-day sun. A female holiday-maker documents her trip in the foreground.

Nipa huts equipped with bamboo tables & seating and karaoke sets line the path from the parking area to the beach and are mostly popular among day-trippers and locals.

Lying along the Zambales coastline, Pundaquit also offers seasonal surfing and features left-handed waves, after which the Look Left community resort was named. Capones Island can be seen in the distance.

Lastly, Pundaquit lies at the foot of the Zambales Mountain Range and offers views of both the mountains and the sea, including some islets and a sunset.

Bonus: 

A 15-minute tricycle ride from the beach is the town center of San Antonio where a local fair reminiscent of childhood 20-peso thrill rides, which threaten to fall apart anytime, are setup on occasions.

Saving 2016

2016 was an extra challenging year for a number of reasons. I approached my lowest low, touched on insanity, and delved into the absence of meaning. As a response, I took comfort in isolation and unproductivity because these required nothing from me. As expected, none of my problems were solved and I just either delayed facing them or made them worse.

But I am not writing this to talk about how horrible my 2016 was. Rather, I am writing to recognize how it wasn't so bad after all and to move on from the monsters (and traumas) that were. I am writing this to save the year I worked so hard for, as well as my past self and all her hopes and dreams.

1. The Longest Travel So Far

On my first trip for 2016, I travelled for 3 months, traversing 7 provinces, sleeping in 10 different beds, and taking all modes of transportation. I originally hoped to extend it up to six months but circumstances favored coming back to Manila sooner. Before this, the longest I went was 30 days, as limited by timing considerations and visa restrictions. With this trip, there was no boyfriend, no office, and no commitment that I needed to come back for. There was just me, my laptop, and endless possibilities I can run to. So I moved between cities as I please, gauging on my mood and work requirements. Although opportunities eventually led me to stay put and to move back, this trip proved that I really can work and live anywhere (granted reliable internet connection is available).

A long and dusty road ahead

2. Bali, Finally

Originally part of my first travel for the year, I was only able to get to Bali in October. I initially considered the destination as a marker as to whether I will be bold enough to assume a legitimate travel lifestyle (i.e. travelling for 6 months and more) or to retain the status quo of a semi-nomadic lifestyle. Although the destination never fulfilled that purpose, it served a bigger one -- that of gauging how strong and brave I have become. The journey to and through Bali was filled with brick walls and frustrations. But in spite of all those, I held myself up, achieved my travel targets, and managed a smile when needed. The legitimately nice people, warm beaches, and green rice paddies helped, of course.

Canggu's black sand enjoyed by both foreigners and locals

3. A Job That Fed My Knowledge Craving And Bank Account

A year before, I resigned from my consulting job in place of a freelancing occupation that enabled me to work where and when as I please. I was prepared to sustain my lifestyle on this, even with the irregular inflow of projects and income. But opportunities always seemed to come my way and I managed to obtain a market analyst position. The work offered good compensation, set project schedules, and flexible work hours. It was a full-time, online-based job that matched my current preferences. On top of this, it allowed me to get paid for consuming information and accumulating knowledge.

At times, my workplace comes with a view

4. Girlfriends Who Displace Boyfriends

I have always considered myself as "one of the boys" as I feel like they match my interests and preferences better. However, for the first time in my life, I found myself spending more time with girls than with guys and not even craving for male attention. LDRgirlfie was always there for rants and life realizations despite the distance and time zone; HSbestie accompanied me on impulsive road trips and engaged me on real talks; LMgroupie became a frequent dinner buddy with whom I discussed random, silly, and existential stuff about; HistorySissie indulged my interest in blogging and travel; and CohortCoussie endured awkward family gatherings and issues with me.

I'm lazy to make a collage so here are kitties

5. A Call To The Importance Of Health

One morning, I woke up with some tightness around my hip and lower back which I quickly attributed to the hard bed I slept on. A couple of months later, I learned from my chiropractor that my spine has been gradually rotating and has reached a point where my spinal nerves are being pinched between the spinal canals. This meant that I should avoid putting strain on my back lest I continually suffer from creeping pain from my hips to my knees. This was a big deal for me because it also meant no more backpacking, no more boxing, no more mountaineering and a lot of other activities that I enjoy. Only then did I realize that I need to pay more attention to my health and body in order to sustain the lifestyle that I want. Hearing the news sucked at first but it served as a wake up call that 'health really is wealth'. Since then, I have been investing more time and money on my wellness so that I don't have to endure any pain, discomfort, or distress that is avoidable in the first place.

I haven't found enough solo photoshoot spots and I need to be healthy and functional for that