By Lory Tan

Day 1 – Halloween revelry had obviously taken its toll on the heavens. It was early afternoon, but Manila sat beneath an angry thick canopy, the texture of grey cotton. The saints were not feasting today.

No matter. I was headed south, and glints of blue splashed the Tagalog sky. This was going to be a weekend of discovery for me. Although I had visited Batangas & Mindoro countless times, this working trip was going to take me to spots I had never seen. From Batangas City, I was crossing to Calapan, then motoring to Puerto Galera. To add bounce to an otherwise humdrum itinerary, I stretched each day to make time to soak in new adventures – historical, natural and culinary.

As I coasted to the end of the South Expressway, Makiling lifted her wispy veil, baring her shoulders and sinuous waist to me, back dropped (finally) by a brilliant sky. A fortuitous hint of things to come.

Farther on, along the twisty Batangas road, hunger hit me. Just a kilometer past the Cuenca intersection, Banay Banay beckoned. This institutional turo turo, lathered in hot pink paint, has served the freshest native meals to passengers on the Batangas-Manila commute for years. I was really tempted but, nah, traffic was moving at a good clip and a sumptuous dinner lay ahead. I had to leave space.

Hotel Pontefino sits on the edge of Batangas City, near the new SM Mall. I have enjoyed two or three good meals at its restaurant, Robusta. Maliputo, the freshwater jack from Taal Lake, Batangas beef as crispy-chewy tapa, or bulalo leaking bone marrow, farm vegetables – steamed, sautéed or stewed, each meal ending with banana duvet, fried and spread over soft meringue sitting in sweet rum custard, with a bassy espresso made from fresh ground barako beans to wash it all down.

Their fine dining menu (ask for it) offers pleasure plus. A Balayan Caesar Salad with Prawn Saltimbocca, Osso Buco Batangueño sitting on red rice, Batangas Beef Adobo brightened with annatto seeds and topped with pork crackling.

On the dessert side, Robusta tempts you with a Batangas crepe embracing a filling of muscovado and crushed peanut brittle. So many choices, so little time. Whichever you succumb to, Pontefino is a great wind down at day’s end, to gird up for the early morning ferry to Mindoro.

Day 2 – Batangas to Calapan. “I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and sky.” On to the nautical highway, I pulled into the sprawling Park & Sail lot at Batangas port, now splashed in screaming sunlight. This parking lot is a good idea. It simplifies things, making domestic travel a bit easier. Ticket booths were easy to find. The Montenegro ticket line moved briskly, as did the queue where you paid for your terminal fee.

Easy. Before long, I had cleared the requisite security checks and was sitting at Rocks Cafe having a double Americano. In no time, the boarding call sounded and I picked out an outdoor seat in the shade, by the starboard rail of MV Natasha, en route to Calapan.

Verde Passage was in the best of moods. Natasha barely heaved in the flurry of crosscurrents that course through this heavily traveled channel. The light fanning of a gentle southeast wind conspired with the hypnotic vibration of our ship’s screws to lull in an Alpha state. My kingdom for a hammock.

An hour and a half after our departure, Calapan loomed at our bows. Her outline reminded me of a recent whale watch at Puerto Princesa, and the distinctive back of a Bryde’s whale logging in the morning glare. Although it was an altogether pleasant crossing, I must comment how saddening it is to see fellow passengers – old and young – nonchalantly throw garbage into the sea, despite of repeated instructions not to do so. Human activity is, clearly, at the very root of this problem along the Verde Passage.

The seas were exceedingly calm, ranging from Beaufort 1 to 2, and yet, I did not see one indicator of biodiversity, not a single dolphin, nor a single sea bird. But the seas were littered with plastic bags and other reminders of our non-biodegradable footprint.

Johnjoe, conservation colleague and true son of Calapan, met me at the pier. It being the Feast of All Souls, most local restaurants were closed. Rather than waste the little time we had searching for an enterprising non-believer, we chose to go for the sights and hunt for food pasalubong, starting with a drive down to Lake Naujan.

A key site in the Philippine National Integrated Protected Area System, this lake is also a globally-recognized Ramsar site. As a protected area, Lake Naujan is one of the few remaining lakes in the country that remains entirely free of fish pens. At certain times of the year, a large flock of diving ducks winter here. Numbering in the thousands, these beautiful black and white wonders drop by to feed on the fat freshwater snails Naujan is famous for.

Local folk wax poetic when they talk of the lake’s endemic fish: sabalo (mother milkfish), banglis (a fat freshwater giant sometimes weighing ten kilos, that sounded like a carp when described), biya, dalag (mudfish) and delicious freshwater eels. The lake is also home to a few remaining Philippine crocodiles – Crocodylus mindorensis, one of the most critically endangered crocodilians on the planet.

It is unfortunate that, rather than looking for ways to seed the lake with these endemics, the Fisheries Bureau has reportedly decided to seed it with, you guessed it, tilapia. I hope it is not too late to hold back on this shortsighted plan, and do the right thing.

The lake seemed unsettled, and it appeared that all the boatmen had decided to take the day off as well. No duck photographs today. So, after taking a few pictures of a weathered dugout by the lakeshore, we drove to a waiting shed at Barangay Pasi, in Victoria Town where fresh fish from the lake is sold each morning. Of course, a pile of tilapias were available. But, off to one side, I espied bags of dried biya. Now this is a rare treat. I picked up a whole kilo of the dried fish to take home and share at the office.

Victoria town had other food surprises up its sleeve. It is locally known as the calamansi capital of Mindoro. (I was secretly wishing for a place serving calamansi smoothies.) At JASA’s bakery, Johnjoe introduced me to my first two crispy cookies of Mindoro Oriental – tiping and aglipay. Very light and guilt-free, they were delightful. I picked up five packs of each to bring home.

Further down the road, by Kilometer 12 in Calapan, we stopped once again at Floro’s Bakery for the second two cookie types – ugoy ugoy and dalagang bukid. After my great experience with the first two, we picked up several bags of these as well, and enjoyed their crunch through the rest of the afternoon, in between our two meetings of the day, and all the way through early evening, to Moorings, at Puerto Galera.

Daisy, queen of the castle, welcomed us with a hot dinner. A cup of thick, hot sinigang broth followed by crisp breaded fish sticks with a lemon butter dip, and sautéed squid rings served with a choice of two bright and spicy plates of Kim Chee.

Better than a welcome drink, any day. Seeing that we had packs and packs of tiping on hand, Daisy offered us a perfect cookie counterpoint for dessert ­ generous bowls of vanilla ice cream ornamented with chocolate syrup. This lady really knows her stuff. It was a day full of treats ­ great meetings, great food gifts, great stories.

Day 3 – Puerto Galera. Cold, sour calamansi juice and strong dark coffee was all I asked Daisy to bring me for breakfast. After all the food we ate the day before, I did not feel I deserved any of the hearty options she suggested from the considerable breakfast menu at Moorings.

I had come specifically for an event launching the town’s new Environmental User’s Fee. From November 16 on, all visitors are going to be charged P50 per entry. This money will provide a sustainable source of funding to cover the costs of coastal resource management, patrols, clean up efforts and the like. Seeing that it promised to be a full afternoon, we decided to have an early lunch on White Beach.

The entire length of this party beach was filled with tourists. It was, without exaggeration, a riot. You could buy everything from hot meals, to temporary (or permanent) tattoos, to Mindoro slings, to fake Rolex watches, to banana boat rides, to a massage on the sand.

Tourists sat, sunbathing in their sandy swimsuits, right beside other lines of people, bags in hand, waiting to board ferry bancas leaving for Batangas. We walked all the way through and past this maddening throng in flip-flops, away from the strains of rock and pop floating in the wind, to Coco Aroma at the very southern, quieter end of White Beach.

The highlight of lunch, at least for me, was our appetizer called Heart Attack special – chicken skin cracklings marinated in adobo seasoning (I would consider coming back, just for this). After that early climax, service inexplicably slowed down, dishes came one by one, and the last order was served (believe or not) close to 2pm.

If not for the happy company and their infectious laughter, this lunch would have been promptly forgotten. We paid our bill, and walked back to the highway, where I enjoyed a really good double espresso at an Italian resto to wash away the remnants of a rather unmemorable lunch before moving on to meet our string of commitments for the afternoon.

Places like White Beach need fixing up. Not a tune up, more like an overhaul. Electricity, Water and Waste are evidently a problem. Boat traffic badly needs management. This is an accident waiting to happen. If easements are not adjusted, fire as well as other health/safety issues, may be a matter of serious concern.

Later that evening, Daisy made up for everything. Acceding to a last minute request, she laid out an instant buffet featuring filets of mahi mahi grilled just right ­ slightly charred and crusty on the outside, soft and yielding within ­ accompanied by a platter of fried tofu in a sweet soy, and a generous serving of wok-stirred garden vegetables. It was a delightful way to end this all-too-short weekend adventure.

Over two days, I spent time with a congressman, a governor, and a mayor. I exchanged ideas with an impressive provincial agriculture officer, and shared the successes of fishermen who volunteer to enforce fishery laws, as bantay dagat (sea guardian). I attended the launch of a pioneering conservation initiative, followed by a cocktail with mostly-foreign yachtsmen. I met up with old friends, and made new ones.

The next morning, I was heading home. Wherever you go, you can always bring back stories, photographs and goodies to share with friends. However, these are nothing but snippets. Coming from a province like Mindoro Oriental, where there is so much to see, do and get done, there’s simply nothing like the real thing.

(The author is the director of World Wildlife Fund in the Philippines. He is also a writer, photographer, documentary filmmaker and former publisher. First published on INQUIRER.net.)