Subic Bay

Trekking to Mount Pinatubo isn't your typical scenic stroll-it's more like an Indiana Jones reboot featuring volcanic ash, harsh sunlight, and a crater lake so startlingly turquoise you'd swear it's photoshopped. Since that infamous 1991 tantrum-one of the biggest volcanic eruptions of the century, which not only reshaped geography but also booted Clark Air Base's American occupants swiftly out the door-Pinatubo's crater has become a pilgrimage site for adventure junkies and geology geeks alike. Plan ahead, at least a week or two, to secure local permits and a dependable four-wheel drive, and set your alarm obscenely early-treks usually kick off at dawn, dodging the midday heat that could turn even the toughest trekker into a whimpering puddle. Budget-wise, count on shelling out roughly ₱2,500-3,000 per person for guides, transport, and the standard post-trek celebratory cold drink. Don't forget sturdy shoes, sunscreen, and a sense of humor; volcanic ash has an uncanny knack for infiltrating every nook and cranny of your gear and your dignity. Yet, despite the gritty inconvenience and the merciless sun, this trek is utterly worth it-because let's face it, casually dropping "that time you conquered a volcano" into dinner conversations never gets old.

Descending into Subic Bay's murky embrace to meet the USS New York, a battle-hardened relic now hosting fish, coral, and perhaps the occasional ghost sailor, feels a bit like crashing a party you weren't invited to-but in scuba gear. Commissioned in 1893, this battlecruiser survived both World Wars, was scuttled by US forces in 1941 to avoid Japanese capture, and now lies silent 27 meters beneath the surface, a rusty testament to humanity's knack for wreckage. Plan your underwater trespass early in the morning when visibility is best; unless, of course, you prefer the eerie thrill of a shadowy twilight dive. Book your guides and gear at least a week in advance, and budget around $80-$120 for a guided dive with gear rental. Pack your courage-and perhaps an underwater flashlight-to illuminate rust-covered gun turrets and barnacle-encrusted corridors. Sure, you're essentially sightseeing at an aquatic graveyard, but how many people can casually claim they've paddled through history, nose-to-nose with a WWI-era battleship? Dive it for the history, the bragging rights, and the surreal experience of floating over cannon barrels once aimed at empires-trust me, it's one abyss worth peering into.

There are beach trips, and then there's spending a night marooned (by choice, you thrill-seeking weirdo) at Anawangin Cove, a strikingly surreal bay hidden near San Antonio, Zambales. Here, nature went delightfully rogue back in 1991 when Mount Pinatubo turned cranky volcano, blanketing the landscape with volcanic ash that morphed into a velvety gray-sand beach-equal parts alien planet and postcard paradise. Accessible strictly by boat or absurdly long hikes (if you're feeling particularly masochistic), you'll want to set out early morning to beat the blazing sun and stake out prime real estate for pitching your tent before the inevitable sunset beer rush. Plan several days ahead, budget around ₱1500-₱2500 per person (that covers boatmen, camping fees, provisions, and-if you're smart-a respectable stockpile of rum), and pack essentials like insect repellent, sunscreen, flashlight, a small cooking kit, and of course, an open mind ready for communal bonfires with delightfully eccentric strangers. Sure, you'll probably wake up sandy, salty, and craving something stronger than instant noodles-but how many other mornings will you greet sunrise surrounded by volcanic mysteries, glittering waves, and the entertaining regret of that midnight dip?

If your idea of wildlife watching stops at fuzzy mammals strolling serenely through meadows, brace yourself-Subic Bay's fruit bat colonies in Cubcub are here to recalibrate your definition of picturesque with their surreal, leathery-winged charm. Witnessing thousands of massive, vaguely Jurassic creatures explode from their treetop perches at twilight, silhouetted against the tangerine dusk, feels like you've stumbled into a lost scene from a Hitchcock film set in the tropics (minus the murder, one hopes). Arrive thirty minutes before sunset, pack bug spray, binoculars, and a flask of something strong enough to steady your nerves-and be prepared to book ahead by at least a couple days during high tourist seasons. At around $10-15 per person, this quirky spectacle is easily kinder to your wallet than a night out in Manila's hipper bars. Historical note: Subic Bay, once home to a U.S. naval base, has happily traded warships for winged mammals, making it a symbol of nature reclaiming its turf. Even if swooping bats aren't your usual cup of tea, the experience-half creepy, half awe-inspiring-is undeniably worth it. At the very least, it gives you bragging rights to casually mention, at your next dull dinner party, the evening you spent bonding with giant fruit bats in the Philippine jungle.

If you've ever fantasized about playing Jacques Cousteau without the hassle of years spent mastering scuba equipment, the Ocean Adventure at Camayan Wharf in Subic Bay might just be your shortcut to salty bravado. Forget the tame aquarium trips of your childhood-this is Southeast Asia marine biodiversity in your swim trunks, where you'll come face-to-fin with vibrant coral fish, amiable sea turtles, and maybe even swap some side-eye with a stingray lurking nonchalantly nearby. Aim for an early-morning dip-around sunrise-to avoid the selfie-stick-wielding crowds and catch the marine creatures at their most curious. Booking at least two days ahead usually does the trick, and set aside roughly $50-70 for an experience worth every peso. Don't forget sunscreen, a water-resistant camera, and a towel (unless you prefer drying off like Hemingway-with rum and bravado). Whether the idea of swimming next to creatures normally spotted on nature documentaries thrills you or slightly terrifies you, the tale you'll spin afterward is worth every cautious paddle or accidental gulp of seawater. After all, life's too short not to flirt with a stingray or two.