Laguna’s historic towns offer more than lakeside views; they hold centuries of faith and devotion.

On the Third Sunday of Lent, I joined Bajo Las Campanas for a pilgrimage across seven historic churches in the central-eastern part of the province, following communities that grew along the shores of Laguna de Bay. It was my fourth time joining them, and once again the journey became both enriching and personal, especially with several churches along the route offering opportunities for plenary indulgence.

Our first stop was Nuestra Señora del Pilar Church in Alaminos.

The town was originally devoted to St. Joachim, but its spiritual focus shifted after an ivory image of the Virgin Mary was reportedly discovered in a local well. Since then, the town has honored Nuestra Señora del Pilar, whose devotion has deep roots in Spain.

The parish maintains strong spiritual ties with the Cathedral-Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar in Zaragoza, Spain, the shrine associated with one of the earliest Marian traditions in Christianity. 

According to tradition, the Virgin Mary appeared in 40 A.D. to St. James the Apostle on the banks of the Ebro River while she was still living in Jerusalem, making it a rare example of bilocation. 

During my Camino Portugués last year, on our way to the Cathedral dedicated to St. James, we prayed daily to her for guidance along the journey.

As a sister parish of Zaragoza, the spiritual graces and indulgences associated with the Spanish shrine are extended to this parish as well. To symbolize this relationship, the Cathedral-Basilica in Zaragoza gifted a mantle (manto) of Our Lady of the Pillar to the parish in Alaminos.

From Alaminos we traveled to San Isidro Labrador Church in Calauan. The town’s history is often overshadowed by a notorious crime associated with a former mayor who ironically played a role in rebuilding the church.

Local historians say that the name Calauan comes from the “rusty” (kalawang) water that appeared during the construction of the church and the discovery of a stone cross.

The church is dedicated to San Isidro Labrador, the patron saint of farmers, reflecting the town’s deep agricultural roots.

Our next stop was San Antonio de Padua Church in Pila, a place that also brought back personal memories. Growing up, my mother would always pray to St. Anthony whenever something went missing. I also never forget his feast day because it falls on the same day as my father’s birthday, June 13.

The church in Pila is widely believed to be the first church in the Philippines, and possibly in the world, dedicated to St. Anthony of Padua. Because of its historical importance and long-standing Franciscan presence dating back to 1578, the church was eventually elevated to the National Shrine of San Antonio de Padua.

Pila itself is equally remarkable. Known historically as La Noble Villa de Pila, the town preserves one of the most intact Spanish-era plaza complexes in the country. The church, municipal hall, and surrounding ancestral houses still follow the original Spanish town layout.

The shrine also maintains a spiritual connection with the Pontifical Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua in Italy. A first-class relic was gifted to the shrine, symbolizing this relationship. Because of this link, pilgrims who visit Pila may receive the same plenary indulgences granted to those who travel to the basilica in Padua.

From Pila, we continued to Immaculada Concepción Church in Santa Cruz.

The church honors the Immaculate Concepcion as its principal patroness, with the Holy Guardian Angels serving as its secondary patron.

Our pilgrimage then brought us to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe Church in Pagsanjan, the first shrine dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe in the Philippines.

In 1938, Pope Pius XI issued a pontifical decree granting the canonical coronation of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe of Pagsanjan, making it the first Marian image in Laguna to receive a papal bull for coronation. The ceremony never took place after the original church and image were destroyed during World War II, but the rediscovered decree confirms the image had technically been “coronada all along.”

Next we visited San Sebastian Martir Church in Lumban, located in what is widely known as the Embroidery Capital of the Philippines.

Historically, Lumban played a central role in the evangelization of Laguna. Established in 1578, it was the first Franciscan mission in the entire province. Because of its importance, it originally held jurisdiction over neighboring towns such as Santa Cruz, Pagsanjan, and Cavinti before they became independent parishes.

The church also shares a historical connection with the Minor Basilica of San Pedro Bautista in Quezon City through their founder, San Pedro Bautista, a Spanish Franciscan missionary and martyr.

For the Jubilee Year of Saint Francis, which commemorates the 800th anniversary of the saint’s death, plenary indulgences are granted to the faithful who visit Franciscan churches or places connected to the Franciscan family. Both Lumban and Pila, because of their Franciscan heritage, are among the places associated with this spiritual privilege.

Our final stop was perhaps the most unexpected for me: San Antonio de Padua Church in San Antonio, in the town officially called Kalayaan.

I probably would never have discovered this place if not for the Bajo Las Campanas tour.

The church sits in a quiet town nestled between the foothills of the Sierra Madre and the shores of Laguna de Bay. The road leading there offers a scenic ascent, with stretches of forest and occasional bird’s-eye views of the lake and surrounding lowlands.

After a full day of visiting historic churches and learning about their stories, arriving in Kalayaan felt like a peaceful closing to the pilgrimage.

Seven churches, seven towns, and countless stories of faith and history, all in one Lenten Sunday along the lakeshore of Laguna de Bay.

Valentine’s Day has never been a big holiday for me. As a single girl, I usually don’t have grand plans or candlelit dinners waiting. It’s just another day on the calendar.

But this year was different.

I had my most memorable Valentine’s Day yet.

I joined the Concerned Aduana Mountaineers of the Philippines (CAMP) on a dental mission at Lebeng Elementary School in Kabayan, near Mount Pulag. I saw it as a chance to continue my advocacy and revisit a place that has always meant something to me.

I’ve been an honorary member of CAMP for years, and they’ve long partnered with my group, Trails to Empower Kids (TREK), in various outreach projects. 

We left Manila late at night, beginning a long, sleepless journey that would take us through zigzag mountain roads by dawn. Somewhere between the sharp turns and waves of dizziness, I caught myself wondering: why do I still put myself through this?

But in the quiet of that thought, I also remembered why I do what I do.

And maybe that’s what love can look like too. Not always easy. Sometimes it’s exhausting. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable. But you choose it anyway.

By early morning, we arrived near the ranger station of Mount Pulag and transferred to a government vehicle that brought us to the school. The day greeted us with cool mountain air, rolling slopes lined with vegetable gardens, and that quiet kind of peace you only find in high places.

The community

The locals welcomed us with a generous feast. I was still nursing my dizziness and honestly felt like I might throw up at any moment, so I kept things light — greeting friends, catching up in conversation, checking in with the organizers, and figuring out where I could be most helpful.

After resting for a while, we went to the kindergarten classroom.. We unpacked the educational toys we brought, lined them neatly on the shelves, assembled a table that doubled as a Lego-style brick pad, and started preparing loot bags filled with small toys and snacks.

We were tired from the overnight trip, but somehow energized by each other and by the children eagerly watching everything we pulled out of the boxes.

When the program began, the day became even more special. The local Ibaloi and Kalanguya students performed the bindiyan, which the teachers told us translates to “dance until you get tired.” It is traditionally performed as thanksgiving for a bountiful harvest. 

After the program, the dental mission started, and the brave kids who finished their treatment received loot bags. 

Later, we returned to the ranger station and settled into our homestay, SMR. 

It was so different from the last time I visited — more than a decade ago. Back then, there was only this green wooden house, outdoor comfort rooms where we took freezing baths after a climb, and maybe one or two tiny stores. Now, there are homestays, restaurants, and souvenir shops. It’s almost unrecognizable.

the only structure we remember

We had barbecue while reminiscing about our past climbs.

We planned to sleep early for an early assault to the summit, but because of the volume of climbers, our start was moved to 5 AM. In hindsight, it was a gift. We were properly rested.

The hike to the summit is about eight kilometers from the ranger station. We began in darkness, walking along a quiet road under cool air. Slowly, the sky shifted, from deep indigo to streaks of pink and gold, as the sun prepared to rise.

After about an hour, the trail led us upward toward Camp 1, then onward to Camp 2. The stretch between the camps passes through Mount Pulag’s famous mossy forest, a dreamlike world where trees are wrapped in thick moss, branches draped with hanging lichens, and the forest floor cushioned with damp earth and roots. 

Years ago, we spent our first day climbing to Camp 2, camping overnight, then waking at 4 AM for the summit push. Now, climbers begin as early as 1 AM from the ranger station.

From Camp 2, the landscape opens into sweeping grasslands, rolling hills covered in dwarf bamboo and golden-brown grasses that sway endlessly with the wind. The vastness of the grassland was breathtaking, just as I remember it. It feels exposed and raw, humbling in its openness, with no more forest cover, just you, the wind, and the mountain.

It took us longer than expected to reach the summit this time. We weren’t fully prepared for the climb, we took long rests, and had to give way to descending climbers. 

Going down was much faster. We stopped taking photos, and the trail was empty. We barely needed to rest on the descent. It took us less than half the time it took to go up. The last stretch is now easier, too, because motorcycles wait at the final kilometer to bring climbers back.

While many things about Mount Pulag have transformed, one thing hasn’t. The mountain still reminds me why I come back. The children still remind me why I keep going.

My Valentine’s Day may not come with flowers, chocolates, and champagne, but it gave me moments I’ll never forget.

San Miguel, Bulacan, is a town where revolutions were planned and cinema legends once walked. It is almost unthinkable that it has been quietly forgotten. Travelers rarely mention it for heritage, food, or nature, and I have to admit that I never had a clear image of it myself.

It was only through the tireless work of the local heritage group Pamana de Mayumo that I finally had a chance to appreciate the town, joining a carefully curated tour organized in partnership with Manilakad, led by Mr. Jing Ordona.

San Miguel is a first-class, landlocked municipality in the northern part of Bulacan, about 76 kilometers from Manila. The town is steeped in history: it was the birthplace of the Republic of Biak-na-Bato and served as a crucial hideout for revolutionary forces. Beyond its political significance, San Miguel is renowned for its 19th-century heritage houses and is celebrated as the birthplace of pastillas de leche, the town’s signature sweet.

Originally called San Miguel de Mayumo, the name honors Miguel Pineda, its first leader, and incorporates the Kapampangan word mayumo, meaning “sweet,” a fitting nod to both its history and culinary heritage. It is common to hear locals greet visitors with “Mayumong umaga” or “Mayumong araw.”

It became San Miguel after a stone image of Saint Michael the Archangel was discovered in Madlum Cave, prompting the townspeople to adopt him as their patron.

And our exploration began at his shrine.

The town’s spiritual center, the Diocesan Shrine and Parish of San Miguel Arcangel, is located along De Leon Street in Barangay Poblacion, just a tricycle ride away from where the bus dropped us off.

Aside from its religious significance, the church grounds serve as the final resting place of historical figures such as Maximo Viola, a native of San Miguel and close friend of Dr. Jose Rizal who financed the printing of Noli Me Tangere, as well as Tomas Tecson and other members of the Tecson family, whose ancestral home once served as Emilio Aguinaldo’s headquarters prior to his journey to Pangasinan.

From there, we walked around the block, in signature Manilakad fashion, before heading to Engalla’s Buro, where we learned how to make this Filipino fermented rice dish. We watched the process and learned that not everyone is cut out to make buro well.

Baby of Engalla's Buro

We then proceeded to Rizal Street, where several of San Miguel’s most remarkable heritage houses stand.

First on the itinerary was the Doña Narcisa “Sisang” B. De Leon Residence. Known as the “Grand Matriarch of Philippine Movies,” Donya Sisang was the driving force behind LVN Pictures, a studio that defined Philippine cinema for decades. The films Bayaning Third World and Itim were both shot here.

Next was the Simon Tecson Mansion, an imposing structure that holds centuries of revolutionary history within its walls. Simon Tecson, who served in the Filipino armed forces during both the Spanish and American periods, hosted General Emilio Aguinaldo here just days before the signing of the Pact of Biak-na-Bato.

The mansion itself is a testament to both defensive strategy and architectural ingenuity. Secret passages, hidden nooks, and small openings functioned like a rudimentary version of modern surveillance, allowing residents to observe the outside world while remaining unseen.

Further along Rizal Street stood the Ceferino de Leon House, another stately residence connected to a prominent family. Ceferino Santiago de Leon, a lawyer, Malolos Congress member, and Philippine senator, once lived here. He was also the father of Trinidad de Leon Roxas, the country’s fifth First Lady and wife of President Manuel Roxas.

A glass urn within the house reportedly holds soil stained with the blood of Dr. Jose Rizal. Sadly, it can now only be admired from a distance due to damage caused by a careless film crew.

Our final heritage stop was the Sempio Mansion, also known as the Damaso Sempio House. This home welcomed revolutionary figures such as General Gregorio del Pilar and General Artemio Ricarte.

This was the most surreal stop for me, as I finally saw in person the life-sized Last Supper tableau, which I had previously encountered only through television features, magazines, and online publications.

One fascinating insight I learned here was that in San Miguel, each religious statue was traditionally assigned about a hectare of land, with the income used for maintenance, clothing, and overall care. In the case of the Last Supper, around 20 hectares were allotted to cover the 12 apostles, Jesus Christ, Veronica, and the two servants.

Lunch followed, which was another trip highlight.

Lunch was served at the rest house of Thea Munsayac, our lead organizer, located in Biak-na-Bato. The property has also served as a filming location for several movies.

Our table was filled with an array of dishes: arroz valenciana, fried and grilled fish, pancit, buro, pastillas, and other delicacies that celebrated the richness of Filipino cuisine. Beyond the food, there were stories shared by members of Pamana de Mayumo and Thea’s father, Jose Rey Munsayac, an author and multiple-time Palanca Award winner. It was also the first time we truly got to know everyone who joined the tour.

More sweets followed after lunch. We visited Andrea’s Sweet Delicacies, where we saw the process of making pastillas using only carabao’s milk, gently cooked with sugar until thick and creamy, then rolled and dusted in sugar.

The day concluded with a visit to Biak-na-Bato National Park, a historic and natural treasure in its own right.

It is a rugged natural reserve known for its limestone cliffs, caves, rivers, and dense forest cover, and it served as a hideout for Filipino revolutionaries during the fight against Spanish rule.

I have hiked Mt. Manalmon, one of the park’s more popular destinations, several times before, but this was my first time visiting this part of the park, and I can honestly say I had been missing out.

Our one-kilometer hike to Bahay Paniki, which literally means house of bats, rewarded us with one of nature’s most spectacular sights, as countless bats emerged from the cave at dusk. It was the perfect cap to our one-day heritage, food, and nature exploration.

If you want to experience this, you may contact Manilakad or Pamana de Mayumo.