Batanes and the Search for Purity

It was less a story than a prayer. For this place that had seized me to remain pure, to become constant, so that I could return one day and find its place in my heart still intact. 

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In the Heart of the North

We stood at the back of a jeep and clung on for dear life as it nosedived into steep slopes and bounced around the rolling terrain. All the while, sand flew around us and caked us in a thin layer of sand-sweat icing.

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