Philippines

Palawan’s bustling capital is mainly a gateway to El Nido and the beaches of the west coast, but “Puerto” does have enough diversions to warrant a day or two if you’re passing through. A rising food scene, some nightlife along main drag Rizal Ave, and a growing number of boutique hotels increase the appeal.

Panay's largest city is just right. It's big enough to offer a scaled-down version of the urban comforts you get in Manila, yet small enough to remain accessible and down-to-earth. Ilonggo, the people of Iloilo, are rightfully proud and connected to their city's past and invested in its future. Come here for fascinating history, buoyant nightlife and a side trip to rural Guimaras island.

If you're flying into Cebu City, nearby Mactan (sometimes referred to as Lapu-Lapu) is where you'll actually land. Connected to Cebu City by two bridges, this busy island has some great diving off its southeast coast, and its all-inclusive resorts are popular with weekending visitors from Manila, Hong Kong and Korea. For independent travellers, the main draw is island-hopping trips in the Bohol Strait between Cebu and Bohol.

With its rugged mountain interior, unspoiled beaches, underwater coral gardens and urban grooves, Negros has the most to offer in western Visayas after Boracay. This is particularly true of its southern coast, stretching from Danjugan Island around the tip to Bais, where diving is big business. Here the natural base is Dumaguete, a funky college town and expat hang-out. In the north, Bacolod has culinary treats, nearby Silay is a living museum of historic homes, and the cool mountain resorts of Mt Kanlaon are a refreshing alternative to the beach.

Hemmed in on all sides by dramatic rice terraces, Banaue is directly accessible from Manila and can sometimes get overwhelmed by visitors. It's hard to blame them: the local mud-walled rice terraces are pleasingly different from the stone-walled terraces in most of the Cordillera. World Heritage listed, they're impressive not only for their chiseled beauty but because they were introduced around 2000 years ago.

Bisected by a virtually impassable mountain range – aptly named the High Rolling Mountains – rugged Mindoro is part tropical paradise, part remote getaway. Forming a dramatic backdrop almost everywhere, the mountains separate the island’s two provinces: rough and rugged Mindoro Occidental to the west, and more prosperous Mindoro Oriental to the east.

Sitting among mist-shrouded mountains, tiny Sagada is the closest thing the Philippines has to a Southeast Asian backpacker hub, yet it's possible to find tranquillity along its many hiking trails and get your adrenalin pumping on adventures in the depths of its caves. There's a mystical element to this village, a former refuge for intelligentsia fleeing dictatorship: the centuries-old coffins high up along limestone cliffs lie close to the sky, and days and nights are peaceful thanks to the lack of tricycles or much other traffic.

To many travellers, North Luzon is simply the Cordillera. These spiny mountains, which top out at around 2900m, are beloved, worshipped and feared in equal doses by those who witness them and those who live among them.

The tiny island of Pamilacan, adrift in the Bohol Sea about 23km east of Balicasag, is cetacean central, its rich waters supporting marine megafauna including whales and dolphins, manta rays and sharks. Islanders have always lived off the sea, hunting whales until the ban in 1992, then targeting sharks and rays. In 1993 Sulliman University recorded 30 whale sharks landing in Pamilacan in just 44 days. If you visited the island in the mid-1990s, lanes would be full of shark and manta meat drying in the sun. Finally, in 1998, whale shark and manta hunting were officially banned.

A region that invites intrepid exploration, North Luzon encapsulates a nation in miniature. Surfers race waves onto sunny beaches, where whites sands are lapped by teal waters. Machete-carrying mountain tribespeople are quick to smile and quicker to share their rice wine. An impenetrable jungle hides endemic critters. In Spanish colonial cities, sunlight breaks through seashell windows. Far-flung islands with pristine landscapes greet few visitors.