From San Mateo, Rizal, to the quiet coast of the Bondoc Peninsula: bibingka pit stops, a winding backdoor through eastern Laguna, and a dramatic sunset to cap off the day.
We left San Mateo past 7 in the morning with nothing planned beyond the destination and a rough idea of the road. That’s how most of our long rides begin. Loose enough to accommodate surprises, tight enough to have somewhere to be by nightfall.
The route out of Rizal is familiar to anyone who’s used Antipolo as a launching point: the climb through Pililia where you see the towering windmills upclose, and the gradual descent into the quieter side of Laguna. We weren’t chasing speed. At this point, we were just settling into the ride.
Through the backdoor of eastern Laguna
The road through Mabitac to Pagsanjan is a stretch that doesn’t get written about much, which is exactly why it works. Traffic is light, save for a few roadblocks in intersections. The landscape opens before you. On your left, you’ll see one town and another, and on your right is the vast Laguna Lake, with its murky, greenish and brown waters that you can evidently see even when you’re on a bike.
We stopped in Luisiana, as always, for the usual bibingka stand just off the main road. There’s a particular one in the stretch we’ve been coming back to for years.
The bibingka comes warm, wrapped in banana leaf, and the buko juice is free and cold. We’ve never timed how long we stay, but it’s always longer than intended. We take our time here, to rest and replenish.
Here, we could use a few minutes of resting and some chit-chat with the vendors or even the coconut delivery guys.
From Lucban, we pushed through to Tayabas-Pagbilao Road, where the Malagonlong Bridge makes for a good reason to slow down. It’s old Spanish-era stone, sitting low over the water, easy to miss if you’re moving too fast.
Mount Banahaw holds its position in the distance through most of this stretch. It’s the mountain that doesn’t demand attention but keeps showing up in your peripheral vision anyway.
There’s a good spot somewhere along the stretch of Lucban where, at a lucky midday, the mountain would appear for you. You just got to take that shot.
Turning right into the Bondoc
Past Pagbilao, the road commits. One long stretch, and then a right turn into the Bondoc Peninsula that changes the texture of everything — the air, the traffic, the pace of the towns.
The Bondoc Peninsula doesn’t get the same circulation as other Quezon Province destinations, and it shows: quieter roads and few signboards.
The peninsula’s coast has that quality common to overlooked places — beaches that are good precisely because no one has had reason to perform for them yet. We weren’t stopping to swim. We had somewhere to be.
Arriving at Unisan Sands
We pulled into Unisan Sands with maybe twenty minutes before the light changed. The entrance fee for an overnight stay was ₱270 each, plus ₱350 for the moto camping, reasonable for a beachfront resort with a proper camping area shaded by coconut palms.
There were only a handful of other campers when we arrived. We found a spot that felt private without being isolated and started settling in.
At around 5:50 in the afternoon, the sun began its descent. We stopped what we were doing without anyone saying anything.
That’s the thing about a good sunset, it doesn’t need to be announced.
One moment you’re unpacking, the next you’re standing still with your hands at your sides, watching the light do what it does.
The sky over Unisan that evening went through several phases before it finished. Orange that deepened into something closer to copper, then a thin line of pink above the horizon before the colors receded entirely. Some people had their phones out. Most of us just watched.
It’s one of the best sunsets I’ve seen from a coast — and I’ve watched the sun go down in Boracay, in La Union, from a ferry deck somewhere south of Manila. Unisan holds its own.
We made dinner after dark, the way camping meals always feel better than they have any right to.
The Bondoc Peninsula stayed quiet around us. Long ride, steady road, a coastal town most people don’t know to look for — and a sky that delivered on everything the day had promised since 7 in the morning.
Under the starry skies, and with the sounds of the crickets blending with the waves, we slept well that night.
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