WHEN PISO SALE DICTATES MY NEXT DESTINATION

I Paid ₱1 for a Flight to Boracay: Here’s the Story (and My Seat Sale Secrets)

Yup, you read that right. I scored a ₱1 seat sale to Boracay from AirAsia last year.
If you’re like me, always on the lookout for Piso Fares—you know that kind of deal hits different.
Booking seat sales isn’t new to me. I’ve been chasing Piso Fares since 2010, and honestly? My next destination almost always depends on where the “Piso Sale gods” decide to take me. Haha.

Boracay has been a recurring destination in my life… so many times, in fact, that I’ve lost count of how many flights I’ve taken to that island. My first trip there was back in 2012 when I was still taking my culinary course at the Academy for International Culinary Arts. I remember handing out my CV to beachside restaurants and hotels, dreaming that one day I’d land a job as a chef by the ocean.

(And that dream did come true—but not in Boracay though. In 2017, I found myself as a pastry chef by the sea in Bondi Junction, Sydney.)

My trips to Boracay over the years have been a mix of everything: family vacations, barkada trips, work-related travel, culinary trainings, and even solo escapes. So, island updates don’t surprise me much anymore. But despite all that, I still chose Boracay this time around. Why?

Because… come on, the base fare was piso. I’d take that any day.

BORACAY: MY RESET BUTTON THEN AND NOW

Boracay always feels like a reset button for me. In 2023, I was so burnt out from work that the only thought getting me through the day was this: I need to fly out of Manila. I craved somewhere peaceful, somewhere fun, somewhere by the sea—but also somewhere familiar. So I booked a trip to Boracay. Again. For the nth time.

This time, I wasn’t solo. I traveled with friends and their kids. I was the lone wolf of the group, but I thought—why not give them the adventure of a lifetime?

Back in my 20s, I was a very different kind of traveler. I chased itineraries like a mission. Whether it was for work—as a travel photographer and writer for magazines and travel websites—or for personal adventure, I made sure every minute of the trip counted. My days started as early as 7:30 AM, packed with back-to-back activities. And because I was usually the “designated tour guide,” I’d plan everything: where to eat, what to do, how much to spend, where to go next. It was efficient. It was intense. And it was my default travel mode for years.

On that last Boracay trip with my friends, we ticked off every box: parasailing, island hopping, snorkeling, banana boat, paddle boarding, crystal kayak, mermaiding —you name it, we did it all in four days. Yes! With kids! I managed the schedule like a well-oiled machine. Everyone had fun, and I felt accomplished… but a little tired, too.

But last week? Something changed.

For the first time in my traveling history, I had no itinerary. Nothing planned. Nada! And I’ll admit—I wasn’t used to it. But I wanted something different. I wanted to just chill by the beach, feel the breeze, take slow swims in the salty water, nap under the shade of a coconut tree. No thrilling water sports. No timelines. Just presence and peace.

And let me tell you—it felt amazing.

I used to say that “age is not a good companion when traveling.” But maybe it’s not about age—it’s about how we evolve. In my 20s, I could jump from an island trip straight into a hiking assignment, with barely a week’s rest in between. From an island assignment cover in Coron to El Nido, straight to another hiking assignment in Sagada, let’s do it! I was down for anything. Now, just imagining that makes me tired. And honestly? That’s okay. But at the back of my mind, I’m making deep breathes and telling myself… “Oh my goodness! This is it! I’m ageing so fast!”

But then again, sometimes self-care looks like a massage on the sand instead of another adrenaline rush. Sometimes adventure is slowing down. And sometimes, Boracay is exactly what you need—not to explore, but to exhale.

BUDGETING IN YOUR 20s vs. BUDGETING IN YOUR 30s

This year’s trip was supposed to be a wedding anniversary celebration for me and my husband. But of course, our actual anniversary date wasn’t part of the seat sale. So, I did what any seasoned “Piso Sale hunter” would do—I moved the date a little further. That’s my secret, friends: never book on weekends or obvious dates like the 8th, 12th, or 21st (you know, the classic wedding dates and other what-nots). The sweet spot? Off-peak, mid-week flights. If you can book several months ahead, that would get you a bigger chance of piso-sale. I booked this trip last August 2024. I usually book several trips on a sale date. Another secret, I book one-way trips and wait for the next sale to book the trip back. But that is a bit risky. In my case, I booked one-way to Boracay in 2024 and waited for the 2025 piso-sale. Because I was too busy with work, I missed it! So I ended up booking the Independence Day Sale for our flight back which was was not P1. It was P120 Base Fare. It made a lot of difference with the taxes and all.

When it comes to Piso Sales, I’ve learned to be super flexible with dates and times—the more open your schedule, the better your chances. Just a heads up though—you won’t always find Piso Sales during peak seasons like summer, holidays, or long weekends. But also, beware of “aesthetic” dates like 8/8, 12/12, or anything that looks good in a wedding invite—those dates tend to be ridiculously expensive even if it’s technically off-season. You’ve got to be flexible and strategic to score the best deals! I usually book at midnight or during odd hours when most people are asleep (less traffic, more chances). I also use incognito mode and make sure I’ve got all my passenger details ready before the sale even starts—no time to waste once those fares drop! I’m telling you, they run out fast! If it’s a week-long sale, chances are… it’s already gone by the third day. And you’re left with P299 sales and above! And honestly? I always say this: book the flight first, plan later. Let the Piso Fare decide your next destination. 😂 It’s chaotic, but it works!

Just to be transparent with you guys, here’s a sample breakdown of a Piso Sale fare with AirAsia for 2 people when you book online. I added a window seat (because I tend to get anxious when flying, clouds are the best diversion—totally optional though!) and a 20kg check-in baggage. But without the add-ons, the total fare for 2 pax came out to about ₱1,600+—that’s ₱800+ per person, one way. Wild, right? Less than ₱2,000 for two people flying to paradise.

Our anniversary falls on June 8, and flights then were triple the price. Well—technically, just not on sale. So, I waited and booked a cheaper date.

The trade-off? June is monsoon season in the Philippines. Yes, flights are cheap. Accommodations go on sale too. But the weather? Completely unpredictable. You never know when a typhoon might show up uninvited. Thankfully, the skies held up during our trip. My “bring your own sunshine” mantra works each time. Yey!

In my 20s, I couldn’t care less about the weather. I once went tubing in Antique under the rain and ended the day boiling myself in a kawa bath—laughing in the storm. My only real concern back then was budget. I’d start with airfare—it had to be ₱1, or at most ₱599. That meant I could fly round trip to most islands in the country for around ₱3,000 inclusive of taxes. (Except Batanes. Why is Batanes so expensive?!)

Next in the budget list is accommodation. Back in my early days as a travel writer, work usually paid for everything—flights, hotels, tours. I’d get paid for both my photos and articles, and sometimes I’d even receive an allowance to cover extra experiences. There were also trips fully sponsored by hotels, airlines, or travel agencies, hoping to get featured in a magazine or on a website. So naturally, I always chose hotels that were “feature-worthy.”

The routine was simple: book the flight, book the hotel, soak up every detail of the experience (because everything was paid for, and I couldn’t afford to miss a thing), then write the story while it was still fresh in my head—whether I was on a train, a plane, an airport, or holed up somewhere with WiFi and strong coffee. The words had to flow before the moments faded.

But if I was footing the bill from my blood-sweat-and-baking-photography-gig money? Oh, I’d stretch that peso. I could live on coffee and kakanin just to make it work.

This time though—traveling with my husband—was a whole new vibe.

On our first night in Boracay, he fell asleep as soon as we got to the hotel. Goodbye dinner plans. It was raining, it was dark, and we were at the far end of Station 3—far from the buzz, bars, and budget meals. I wanted peace and quiet, and I got it… a little too well. Our hotel was like a world of its own. It had a pool, a rooftop bar, a mini-grocery, its own restaurants, even fire dancers. Basically, you could stay in and still feel like you’re on a vacation island away from the crowd.

So I did what I had never ever done before: I picked up the hotel phone and ordered room service. Expensive? Yes. Stress-free? Absolutely.

My 20-something self would have walked along the shore for 30 minutes just to hunt down the best cheap eats or hidden gems worth writing about. But 30-something me? I just wanted a hot meal and a comfy bed. No judgment, just vibes.

Maybe this is what aging into travel looks like—pay now, process the credit card bill later. 😂 Daaaaaamn.

When Piso Fares Meant Backpacking—Now It’s Luggage, Lounge Access, and Back Pain

Back in the day, I could literally fit all my belongings into a 7kg hand-carry. No problem. I’d breeze through airports with just that, plus a personal bag—usually one stuffed with my camera gear. As a writer and photographer for magazines, I was often sent alone to cover stories. They didn’t need to hire a separate photographer, which was great for them… and even better for me. More photos meant more placements. More placements meant more pay.

The bigger the photo in print, the bigger the paycheck. Full-page, half-page, sidebar, cover? I chased the best shots knowing exactly what they were worth. So I traveled light in everything—except for my camera bag.

I was agile, efficient, and low-maintenance… until I wasn’t.

My maintenance meds alone are a handful. This time, I added an extra 20kg to our tab without blinking. There is absolutely no way I’m carrying a heavy backpack and risking back pain just to save ₱400. LOL. No thanks. I’m past that era.

My husband brought his camera on this trip—and honestly? I couldn’t care less. I didn’t want to hold a camera, think about angles, or frame a single shot. My day job already has me glued to a camera for hours. Vacation mode meant no gear, no deadlines, no SD cards.

I used to be so obsessed with work that I once answered a client call while parasailing. Yep—mid-air, ocean breeze in my face, and still trying to sound professional as my client asked when she could drop off products at my studio. I couldn’t exactly say, “I’m floating above Boracay right now.” 🤦‍♀️ My friends were laughing. I was stressed. It was a mess. That trip was supposed to be a break. Instead, I burned myself out even more.

Never again.

This time around? I turned off all my business ads. I just wanted to check in all our stuff, carry a tiny sling bag with my phone and a bit of cash, and be done with it. No dragging luggage through security. No aching shoulders. No client calls. Just a peaceful cup of coffee before boarding and zero responsibilities. That was the goal.

And for the first time in a long time, I actually met it.

Well—until the cabin crew gave me a bit of “responsibility” by assigning us to the Emergency Exit row. LOL. Every. Single. Time. He got me at “wider leg room”.

I don’t know how or why, but whenever I take domestic flights, they always put me there. Do they see something in the system? Do I give off “she-can-open-the-door-if-it-comes-to-it” energy? 😂

It’s kind of hilarious… but I swear, I take the role seriously. No sleeping, no zoning out—I stay alert, just in case of emergency. I mean, it’s a real responsibility. But on the flight back home? Nope. I had enough. When I saw the crew scanning the line for someone “capable” of sitting in the exit row, I did what any burned-out adult on vacation would do: I avoided eye contact like my life depended on it. I am already a registered PWD after all. Technically, that doesn’t qualify me anymore. 😆

The Only Pressure I Want Now Is From a Massage Therapist

On our second night on the island, my husband again suggested we have dinner in the hotel. By this point, he was curious about the foam party and rooftop DJ the hotel had been hyping. I was honestly looking forward to it too—it sounded fun when we booked.

And the foam party? I enjoyed it! It was a splash of fun—literally. But then we noticed something… all the music was coming from a YouTube channel, and the DJ was just pressing play. Hahahaha! Not exactly what my husband was expecting.

I was never a party person to begin with. My last real party? I honestly can’t even remember. Back in culinary school, I used to laugh at my 30-something classmate, Kuya Mark, who would complain every time we hung out at a loud restobar after class. “Too loud!” he’d say, while we all ordered another round. We teased him then. But on our first night in Boracay, there I was—complaining about how loud the music was in our room. I couldn’t even take a nap. Instant flashback. “Oh my gosh, I thought, I’ve become Kuya Mark.”

But my husband? Totally different breed. Parties were his element in his 20s. He worked hard, partied harder. I, on the other hand, felt the weight of responsibility early on as an only child, raised by a single mom. After college, I jumped into all sorts of gigs—food, baking, photography, travel. While he was hopping bars, I was hopping islands with my camera in hand. He tells me stories of wild nights in the city; I tell him stories of sunrises caught on a cliff for a magazine feature.

This Boracay trip, though? Our vibes finally met in the middle. Travel and party? Okay, we got this.

He was sipping cold beers at the foam party while I was swimming in the rooftop pool with a mango margarita slushy. But once he realized the music was literally from YouTube, he was like, “Nope.” We ditched the rooftop and walked by the beach looking for a real party in Station 2… and ended up in a spa. LOL.

His feet were sore from walking and taking pictures from Station 1 to Station 3 earlier that day (while I was asleep). So instead of dancing, we got a full-body massage for an hour—and it was glorious. I’d choose this over a party any day. And honestly, my 20-something self probably would too… if I could afford it. I mean, ₱950 for a massage in Boracay?! Back then, I’d get a ₱350 massage in Manila and use the ₱600 I saved for some adrenaline activity. But now? This is the 30s, mate. Your body pains speak louder than your wallet. 😂

LAND TOURS, SEAFOOD BILLS, AND GENZ PARTY ENERGY

On our last day, we booked a land tour to explore the “new Boracay” spots: Station X, New Coast, Mangrove Park, Mariner’s. I hadn’t been to these places before and it was refreshing—something new we could both enjoy and share in our travel memories. After years of visiting the same island, it was nice to see it through a slightly different lens.

We wrapped up the day with a grand seafood dinner. And as I chewed my garlic butter shrimp, all I could think was, “This is two weeks’ worth of groceries back home.” 😂 I handle all the budgeting at home, so naturally, my inner calculator couldn’t switch off. If you follow me on Facebook, you know I’m all about meal plans, price tracking, and stretching every peso.

My husband, of course, just laughed and told me to stop calculating and just enjoy. “We’re on vacation,” he said. “It’s okay to spend every once in a while.” And he’s right. But the 20-something me was shaking inside, holding onto that peso like it could fund an entire day’s worth of island activities. Meanwhile, our bank account was blinking at the back of my mind like a low-battery warning. Hahahaha. That dinner? Delicious. Memorable. Worth it. But yeah—still dizzying. And not from the seafood. Hahahaha.

After dinner, we decided to finally find a real party. For real this time. Not a spa.  We walked around Station 2, bought the usual souvenir magnets (because no trip is complete without one, this is the only thing that hasn’t evolved), and followed the lights and music to track down where the crowd was heading.

And we found it. It’s called OM. It’s the first thing that comes up on Google when you search “Where to party in Boracay?”

At first glance, the place looked chill—just a restaurant with a DJ and some colorful lights. We figured, cool, we can hang here for a bit. But come 11 PM, the chill vibes evolved into full-on Gen Z chaos: loud beats, bright strobes, free-flowing drinks, and wild dancing in every direction.

And us? We stayed seated—at the very far end of the party scene. Sipping our drinks, bobbing our heads to the beat, soaking it in without actually getting up. That was our “Millenial” version of partying. Low-key. Observant. A little margarita, a little people-watching. Maybe some judging too… LOL. Relaaxx! Just kidding! A lot of no thanks to the dance floor.

At one point, several people came up to us asking if we were influencers—probably because my husband was holding a thick-lensed Sony. Dear Lord, this generation is wild. Everyone wants to be seen. Everyone wants to be in the frame. The moment they saw the camera, they’d go, “Ate!” and instantly strike a pose. Hahaha!

It was honestly fun shooting that night. Totally different from how I usually shoot—no setups, no styling, no pressure. Just pure, unfiltered chaos and color. By the end of it, both our batteries were drained—our camera battery and our social battery. LOL

Gone are the days when I had to politely ask people if I could take their photo for a magazine or a website feature. Now? People strike a pose the second you lift your camera. No pitch. No approval. No editorial deadline. Just content.

It’s funny. My 20-something self would’ve been behind the camera, taking shots for work, maybe interviewing a local chef, writing captions in my head. But 30-something me? I just sat there, grateful.

Grateful I wasn’t on assignment.
Grateful I wasn’t chasing a deadline.
Grateful I could enjoy the moment—loud music, overpriced shrimp, blinking bank account and all.

Styling Plates, Not Pages—But the Photographer in Me Never Left

This time, I wasn’t in Boracay as a travel writer, nor a photographer.
But I still saw the island in frames.

The food, the sunrise, the sunset, the beach, the ocean—every moment felt like a scene waiting to be captured. I may have only been holding my phone, but my instinct to shoot everything never left me. And the moment I picked up my husband’s camera and started walking around, a fellow photographer spotted me right away. He approached, we talked, I gave him my Instagram handle—@tablesnapstudio—and in no time, he was back at our table.

A photographer knows a fellow photographer when they see one. And it felt good to be seen that way. We clicked immediately. We even got invited to join a shoot—right there, on the island, in the middle of a vacation. It could’ve been the highlight of the trip, a dream moment for any creative. But our flight was on the same day. The timing just didn’t align. Still, being invited to collaborate in one of the best food scenes in the country? That was a win in itself. If we had one more day, I probably would’ve said yes. Even if it meant picking up the camera for “just a few quick snaps.”

But maybe that was God’s way of reminding me:
This is a vacation.
And yet… the opportunities are there. They’ll always be there.

In my 20s, it was work hard, travel harder—even when travel was work.
Now in my 30s, it’s work hard for peace, for the lifestyle I want, for the dreams I’ve quietly redefined.
Work hard for the joy of it—but balance it with rest. With stillness. Because at the end of the day, we weren’t born just to pay bills and die.

Life is a mix of moments—some to hustle, some to breathe, some to laugh, and some to simply say Thank You.

For this trip?
I’m just grateful.
Nothing more, nothing less.