A last excursion. A nine-hour bus journey has brought us to the little town of Banaue, in the mountains of northern Luzon. The market is still functioning although evening is approaching. There’s not much more than the simple necessities of life to buy up here of course.

Looking away to the north we can see a few of the rice terraces for which this whole area is famous.

Various kinds of bread and sweetmeats hygienically wrapped in nylon bags. Surprising, isn’t it? Yes, it is rather surprising, but it has to be said that however primitive it may appear to be up here, the standard of hygiene is really quite good. There are no bed bugs in our hostel, and the food is clean and tasty.

Let’s go for a little walk up the hill before the sun goes down. The rice terraces look at their best in this light. How do they maintain them? Well, here’s a woman doing just that, removing weeds from a wall before they can undermine it.

A lone Ifugao tribesman stands framed against the background of his homeland. Amazingly, he speaks some English.