BAGUIO CITY – There is something humbling about realizing tourists have discovered more of your city than you have.
As someone from La Trinidad who had visited Mount Costa years ago, long before the disaster connected all our brains to social batteries, returning to the sanctuary of the garden hidden in the mountains of Benguet we felt a strange feeling. Known, but changed. Silent, but alive in a new way.
And somehow, the whole place radiates the healing of the forest and the energy of the main character.
Not in the sense of an organized lobby. More like the kind of place where your screen time suddenly decreases because your body remembers what silence is like.
Located along the Pico-Lamtang Road in La Trinidad, Benguet, Mount Costa, short for Mountain Conservation in Sustainable Tourism, has grown into one of the Cordillera’s largest ecotourism destinations.
Known as the “Green Living Room” of the area, the six-hectare property combines forest scenery, art, conservation, and the Cordilleran region into a grand walkable sanctuary away from the hustle and bustle of nearby Baguio City.
Perhaps what makes it even more compelling now is that some of its most memorable moments were created during the pandemic.

A garden that refused to stay frozen in time
Mount Costa’s roots go back to the Acosta family’s strawberry farming history.
According to the family’s historical marker inside the property, the late Colonel Voltaire Acosta and his wife Cleotilde were among the pioneers of strawberry wine and preserves in Baguio in the late 1970s. When a virus destroyed the strawberry crop in the 1990s, the family finally stopped growing strawberries on the land.
Years later, the property turned into something completely different.
Instead of abandoning the hillside, the Acostas turned it into a living landscape of themed gardens, forest trails, installations, and ecological spaces designed around the natural landscape itself.
Third-generation family member Verona Acosta, who led the tour, shared how the gardens continued to evolve even during the uncertainty of the pandemic years.
That evolution can be seen in one of Mount Costa’s most disturbing creations: Enchantress.
Hidden within the forest landscape, a reclining female figure appears almost hidden on the hillside. The sculpture was created from sand, stone, and concrete during the disaster, it was intentionally created to be a part of nature itself. Instead of artificial hair, leaves and creeping plants were allowed to grow naturally around his head and body for a while.
He does not dominate the environment. He gets lost in it. And maybe that’s what makes him unforgettable.
There is something deeply Cordilleran in allowing nature to finish the work of art.

Twenty-four gardens, endless paths
Mount Costa has 24 themed pocket gardens connected by approximately 5.5 kilometers of walking trails divided into color-coded trails.
Blue Trail relies on installations, structures, and interactive artistic spaces. The Yellow Path features flowers, plant collections and plant arrangements that change with the seasons.
But labels barely capture the experience.
One minute you’re wading through geometric flowery grids that look like they’ve been lifted from a fantasy game map. Next, you stumble upon Zen-inspired meditation spaces, koi ponds, mirrored walkways, frozen wire sculptures in mid-conversation, or hidden corners of the forest that unfortunately feel like a movie.
Some parks are for play. Some feel therapeutic.
And for visitors accustomed to excessive excitement, Mount Costa’s main attraction may be its refusal to rush people.
You wander instead of eating. You pause instead of scrolling.
Even the installation feels reflective rather than functional. The signs in the garden speak of growth, landscape, saplings, and infinity with an almost poetic fidelity that somehow works in the middle of the forest.
Corny? A little. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

Slow tourism in the age of fatigue
Throughout the Cordilleras, tourism has always walked a fine line between economic opportunities and environmental pressures.
Places are overcrowded. Quiet cities become the theme of the content. Nature is beautiful before it is treated as ecology.
Mount Costa feels like an attempt to counter that.
Instead of operating like a typical tourist park full of loud attractions, it leans towards slow tourism, encouraging visitors to sit, walk, look, and breathe.
That feels especially important after the pandemic years, when green spaces became an emotional outlet for many Filipinos dealing with isolation, anxiety, burnout, and digital fatigue.
And maybe that explains why Mount Costa resonates now in a way it didn’t before.
The place doesn’t need your attention. It’s just waiting for you to figure it out.

What visitors should know
Mount Costa is located in La Trinidad, Benguet, about 30 minutes from Baguio City depending on traffic and weather.
The nature park is open every day from 7 am to 5 pm, including holidays.
Current entree packages range from P300 to ₱P50, with some bundled options including snacks or lunch. Benguet residents can get discounted rates when they present a valid ID. Advance booking through Mount Costa’s official Facebook page can also offer lower rates.
Visitors are advised to wear comfortable non-slip shoes because the trails involve uphill walks, uneven gravel paths, and slippery surfaces during foggy or wet weather. Light jackets and insect repellent are also highly recommended.
The best months to visit are generally from November to May during summer, when the flowers are more vibrant and the trails are easier to pass.

The forest still knows how to heal
Perhaps what makes Mount Costa linger long after the visit is that you don’t feel overwhelmed.
It feels patient.
Gardens do not compete with the forest. The idols sink into the ground. Even the Enchantress eventually gave up her hair with leaves and vines.
In a time when everything online is fighting to be seen, Mount Costa feels comfortable to exist.
Quietly.
And somewhere among the mist, the pine trees, the winding paths, and that big woman slowly sleeping in the leaves, you remember something the mountains have always known:
Healing doesn’t always come with a bang. – Rappler.com




