Revisiting Siargao after Six Years

A lot has changed in Siargao since the fist time I visited in 2012. The quiet island where I found peace and serenity during one of my first memorable solo trips felt uncomfortably crowded. Despite it being the lean season, direct flights have made the island more accessible to international and local tourists. Tourism is booming in General Luna.

It wasn’t really that bad. I’ve been to other destinations that are far more crowded. But that’s the problem when you go back to places you’ve already been to and experienced a different way. You have a certain image in your head of how a place is supposed to be and get shocked at how things change in just a few years.

I couldn’t eat in the restaurants that I wanted to check out because of the long line of people waiting to eat there. The beaches I visited during my solo island-hopping trip were full of giggling tourists waving their arms in the air for photo ops. The Cloud 9 Surfing area felt crowded with tourists all eager for surfing lessons despite the shallow waters. The beachfront lodge with the fan room I stayed in before has been transformed into a dorm room with a row of double deck beds for 30 people all sharing one bathroom.

Siargao has become a destination that attracts barkadas and families and not a place for introverts who just want to embark on an solo backpacking trip. I actually felt bad traveling and eating out alone because everyone was in groups.

What once felt like a novelty of renting a motorbike to explore the island felt a little bit too ordinary now that everyone seemed to be doing it. Motorbike rentals are a dime a dozen in between all the beach bars, hotels and souvenir shops lining the main tourism road. In fact, rentals have gotten cheaper. In 2012, it cost about P500 a day for whole day use. Now, you can get bikes for as little as P350 a day. Tourists all go around on the same neatly organized island-hopping package tours, which I also booked the next day for convenience.

While hanging out in my homestay’s common lounge area (where the WiFi signal was strongest), I overheard the conversation of a group of foreign backpackers who were also checked in there. It seems like there’s an established backpacker trail of Philippines. Kind of like the local version of the Southeast Asian banana pancake trail. With the closure of Boracay at the time, everyone seemed to have the same checklist of places to visit, including Siargao, Palawan, Cebu and Bohol. The backpackers were trading tips on what they had done and the “must-try” experiences in the Philippines.

“Have you tried whale shark watching in Oslob?” asked one guest to another.

“We just came from El Nido and Coron,” said another, as she showed the others some photos on her phone. They all traded Instagram handles, liking one another’s latest photos.

I’ve been seeing this lately on social media. Foreign backpackers flocking to exactly the same spots in the country. The poses are always the same. Blonde girls with their backs to the camera preferably in nude-colored butt-baring bikinis while exploring beaches and waterfalls seem to be the most popular. Shirtless guys showing off their abs with the staged candid “look far away” gaze that has become the go-to pose on Instagram. Heavy filters make everything look better than real life that you feel your own photos of the same place look so drab and ordinary in comparison.

Girls all seem to wear a straw hat. It’s the same damn hat that I have on occasion borrowed from lifestyle influencer companions and posed with because all the girls seem to be doing it. Then there are the couple travelers. The ones who seem to have professional photographers with them all the time to capture “candid” moments themselves looking longingly at each other as if they’re the only two people in the world regardless of how crowded a place really is. Plus points if there’s a painstakingly elaborate set-up or fairy lights in the middle of nowhere.

For Siargao, THE requisite shot to take is to stand on a diving board looking down at Sugba Lagoon while a companion takes your photo from afar for dramatic effect. The first time I saw a photo like that, I found myself wanting to go there just so that I would have the same exact shot. The more I saw it cropping up on my Instagram feed, complete with some inspirational travel quote about conquering fear or “the world being a book and those who do not travel read only one page” cliche, the more I questioned my motives for wanting to go there. Do I want to go there just for the photo or because I really wanted to go there? Despite it being wildly popular and good for search engine optimization purposes, I decide not to go there.

More eavesdropping at my homestay. “Did you guys try surfing? Just until I got a shot of myself standing up on the board. That counts as surfing, right?” Laughter all around.

I don’t want to force myself to make friends or make the effort to indulge in shallow small talk. I just play with some of the pets around the homestay. Animals are so much easier to get along with than people.

I found myself retracing exactly what I did on the island during my first solo trip six years ago. I revisited the Cloud 9 area just to see the surfers in action. For dinner, I ate in a restaurant that had a familiar name and ordered the same thing – calamares. Mainly because all their other dishes were good for 2-3 people. What used to be a humble carinderia has expanded into a larger dining space with lots of tables to cater to customers.

An overly friendly cat joins me this time and tries to steal food off my plate as I’m eating before the waitress shoos him away as other diners look on. I don’t know if cats can sense they have a human slave among their midst but I find myself being approached by a lot of cats wherever I go now. Or maybe I just notice them more out of guilt when I’m constantly leaving home and traveling solo.

I could have easily looked up the information online, but I find myself driving to the Dapa Port just to ask about the available ferry skeds to Surigao just to have something to do. After a morning of island-hopping, which should have been the highlight of my trip, I drive randomly to Malinao bringing my convertible travel pillow-slash-hammock and stop by a beach by the side of the road just to stare at the sea and the sky.

On the morning before I had to catch the 10:00 am ferry to Surigao City, I found myself waking up early and driving all the way to Magpupungko Tidal Pools for no reason.

The gravel roads I remembered littered with “warning Stock File ahead signs” have made way to full pavement. What used to be a dirt road where I rode a semi-automatic bike with barely any experience have become smooth and easy to ride on a scooter. I didn’t even have GPS the first time I rode here. All I had was an actual map. But thankfully, only the road quality seems to have changed. The other towns remain as blissfully laid-back and provincial as I remember. Peaceful roads lined with coconut trees and green fields and mountains in the distance.

The way to Magpupungko has a wide parking area now with lots and lots of cottages and beach huts. But the place is empty because it’s too early in the morning for tourists. It took me less than an hour to drive there.

This is my second attempt to visit Magpupungko and the tidal conditions are wrong again. It was high tide in the morning because of the moon. A vendor at one of the open stalls says the best time to view the lagoon will be about noontime or early afternoon. Too late for me, as I have a ferry to catch.

There was a time when I’d be disappointed of going out of my way to visit a tourist spot and not getting to see it or take photos of it in the best condition. Or when I’d rush and try to visit every possible spot I passed. But it’s all good. I really don’t mind. I wasn’t really there to see the tidal pool, to be honest.

Lately, I’ve learned to just chill the heck out, enjoy wherever I am, and accept factors I can’t control (like the weather) when I travel. Ok, so I missed seeing the pool in its full glory. I actually just wanted an excuse to ride somewhere and distance-wise, Magpupungko seemed like a good destination as any in the time I had.

The community surrounding the mangrove forests on the way there was exactly as I had remembered. Houses on stilts line the road and a group of kids were jumping off the bridge into the river below.

Just when I was starting to feel like Siargao was too crowded, I realized that I was part of the problem. I am part of the crowd flocking to General Luna, trying to eat in the same restaurants, trying to do all the same activities because those are the requisite things to do. Who’s to say what the best “Things to Do in Siargao” or any destination for that matter is? Bloggers and travel writers like me? Don’t listen to us. Just because it’s the most popular activity doesn’t automatically make it THE only thing you can do there. Just like playing video games, it’s always more satisfying figuring out things for yourself instead of following a detailed step-by-step walkthrough.

I could always stay in another town next time that I know nothing about. There are a lot of towns around the island that rarely get visited. Siargao is not just General Luna. Like Aklan is not just Boracay. Each destination, no matter how popular it is still has those quiet towns and spots, where you can find peace and serenity. Places where you can enjoy those magical travel firsts. Those unexpected moments that makes a place special and unique. When you have throw out the expectations, you can make travel uniquely your own. There are quiet spots just waiting to be discovered. You just have to seek them out.

TO BE CONTINUED: Dinagat Islands