Arrival Is a Feeling, Not Just a Flight
Touchdown in Siargao is unlike landing anywhere else in the world. The wheels of your small plane kiss the sunbaked runway of Sayak Airport, and suddenly, everything slows down. The breeze greets you before anyone else does—warm, salty, mischievous. Your lungs draw in a kind of oxygen that doesn’t exist in the city: filtered through coconut trees, tangled with sea spray, and seasoned by island laughter. You haven’t even left the airport, but something inside you has already shifted.
Because coming to Siargao isn't just a destination—it’s an awakening. It’s a remembering. It’s the moment you stop surviving and start living again.
So how do you honor your first 24 hours in a place like this?
By being fully, unapologetically present.
Hour 1–3: Let the Island Greet You
Once you’ve stepped outside the humble terminal, you’ll be welcomed by tricycles, vans, and smiling drivers who treat you like family—not fares. The journey to General Luna, the heart of Siargao’s energy, winds through lush jungles, rice paddies, and glimpses of the sea that tease your imagination.
Don’t be in a rush.
Roll down the windows. Let the air tousle your hair. Watch the light shift on the palm leaves like an oil painting in motion.
Stop at a roadside sari-sari store if you're thirsty. Grab a cold buko juice or a Coke in a glass bottle. This is your first sip of the island's rhythm.
Hour 4–6: Check-In, But Stay Checked-In with Yourself
Whether you’re staying in a dreamy surf hostel, a minimalist bungalow, or a private villa nestled among coconut groves, drop your bags—but don’t just check in to a room. Check in with yourself. Breathe. Stretch. Sit still. Open a window and listen to the wind, the birds, the hum of motorbikes and waves from afar.
Take a shower. Let the travel dust melt away and feel the island kiss your skin for the first time. Dress light. Go barefoot if you can.
This is your soft reset.
Hour 7–10: Feed Your Soul (and Stomach)
By now, your body is ready for nourishment. Head to a local eatery—maybe Kermit, Miguel’s Taqueria, or a beachfront shack with no name but the best grilled fish you’ll ever taste. Order something unfamiliar. Say yes to fresh mango, to spicy vinegar, to a bowl of tinola that tastes like it was cooked by someone's Lola.
Eat slow.
Eat like every bite matters—because here, it does.
Food isn’t just sustenance on Siargao—it’s communion.
Hour 11–15: Fall in Love With the Light
Siargao’s golden hour is pure witchcraft. Around 4 or 5 PM, grab your camera or just your bare eyes and walk. Find Cloud 9—yes, the famous boardwalk where surfers dance with waves—or explore a quieter patch of beach where fishermen mend nets in the amber glow.
Let the light touch your face. Take photos if you must, but don’t forget to feel the scene.
This is the kind of beauty that demands reverence. The kind that silences you, not out of awe, but because words would be an insult.
Hour 16–18: Dip Into Dreamwater
It doesn’t matter if you can swim or not. Wade. Float. Let the ocean welcome you the way only she can—tender but honest.
There’s a spot along Malinao Beach where the water is warm and clear, framed by swaying palms like an oil painting waiting to be entered. Or go to Secret Beach, if you’re lucky enough to find a local who’ll take you.
Let go of your fear. Let go of your plans. Let the water remind you that everything you’re trying to become is already inside you.
Hour 19–21: Dinner Under the Stars
Siargao at night is a gentle lullaby. Find a beach bar with fairy lights. Order kinilaw, barbecue skewers, or maybe a local beer or fresh calamansi juice. Talk to strangers. Talk to your travel buddy. Talk to yourself.
Ask the big questions.
Ask none at all.
And when the stars come out—and they will, bold and unapologetic—look up. Really look. Let yourself be reminded how small you are. And how magical that makes everything.
Hour 22–24: Surrender to the Silence
You don’t have to party tonight. You don’t have to surf yet. You don’t have to “do” anything at all.
Your first night in Siargao is your quiet offering to the universe.
Maybe journal. Maybe lie in bed and listen to the geckos chirping. Maybe fall asleep to the hum of a fan and the symphony of distant waves.
Let the island tuck you in.
Let it begin to rewire you.
Where the Island Begins, You Begin Again
You came here thinking it was a trip. A break. A little escape.
But Siargao is no quick fix—it’s a slow, sacred transformation.
In just 24 hours, the island teaches you how to be again. Not just busy. Not just productive. But present. Open. Alive.
And if you listen closely, you’ll hear it whispering something to your soul—something you forgot you needed to hear:
You are here. You are enough. You are home.
0 Comments