By Kenneth M. del Rosario
There’s something about Siargao in summer that hits differently—the air hums with salt and sun, mornings feel unhurried, and even the dogs look like they’ve figured life out. You don’t have to be a surfer to fall for it. In four days, I found myself slowing down, chasing the kind of calm that doesn’t come with notifications or deadlines.
Getting there already felt like a small win. We caught the 4 AM Sunlight Air flight from Clark, which sounds brutal on paper but makes perfect sense once you land in Siargao before most people have had breakfast. By 7 AM, we were on the island, with a full day ahead and none of that rushed, half-day arrival feeling. The flight itself was smooth, straightforward, and surprisingly comfortable, with a proper meal to start things off.
A quiet kind of stay
We checked in at KATIG Beachfront Boutique Hotel, a low-key spot with just 11 rooms, six of them facing the ocean. It’s minimalist but not cold, think clean lines, local details, and small touches that actually feel thought through. Wooden boat keychains, skylights in the bathrooms, verandas that make you want to wake up early for no reason. It’s quiet, but not in a boring way. More like the kind of quiet you realize you need.
Another place that leaves an impression is Siago Beach Resort, which doubles as both a boutique stay and a restaurant worth going out of your way for. Built by Maite Ortoll and Kris Garcia, it has that lived-in feel that’s hard to fake. The menu jumps from Peruvian-style lomo saltado to Filipino comfort dishes, and somehow it all works.
Where to eat between swims
Food quickly becomes part of the routine in Siargao. Alma Siargao is one of those places you plan your day around. Chef Luis Martinez works closely with local fishermen, so whatever lands on your table is about as fresh as it gets. The menu is Spanish—paella, gambas, smoked duck breast—but nothing feels out of place on the island. The space is intimate, with warm, neutral tones and a relaxed, coastal feel, featuring a rooftop that’s best enjoyed just before sunset.
For something more casual, Kanin Baboy delivers exactly what the name promises, and does it well. No frills, no overthinking—just solid, satisfying Filipino food that hits especially hard after a long day out. It’s the kind of place you end up at without planning, and then quietly consider going back to the next day.
If you’re in the mood for something more social, LOKA Siargao near Cloud 9 leans into that beachside energy. Cocktails, small plates, and music that starts out chill and gradually picks up as the night goes on. We happened to catch a launch event during our visit, with DJs and a crowd that felt equal parts local and visiting, which is usually when Siargao feels most alive.
Watching the waves at Cloud 9
Siargao is, of course, known for surfing. Even if you don’t plan on paddling out, it’s hard not to get pulled into it. I didn’t surf on this trip, but I spent a lot of time just watching—surfers waiting it out, reading the waves, catching them at just the right moment. There’s something oddly calming about it, like everyone’s tuned into the same rhythm.
Cloud 9 is where most of that action happens, and it’s worth a visit even just to sit, watch, and take it all in. And then there are the sunsets, arguably the best part. The sky softens, the light turns warmer, and for a while, everything slows down even more.
A similar kind of pause happens at Katangnan Bridge, or “Afam Bridge,” depending on who you ask. It’s less about what you do and more about just being there. People show up before sunset, grab whatever’s being grilled nearby, and hang around until the sky fades. It’s casual, a little crowded, but easy to enjoy.
The usual route that still works
You don’t go to Siargao and skip island hopping. The usual route—Guyam, Naked, and Daku Islands—is popular for a reason. Guyam is small and postcard-ready, Naked is exactly what it sounds like, and Daku is where you actually stay awhile.
Lunch is usually laid out boodle-style, with fresh seafood and whatever else the boat crew has arranged. Daku has this laid-back, almost throwback feel. No pressure to do anything except eat, swim, and maybe nap if the breeze hits just right.
Back on the main island, it’s the in-between moments that stick. Early morning runs along long, quiet roads. Walking on the beach before it gets too hot. Random stops that turn into full meals. And yes, the dogs deserve a mention as they’re everywhere, friendly without being clingy, and somehow always part of the scene.
Going beyond General Luna
As convenient as General Luna is, heading north shifts the mood completely. The Magsaysay Sunset Viewpoint trades beachfront crowds for rolling hills and open views, with sunsets that feel a bit more low-key. Pasikon Beach in San Benito is even quieter—it’s wide, clean, and largely untouched. It’s the kind of place where you don’t feel the need to check your phone.
Further out, Sugba Lagoon in Del Carmen offers a different kind of escape. It’s all still water and mangroves, with paddleboards, kayaks, and bamboo rafts drifting around. There’s a diving board if you’re up for it, but it’s just as easy to spend an hour doing nothing.
For something more tide-dependent, the Magpupungko Rock Pools in Pilar are worth timing your day around. When the water pulls back, clear pools appear between the rocks, which is good for a swim, or just sitting there and pretending you planned your timing perfectly.
Inland, Taktak Falls offers a cooler break from the heat, with a short trip leading to a deep pool and a rope swing that people either commit to or immediately regret.
One last stop before leaving
Even the exit felt very on-brand. On the way to the airport, we made a quick stop at Gwapitos. It’s part coffee spot, part surf shop, part last-minute “wait, I should bring something home.” A quick cup, a bit of browsing, and then back on the road. It’s a small thing, but it rounds out the trip nicely.
Siargao doesn’t try too hard, and that’s probably why it works. You can plan your days, or not. You can do everything, or very little. Either way, it meets you where you are. Four days in, and it still felt like there was more to figure out—which is usually a good sign you’ll be back.
