Join our inner circle to get the latest in travel, beauty, style & more !

We respect your privacy. Unsubscribe anytime.

Beach

Why Siargao Is The Philippine Island You'll Never Want To Leave

Nobody – and I do mean nobody – can quite put their finger on what’s so special about Siargao, a teardrop shaped island in the east of the Philippines

A sandy salty sunkissed girl on a moped, a flower in her hair, balancing at once a surfboard and a dog across her lap. Tumultuous rainstorms that threaten to deluge for days but break open moments later with the gift of another blue afternoon. And tucked away among luscious green ferns and welcome smiles, a resort with no rules. There’s something magical about Siargao.



“The surfers bring a very cool vibe, but there are other surf resorts which don’t feel quite like this,” says Vince Lampert, general manager of Nay Palad Hideaway, an enchanting retreat between the ocean and the mangroves. “We call it magic. If you only come once, it’s because you haven’t left.” He came 25 years ago, on a summer internship for Dedon, known for its luxurious, hand-crafted outdoor furniture, and is still here. “Back then there was no road and no airport,” he continues. “I’ve seen the evolution over 25 years, and it’s developing in the right way. We have noise and height restrictions. No chains coming here.”

Nay Palad's restaurant-lounge

So special is this spot that despite logistical challenges, Dedon opened their showroom here, later adding two guest rooms to house potential buyers. And that morphed into the hotel – a hotel with a difference. “My brother and I and our partner Bobby travelled hundreds of days a year with Dedon,” says Vince. “And so we were able to come up with a list of things we hated about hotels. Check in, check out, restrictive eating times. So we created a resort where we ripped up the rule book.” From the smiling staff who welcome you home, and who can organise a massage, surf lesson or afternoon on a shimmering private island with a sizzling bbq cooked by a private chef, all at the blink of an eye (and for no extra cost) to the help-yourself poolside bar and the dine when and where – and on what you want – concept. It’s perfect. 

Dedon’s signature weaving – the incredible craftsmanship that sets neighbouring Cebu apart from the rest of the world – is in evidence everywhere, from the sunshelter on the terrace of my villa, to the hanging nest chairs that cocoon you on the beach and the beautifully wrought front gates. Nay Palad means mother’s palm and cocooned here as I am, I can quite imagine not leaving. 

Nay Palad Hideaway

But things haven’t always been quite so idyllic. You can’t write about Siargao without mentioning the typhoon. On 16th December 2021, a category five typhoon named Odette ripped through the island at 195 kilometres per hour, upending trees like matchsticks and tearing the roofs and walls from houses. It was followed by a huge storm surge. It brought total devastation. “If that kind of thing happened in Europe we would still be crying, but the Filipino culture is different. I’m still surprised by how fast it happened,” says Vince. “It was all gone in five hours, but people came together and started rebuilding in five minutes. We would have given up and sold the land but the community wanted us to rebuild and we felt a responsibility to them to bring their livelihoods back. The weavers and craftspeople were some of the first people to answer our call.” 

Elaine Abonal, founder of Surfista Siargao

The beauty of Siargao, is, in part, that the community is so strong. “People really help each other out,” says Elaine Abonal, who has been running the Surfista Travels surf school here since 2012. She first came here as a student in 2005. “It was very hard to get here, and you really had to be committed or curious about surfing to be interested in coming to an island where there was nothing else to do. But the locals were always friendly, accommodating, and hospitable. Even though I was one of the few girls in the water back then, they really supported and helped me out.” These days a mix of locals and people from all over the world live here, united by the decision to live a slower, more intentional life. “I began inventing excuses to come back – all girl surf retreats and so on – spending longer and longer here. Eventually I stopped leaving. Surfing isn’t just a sport here. It’s part of the island, just like it’s a part of me.”

My own surf lesson takes place very early one morning – not just because the waves are flattest but because I know they’ll be few other people in the water at that time. But instead of feeling silly – an uncoordinated middle-aged mum thrashing around on a surf board – other people in the water cheer when I get up. “We take the time to get to know each student,” says Elaine. “What they’re excited about, what they’re nervous about, and what they want to get out of the experience. It’s not a one-size-fits-all approach. Every person is different, and so is every wave. We also want to break the idea that surfing is only for people who are young, sporty, or super fit. Surfing is for everyone. It brings so much joy, and we’ve seen it change lives, even in just one session.”

 

Image credit: Ellie Fazan

Image credit: Ellie Fazan

Tourism Road is where locally-owned shops, cutesy cafes and really excellent restaurants spill onto the road, its name is a hint of how little happened here before surfers and backpackers began arriving 30 years ago. It follows the coast from  “downtown” General Luna area and then loops back around the Cloud Nine surfing break with intriguing narroways sneaking off down to the beach. Punctuated by retro neon signs, pastel surfboards and coconut stalls, there’s a dreamlike nostalgic quality to it – it almost feels like the Thailand of The Beach. While one palm-fringed booth offers, “piercing, henna, dreadlocks, massage” there’s a distinctly 2025 twist: ice baths (MUJO), perfectly crafted flat whites (White Beard Coffee), chilled glasses of natural wine (Roots) are all on offer, and simple linen palazzo pants and tie tops (made by Cote Femme) replace the drop-crotch fisherman pants of my youth.

Tucked back from the road and up some stairs is Golden Monstera, is a store owned by Colombian ex-pat Jennifer Jimenez and her Spanish husband Daniel, selling sculptural jewellery made from brass, for which the Philippines is well known. Designed and made by the couple in Siargao, their iconic pieces include an eternal wave ring evoking the surfing that the island is famous for. “For most people it’s the ocean that brings them here,” says Jenn, who has lived here for nine years. “But that wasn’t so for us. We spent some time in the Philippines and then on to Thailand and Australia. When we got to Australia I said to my husband, ‘Come on, let’s go back to the Philippines.’ There’s something special about the people here.”

At first they started making jewellery for their friends and neighbours to get by. “There’s such a strong community connection here. Someone said, you should have a shop. Then you need photography. Then you need a website. The community made it happen for me,” she says. “The beautiful thing about Siargao is that here you can be anyone you want to be. I wanted to be a jewellery designer, and I am. It doesn’t matter if you are Filipino or foreign, rich or poor. Everyone is starting from scratch.” But what is it that makes the town so special? She pauses before replying: “I heard some one describe it recently as black magic. Because it gives you a lot but it also takes away.” What does it take? She lowers her tone, “Well, you can never leave.”

 

Ellie's son, Sid, at Cev restaurant, with the resident cat. Image credit: Ellie Fazan

Ellie’s son, Sid, at Cev restaurant, with the resident cat. Image credit: Ellie Fazan

During a sudden downpour I take shelter in Cev, a ceviche restaurant that leans into the retro vibe of the town. Here, Cher’s The Shoop Shoop Song blasts “is it in his kiss?” from the stereo as we sip on smokey margaritas and dine on stunningly beautiful plates of food, made from easy to get local ingredients, almost too good looking to eat. Owner David del Rossario is a Manila transplant, lured here by the waves and the opportunity to do something different. “In other parts of the Philippines people are just opening businesses because they see an opportunity to make money,” he says, “But people are here because they love to surf, and everyone connects around that thing. In the surf at Siargao you see the owner of this resort or that restaurant and all the locals together. No matter who you are, the surf makes you equal because you all love it and you are all in awe of it. So as a community we are not in competition, we are all friends. It’s all just love and respect.”

His food is a celebration of simple local ingredients: sweet potato, onions, aubergine, fish. Transformed into stunning jewel-like plates of food. Crunchy, tangy, salty, sweet and spicy. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it. “Kinilaw is a uniquely Filippino dish: raw fish cured in coconut vinegar. In my opinion it’s the best dish in the Philippines but it’s not known about like adobe or lechon,” he explains. The food here is so plentiful that even the resident cat gets a big bowlful for lunch.

That evening I stumbled upon Isla Pancitaria, on the loop of the road that’s only just been tarmacked, where we eat with sand between our toes and Filipino pop on the radio. Pancit (fried noodles) is a famous Filipino party food, and each region has its own version of the dish. Like everything in Siargao they are taken to the next level – while we talk, Filipino owner Lucien Hoffpauir is hand making egg noodles in the kitchen. “I gave up a corporate job to do this,” he smiles. “I came once and I just couldn’t stay away. It has everything you need, from the party, to the food, to the community – all underpinned by a really healthy active lifestyle.”

 

Isla Pancitaria. Image credit: Ellie Fazan

Isla Pancitaria. Image credit: Ellie Fazan

Isla Pancitaria has been open for just two weeks when I visit, but even in the quiet part of town and with no marketing, they have been full every night. “The community is just so amazing here – everyone wants you to succeed and all our friends have been spreading the word for us,” says Lucien. So is it the community that makes Siargao so special? He leans back in his chair and his face breaks into a huge smile. He has the answer, I think. “Do you know what,” he pauses. “I don’t know. The beaches aren’t that great compared to other parts of the Philippines, and it rains a lot, and it’s really hard to get to. It must be a curse – because once you get bitten by the bug you can’t leave.”

Someone else in the restaurant stops slurping noodles to chime in. “I have friends who came here in the 1980s and never left,” he says. “So there must have been a bug here, even then. They built a house next to where Nay Palad is now.”

Back at Nay Palad, two French children come to show my baby son a handful of frogs they have collected in a box. They’ve been staying here for two weeks and know every nook and cranny of the resort, greeting guests on arrival and showing baby Sid the trampoline hidden inside a woven egg-shaped garden pavilion and the multilayer treehouse lounge. I’m musing on what a charming, playful wonderland it is – one where anything seems possible – when the chef pops his head out from the kitchen to show me three rainbow lobsters just delivered by the local fisherman. 

 

Siargao Island, the Philippines

Siargao Island, the Philippines

Vince is clear that his ownership of the hotel comes with responsibilities to the local area. “We are here not because we want to make money but because we want to give back to the community,” he says. Partly this is to do with looking after the environment – restoring the coral reefs and conserving the mangroves – and partly to do with supporting the community and training the next generation of hospitality staff. “We’re working closely with the surfers, with the drivers, with local tourist guides and local farmers. The community is very close to us and we embrace it, including working with local schools. The community is who we are and it’s perhaps what makes this resort and this island so special.”

Back in town, Cev’s resident cat licks its lips. The rain stops. Elaine tucks a surfboard under her arm. “It’s home. And the longer I’ve stayed, the more I’ve realised it’s not just about chasing waves anymore. It’s about sharing this life with others, teaching, creating, and giving back to the island that gave me so much,” she says.

The whole damn place is just so enchanting.


We may earn a commission if you buy something from any affiliate links on our site.

What to Pack

You May Also Like

Any Questions or Tips to add?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share
What to Pack?