Could this mind-blowingly stunning tropical paradise, a nature sanctuary for the world with over 1,700 islands, cliché beach paradise scenes at every turn, and a warm, welcoming people be the most beautiful place on earth? Quite simply, yes. A raw, untamed paradise for nature lovers, diving lovers, sailors, sun-seekers, thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies, Palawan has something for every intrepid traveller. We travelled there in February, and spent an incredible 2 weeks exploring this awe-inspiring place. Read on to find out what we got up to, and what we recommend (and don’t recommend!). 2 weeks only allows you to scratch the surface of course – but all the more reason to come back!
Day 1 - Puerto Princesa
Palawan has become very popular of late. As two Chinese tourists started pushing each other in the chests and hurling expletives as each other as their young concubines watched on laughing in the baggage collection point at Puerto Princesa airport after a short flight from Manila, I thought that people are, literally, fighting to get to this unspoiled paradise in one of the most beautiful countries on earth, the Philippines.
Veronica and I picked up our baggage (we’d had to collect it at Manila airport after our flight to Hong Kong, take it off the belt for someone to write on the tag with a pen, and put it back on the same belt again in a farcical attempt at organization), then got our local Sims (we went with the prominent Globe brand).
Walking out of the airport, we almost walked straight into our first scam – a trishaw taxi driver wanted to charge us P300 to the Blue Lagoon Inn, which he claimed was 20 minutes away as this was “new airport”. Blue Lagoon themelves on their website claim it takes 10 minutes, so I was a bit dubious. As it happened, it took 9 minutes. We were lucky to see a guy carrying a Blue Lagoon Inn sign – he was there to pick up a family who had been on the same flight as us. He said he’d take us for P25 each – a bargain. We hopped in the van with the family, and headed off down the dark streets punctuated with the odd red and white circle of a San Miguel lighted sign, which made us thirsty for that first beer.
We checked into the Blue Lagoon Inn, and were given a refreshing strawberry juice, then shown to room 12. Room 12 was not by the pool. It was tucked away behind the small car park – clearly reserved for those guests like us, the short-term stayers; the one-nighters. Basic, barren, and the mosquito grill in the bathroom over the window had been prised open at the bottom, a few of the annoying little buggers were already buzzing around in anticipation of their feast that night. The room didn’t matter. It was cheap, and we only needed it as a springboard to our next destination. The rest of the hotel, however, was quite lovingly-appointed. Clean-looking bungalows set around a pretty pool, which had underwater lights that were glowing a soothing blue, before flashing various colours as though the climax to a trance song was coming up in a nightclub.
We headed off down the dirt track to the main avenue – Rizal Avenue. Trishaws trundled up and down this, the main thoroughfare of Puerto Princesa. We walked past several attractive, rustic-looking establishments, the kind that provide simple, easy-going, laid-back ambience that is so attractive in this part of the world. We ventured into a new food and arts area called Mango Farm, tastefully done wooden stalls selling artisanal goods, set around some beautiful willow trees. Some local families were here enjoying the new space, sampling a local barbecue. We didn’t linger long, however. Parched, we went back to Rizal avenue and came to a lovely, bright space with blonde wood furniture and a live band called La Terrasse Cafe. The rest of the foreigners in PP had evidently done the same thing – it was packed with ruddy white faces, old and young, tables full of barbecued food, vegetables, rice, and San Miguel.
“Get me a pale. Please.” I rasped at the waiter, absolutely parched. When it arrived I downed it in one. We ordered a feast. Kangkong in coconut milk, pork satay, fish in coconut milk for Vero, deep fried tuna belly for me, washed down with loads of water and san Miguel. We spoke of our love for South East Asia, our heads and hearts full of the wonderful memories we both have shared from this part of the world. We went to bed content.
Day 2 - Puerto Princesa to Sabang
The famous subterranean river. One of the most incredible experiences in this part of the world. We were going to canoe down it. But that was later in the day. It was now 6am. We had a light breakfast of egg, toast, and ham slices that tasted like a sponge that had been left in a pan to soak up the oil overnight and put in the fridge for 20 minutes before being served.
We shared our van with three other young couples. We had booked it through a tour agency booked through the Blue Lagoon the night before.
We picked up our bubbly tour guide as we entered the vicinity of Sabang. She immediately gave us the good news – there were soooooo many tourists now, we would need to wait at least two hours once we got there, but we could do ‘forest walk and zipline’ or ‘mangrove tour’ for around 300 pesos each. Or just sit and wait. She gave us some time to think about it. We had a toilet break at a scenic spot (5 pesos each for the toilet), then got back in the van. Now we were given the hard sell. “Who is coming on the tour. Hands up?” She demanded. Surely there are more subtle ways of organizing these things. Anyway, we were told we couldn’t drop our luggage at DabDab Tourist Inn first (a hotel we had booked in Sabang), as we had planned to, so we decided to do the Mangrove tour. It was a good choice in the end. We enjoyed the gentle boat ride through the mangroves, the old guide really doing his best to explain things to us. He seemed to have a genuine love for mangroves and his job, and towards the end he sang a quite beautiful song, creating rhythm with his hands and feet and mimicking the sounds of blowing through a conch.
Of course, this lovely experience paled into insignificance as we were driven to the jetty to board ‘boat 40’ and sail across the choppy waters to the gorgeous beach framed with limestone karsts, beyond which is found the famous subterranean river. It was fairly well-organised, if a little ‘loose’ and chaotic, this being the Philippines after all. We picked up a helmet, and were given an audio guide device, before being herded onto canoes, which held around 8 people, with the paddler at the back. We headed down the turquoise-coloured lagoon and into the mouth of the cave. The audio guide explained the various sights we would see along the way, as we channeled deep into the caves. The caverns were immense, the water 9 metres deep in places. Stalagmites and stalactites formed the geography of the cave. Thousands of bats hung sleeping. We were advised not to open our mouths else we might get bat droppings missiling in.
Some of the rock formatations were incredible – hauntingly beautiful; formed over millennia and resembling all kinds of weird shapes the way clouds do – to some a Jesus, to others a prophet.
The ‘cathedral’ was the most impressive chasm, the formations of the Apostles, the Virgin Mary, Jesus – almost as though sculpted by the hands of God himself.
Throughout the tour, despite all tourists being advised to stay slient, our guide humoured us (and himself it must be told) with his dry humour and observations. “Don’t worry sir mam, no crocodiles in here….only the government” “Are you happy? I am not happy. You are too heavy. I am so tired” “This rock here looks like sexy woman. You see her ass? Oh….I can see she’s getting old now” (as his shadow stroked the drooping shape of an ass on the rocks). The audio guide kept insisting that the tour should be conducted in silence, but, like a rebellious teenager (which he was), the young man insisted on speaking over the audio guide, pointing things out himself, making his jokes, completely breaking the oath of silence. He was quite hilarious!
We emerged from the caves some 30 minutes later. An incredible experience – truly a wonder of the natural world. I wanted to explore more, and was told that it was possible to do a 4.5km tour through the depths – a trip that took some 8 hours. Next time, then.
Back on the mainland of Sabang we dragged our luggage a short distance to Dabdab Tourist Inn, a gem of a place situated right next to the sea, in a well-kept garden. The bungalows were pretty, with nice terraces that invited afternoon snoozes. As the woman with a kindly village face was showing us the room, a wild boar emerged from under the reception / restaurant, and started hurtling towards us. “Don’t worry about him, he thinks he’s a dog” laughed the woman, before shouting at him. Scared, he turned and bolted away back under the restaurant. The woman warned us not to feed it, as it wouldn’t hesitate in jumping up onto the terrace, and ‘gnawing’ you in a ‘playful’ way.
It was pretty, the place. Cocks strutted around, silent now, but perhaps charging their voices in the sun to bray full pelt come 4am.
We had a couple of warm beers I had bought from the village stall, and fell asleep until 4pm.
Later, we booked, through Dabdab, onward journey to Port Barton for P600 a piece. Then we strolled down to one of two resorts here – the posh Sheridan. Boasting a long pool, luxurious loungers, and a stunning mountain backdrop, it was a perfect place for us to grab a couple of towels (“room 179” I said to the towel guy – I’d made a note of room numbers as I walked past the pool). We enjoyed a swim in the luxurious surrounds. It was the best place to while away an afternoon.
After this, refreshed, we had a wonderful massage in a little wooden hut around the corner of the Sheridan. Then we went back to the Sheridan for dinner. Not the P1,600 a head Chinese New Year celebration dinner on the beach front lawn, but a more relaxed affair on the decking away from the hysteria. We had fettucine Bolognese and a pizza. On the stage to our right, the many Chinese guests were being treated to Dragon Dances, Lion Dances, live performances, and a sumptuous buffet. We still felt part of it, we were close enough to hear and see everything, but far enough away to be able to talk. And it was a lot cheaper.
We retired to the hotel after this, picking our way along the dirt track in the darkness, pausing occasionally to gaze up at a night sky full of shining stars. It had been a truly fantastic day.
Day 3 - Port Barton and Cacnipa Island
Cacnipa Island is where those in the know go to escape the dusty streets and new glut of soulless travellers lodges that suddenly hip, overcrowded Port Barton has built to accommodate daily numbers of mainly young European (especially Spanish) travellers who have descended on the once-peaceful village in droves, buying up land and quickly gentrifying parcels of the village so that the intrepid explorers don’t go without their croque monsieurs, skinny soy lattes, and wifi to spend their days updating Instagram and Facebook accounts. As Veronica and I sat on this tranquil little island at night, listening to the sound of the ocean, gazing up at a galaxy of stars and dreaming of nothing but where we currently were….we knew we’d made the right choice to get straight out of Porto Barton as soon as we’d arrived.
That morning we were having breakfast in Sabang watching the pet wild boar chasing itself around like a lunatic. We sat enjoying the simple affair: a pot of ‘tea lipton’ – the classic traveller’s breakfast tea – three slices of toast, jam, butter. It was all we could have wanted. The little kid of the owner, Philip, walked us from here to the van area, and we were also accompanied part of the way by the wild boar. We met a stereotypically tall Dutch couple. Nice. Friendly. Bloody tall. How do they get so big, the Dutch? We all hopped into the van to Port Barton, in time for the eight thirty set off, except we didn’t actually get out of Sabang until nine thirtyish, as we encountered the typical delays; people not turning up, others sleeping in so missing the bus, some arranging to be picked up on the side of the road en route out of Sabang, doubling back to pick up a late-comer (a Filipina –it’s always the locals that are late, I’ve noticed!). The driver went hell for leather after that, and somehow made the transfer van time (vans don’t go all the way from Sabang, there is a transfer point at some roadside shack where people are directed to different minivans bound for El Nido, Port Barton, and Puerto Princesa). This was despite a further delay to let a procession of Elementary school kids past who were all wearing beautiful costumes to celebrate a festival I never learnt the name or meaning of.
The second van was nicer, the driver slightly more sane, not reeking of Red Horse, and he drove slightly slower. He also seemed to be the postman, stopping at various places to deliver various things. A kind of Postman Pat for the Sabang-Port Barton route. We arrived in Port Barton after an uneventful couple of hours. It was eleven thirty, so we had arrived ahead of schedule. We registered at a desk set up outside, paid forty pesos between us, and then we took a trike for forty pesos to ‘coastguard’ – to the place where we would take the ferry to our resort on Cacnipa Island, Coconut Garden Island Resort. The boat left at 1pm, so we had time to see the pretty beach, framed by hills and mountains, and full of bobbing bangka. We had a mediocre lunch, then hopped on the boat for the forty five minute ride to the island.
The island is beautiful. A tastefully designed resort, integrated with nature, loads of coconut trees, hammocks strung between them, and a small beach. We hopped off the boat and checked into our private bungalow, number sixteen. We spent the afternoon relaxing on the beautiful beach, drinking rum and coke, and chilling some more.
Day became night. We had ordered our evening meal before three pm, as is the rule of the house, and we were in the restaurant at six. I knocked back a Red Horse, and ate delicious shrimp with garlic and curry sauce linguini, while Vero had a tender pork steak. Another Red Horse, then the beach for the star show, and finally back to our bungalow. We were already in love with Cacnipa Island.
Day 4 - Cacnipa Island
The first night on Cacnipa Island was spent in a largely sleepless state – we didn’t want to turn off the bright lights for fear of attracting creatures of the night (the embarrassing city folk we are) – and the solar powered fan was making us shiver. The alcohol and water we’d drunk in the restaurant and on the beach caused toilet breaks at one thirty am, five thirty am and seven thirty am. The night was full of life, full of strange sounds. For us city folk living in Hong Kong, it was hard to adjust too.
The muscles in the mid-left of my back had also decided now would be a good time to start spasming. I was in agony. An ibuprofen did very little to alleviate the suffering. Vero had stomach cramps. And so we made a right pair at breakfast, and we very nearly called off the whole day of island hopping we’d planned.
We sat in the restaurant thinking of what to do. A fishing boat arrived with the catches of the day, that we would be eating that night – as fresh as that. We decided to take a chance and go on our tour. We were getting ready to leave on the boat when a Latvian guy asked if he and his girlfriend could join us. It sounded good to us – we were going to be the only people on the boat, and new company, new energies, new stories, is always welcome company. It also worked out cheaper. And so the four of us headed off across an ocean as transparent as glass. We hit a lovely snorkeling spot first – which would have been wonderful had we not had to deal with crap masks and snorkels as usual. We’ll bring our own one day. The Latvian, of course, had his own mask and fins. And his own hammock, which he’d already strung up in a prime spot between two coconut trees back on the island. An ‘action’ man, he worked as a pilot for Ryanair, but his real love was taking people on tours – hiking tours and river tours of his beloved Latvia. He asked no questions, only talked, like most people we ever meet. And so we listened. We learned. Tomas free dives, he used to fly helicopters (I had guessed a military background), he had once seen a bear whilst salmon fishing in Latvia, he has a five day on, four day off work regime, his home is three point five hours from his Ryanair ‘base’, he was on a month-long break right now, as he’d put ‘off’ schedules together….he also had no money with him, and se we needed to lend him P1000 for lunch. About his girlfriend, we knew nothing. She spoke not a word the whole day, just smiled and giggled shyly. Tomas also had a GoPro ‘black’ – the newest and most expensive Go Pro, apparently. He claimed Latvia is the cheapest place to buy electronics. He buys everything from Amazon. Yes, we learned a lot from listening to Tomas. He learned nothing about us. Tomas also had a skill shared by most alpha males, of turning any opposition move into a counter attack, as he did when I brought up my time in Rwanda, and he quickly cut in that he had been offered work there, turning the conversation deftly in his favor, giving him the advantage, turning the focus back to himself, reducing the ‘opponent’ to the role of interlocutor. Despite all this, he was a pleasant enough chap, and at least I learned something about somebody from a place I’d never been to.
The islands we saw and visited were stunning. Absolute picture postcards of what you might imagine paradise to be. Like the Maldives, or San Blas, but more beautiful. Yes, Palawan is the most beautiful place on earth, I’m sure of that.
We had had a good day, and returned full of sun, sea and sand to Coconut Garden. I sat in the same wicker chair at the same table in the restaurant, at the same time as the day before, and saw the same routines take place. The Swiss owner of the place turned on the TV at the same time as the power came on (power comes on from six pm to six am), San Miguel pale in hand, watched the news, turned it off fifteen mins later, and retreated to the kitchen after a swift retort of “look at this floor, sweep it”, and “Am I the only one who can see this?” (pointing to the tea / coffee area which had run out of cups), not to be seen again till the next day, at the same time, with the same beer, watching the same news channel.
Tonight we enjoyed two red snappers – one sweet and sour style, the other coconut milk and garlic style, and talked a bit more with Tomas and his silent girlfriend. Tomas shared with us more about his life in Latvia, showed us photos of him off-road driving through snowy winter wonderland forests in his Land Rover….he talked of his business idea – he’s found a favourable spot on the river and is building a tour centre, and his future house close by. He’s run team-building activities, led scenic hikes, kayaking trips (he’s also bought a couple of kayaks ). He’s switched on, Tomas. He’s got a business plan that will sustain him beyond his career as a Ryanair pilot. “This is my view of the night sky”, he boasted, showing us a photo he took from the cockpit, as we told him of how beautiful it had been to sit on the beach the night before in darkness and watch a million stars. His girlfriend had her own beauty / nail salon business. That was all we ever knew about her. She still hadn’t spoken a word.
After some gentle prodding, Tomas eventually gave me the P1000 he owed me. His girlfriend seemed very embarrassed. Then we headed to the beach for our starry show once again, a magical end to a magical day.
Day 4 - Port Barton
We were bound for Port Barton. Back to the mainland, after a wonderful 2-night stay on Cacnipa Island – a highly recommended jaunt considering the dusty madness of the nearest spit of mainland. We had a delicious breakfast, I settled the bill in cash, we took the 11am boat to the place of flashpacking paradise.
When we arrived I felt glad we’d stayed on an island. Port Barton, beautiful though the beach is, was crowded, full of sun-kissed Spaniards and boat tour sellers. Beyond the beach it was a dusty nightmare, construction everywhere as the locals – and tourists / investors, try desperately to build something – a guesthouse, a restaurant – to cash in on the tourism boom.
Some, like Nellie, had been doing this for years. Nellie’s Tourist Inn, offers two rooms with a shared kitchen and bathroom, and a living room with an extra bed. It has the feel of somebody’s house because it is exactly that. Nellie has been renting rooms of her home for years. It’s 5-stars on all the websites. I suppose because it offers the backpackers the illusion of staying like a local – and because it’s particularly cheap, so a bargain for the experience you get. A lovely, caring, sweet old lady, Nellie has a heart of gold. We left our bags as she hadn’t cleaned the room yet, and we headed out into the dusty streets and down to the beach to a restaurant which offered wifi and charging sockets – a novelty in Port Barton. Smartphone zombies were already there as we walked into the expansive, tastefully furnished place, staring blankly at the rectangular illuminated hypnotising anti-social lures, oblivious to the paradise around them.
We ordered food, a san miguel apiece, and shamefully joined the virtual world too. One chap opposite us had a funny ipad with a foldable keyboard, and he was busy working. Not a bad place for remote work, though the internet is a bit patchy. The modern traveller- the flashpacker – is very evident here, they were sat all around with their iPads, Macbooks, the latest phones and drones and gadgets….and still moaning about the price of a cocktail.
Later we headed for a walk to White Beach, taking a shortcut through mangroves and snake-infested grasslands. We headed along a stony dirt track, skirting the coastline, before arriving at the beginning of a beautiful cove, known as Palm Beach. We needed to pay 40 pesos each to a woman manning a wooden shack which also sold water, soft drinks and beer. A handful of travellers were chillaxing in the shade of swaying palms. The water was transparent, smooth, not deep. We went no further. We never made it to White Beach. And so we spent an hour or so relaxing in the water, soaking in the beautiful surrounds.
We walked back a scenic route, along the dusty road that is being widened. It’s a mess at the moment. The whole of Port Barton is a dusty mess, and quite possibly a health hazard. As we approached town I noticed hastily constructed wooden ‘villas’ and guesthouses, a tourist village of sorts being created on the outskirts to house the sudden influx of tourists caused by the current spike in popularity of Port Barton.
Nellie herself confirmed the extent of the problem. She’d had to turn people away, no rooms were available at all in the town. As if by way of example that night after we had come back from a good night out we saw a Spanish couple in the living room. “We had no place to stay. Nellie is so kind, she has let us stay here in the living room,” they beamed.
That night we had gone to a reggae bar with good live music, and an international crowd of all ages, races, and persuasions. Across from us was a huge American man sat, buttons on his shirt popped open (I doubted they could ever be fastened) to reveal an incredible huge, smooth, tanned boulder of a stomach. It was the finest beer belly I had ever seen. He looked 9 months pregnant. With him was a bored looking Filipina, around 20 years of age. True love. You see all sorts in the Philippines. At the next bar we saw an old German, cap and dark sunglasses on, with a young Latino boy, covered in tattoos. The two did not speak. They only drank Red Horse, silently. They were in exactly the same place when we returned for a nightcap 2 hours later. People watching is fascinating here at times.
It’s a relaxing scene, Port Barton. Nothing heavy, nothing crazy. Well. nothing too heavy or too crazy. It’s better that way.
Day 5 - Into El Nido
We’d slept well at Nellie’s. We had turned the fan in the room on at full blast. It drowned out the ‘orchestra of the crows’ that the poor Spanish couple in the living room had clearly been subjected to since 3am. We left at 7:30am, and on to the ‘bus station’ to get the 8am bus bound for El Nido, for 800 pesos each.
We’d grabbed a quick instant coffee, then we got in a packed van and headed off. The van was full of Latinos and Latinas. Spanish, an Argentinian couple who lived and worked in Majorca, a Chilean, and of course, Vero, a Venezuelan. The next 4 hours were a real opportunity for me to practise my Spanish speaking and listening, and I fared reasonably well. God, they can talk. In fact they talked themselves to sleep after 3 hours, so the last hour was enjoyed in comparative silence. The driver was slow, careful, no rush. I’d recommend Nature Island anyday.
And so we finally arrived in the promised land, though you wouldn’t think it given the road-widening construction along the way, and the dust, the glut of guesthouses, the hordes of travellers buzzing about on scooters like some Spanish holiday resort. It got worse when we took the tri-shaw into town from the bus depot….El Nido was a mess. I’m sure it had once been a pleasant town, centred around its pretty church, but the old charm was practically impossible to find now, lost forever to a glut of unsightly hostels, tour agencies, and souvenir stalls, like any other S.E Asian spot that has sold its soul to tourism – unchecked and unregulated growth. Were we in Phuket? Siem Reap? Vang Vieng? Kuta? They all end up the same.
Thank God, then, for the surrounding area. Bacuit Bay archipelago is truly the jewel in Palawan’s crown. Nevermind Palawan’s – the jewel in Philippine’s crown. OK….the jewel in South East Asia’s crown. Our hotel, Cuna, has a rooftop that offers possibly the most commanding view in the central area. We started our El Nido experience here, on the rooftop, with a lovely lunch. We had a dip in the pool, definitely a pool with a view. We then took a trike to Las Cabanas beach, a lovely stretch of sand with some low key beach bars, some swankier than others, culminating in a natural bend where the ‘famous’ Las Cabanas beach bar is situated, in a prime sunset watching spot. The views were spectacular.
As the magic hour approached, the drones came out. There were at least 4 of them buzzing around, ruining people’s photos, annoying people by buzzing just overhead, spoiling the serenity….imagine in a few years, when a drone will be de rigueur for flashpackers. They’ll be crashing into each other.
Despite the drones, it was a beautiful, magical time. Simple. No performers. No fire dancers. No musicians like on other beaches in other countries….just simple, peaceful beauty of nature to the soundtrack of a million mosquitoes (the drones), as the sun set behind the karsts to end another amazing day.
We dined in a place called Orange Pearl, a rustic beachfront place with an acoustic guitarist and good garlic rice and garlic buttered prawns. We dined well, it was a chilled, lovely place.
We finished just down the beach at Maremegmeg Beach Club – a super-chilled, beach chic hangout, with cushions perched on ample wooden steps leading up to a well-stocked bar and spacious decking. They were playing Massive Attack. They even sell the only craft beer brewed in El Nido, the unfiltered and delicious Palawan Craft beer – expensive at P200 a pop, but oh so worth it.
We took a trike back for 150 pesos, and had a little wander around the town, which seemed a bit more manageable in the evening.
Day 6 - Bacuit Bay Tour A
I fetched breakfast from El Nido Midtown Bakery – sugary bread – and then a coffee and banana bread from a lovely little pancake and waffle spot on the corner of the hotel.
Today we went on a tour of Bacuit Bay – Tour A. It’s simple in El Nido. You have 4 choices – A, B,C,D. ‘A’ promised a tour to a secret lagoon, a small lagoon kayaking spot, a snorkelling spot, lunch on a beach, and finishing up on 7 Commandos Beach. We paid P1,200 each plus P200 environment fee per person, payable once only, even if you do other tours. Good quality snorkels and masks were free. We needed to rent watershoes – P100 per pair. Well worth it, for we needed to wade 50m or so to the boat through a rocky, sea urchin minefield. There were 17 on our boat, not including the captain, chef, and guide. A traditional wooden banka boat, like a water boatsman insect. We had a fun, friendly group. English and Welsh girls, a Ukranian couple, a Colombian couple, and a really friendly Portuguese guy called Carlos – from Porto, of all places where we lived for 2 years! There was also an Australian couple. We all bonded very well. The tour was fantastic, especially once the sun came out on the lunch beach. The fish lunch was good. Vendors in canoes or on the beach were doing a roaring trade selling coconuts with rum and beer.
The highlight of the tour was the kayaking spot, where, for P200, we could kayak through a pristine lagoon, although most couples were busy posing for selfies or doing various instaposes rather than actually kayaking. Such was the beauty of the place. You could see right to the bottom – it was pure, pristine water. Like kayaking over an aquarium.
This done, we headed for the lovely 7 Commandos beach – deep golden sand, palms and vegetation furnishing the white brown karsts.
We bought a couple of rhum (as they spell it here) cokes – P50 a pop, from a little wooden shack – served in paper cups with paper straws, of course, for here they are serious about preserving the environment – the environment that sustains the tourism that sustains the locals.
We wandered down to the plush Vellago Beach Resort, 350 euros a night, if you fancy it, and then back again to the boat after a good tour. It was a perfect tour, all in all.
We returned to the picturesque Coron Coron beach, waded out, and then we headed into a couple of hotels to ask about availability, but I was unconvinced. We got a trike back to town. For dinner we stayed in the hotel, had a lovely meal on the rooftop terrace, washed down with a couple of San Miguels. The ATM’s in town had run out of cash (a very common occurance there being only a small handfull of ATMs in town), and this place was handy in that we could stick the bill on the room and pay everything by card later. A great day.
Day 7 - Nacpan Beach and Calitan Beach (Twin Beach)
A nice, lazy start. We had a breakfast of ham and cheese panini and a coconut and nutella crepe with a latte at the delicious place I had bought the banana bread from the day before.
We took the 12pm van to Nacpan beach for P600 return. It’s well-organised – you need to choose your leaving time and pickup time from a selection of available slots. The journey follows paved roads for 25 minutes or so, then veers left and goes down a stony track for a bumpy last 15-20 minutes. The van parks next to Summai beach club, where the craftly owners have a tie-in with the van company where all customers get P100 off their order. Naturally, most punters head straight to the beach club for a drink to get over the ride. We did the same – a rum and coke for me, something more extravagant served in a pineapple for Vero. Then we hit the beach.
A finer bay I have never seen. Wide, long, white….sand like powder, the water transparent. Gorgeous. To add icing on this, there is another beach, a small one, coming around a village, full of colourful bangka bobbing up and down, limestone karsts grazing the azure skies beyond. Calitan beach is a beauty. Together with Nacpan, they are known as ‘Twin beach.’
We spent time between the two, and, as the sun dropped slowly like the last droplet from a leaf after the rains, we headed to Mad Monkey hostel to enjoy ‘dynamite fingers’ (deep fried chilis stuffed with ground beef and cheese), a couple of cold San Miguel lights, and a lovely sunset surrounded by glowing, animated young souls having the time of their lives.
Back in El Nido town, we showered and changed and headed out to a wonderful Greek restaurant, Cafe Athena, overlooking the bay, and enjoyed hummus, lamb kebabs, and fish skewers, then had an early night as we were checking out the next morning.
Day 8 - Los Cabanas and Marimegmeg
We moved to Los Cabanas area of town today, to the El Nido Bayview resort. The views are indeed of the Los Cabanas bay, and they are sweeping – and you can enjoy a very scenic breakfast or a sunset here – once you’ve recovered your breath from walking up the steep steps to reach either your room, the restaurant, or the pool and garden area. There is a lot of construction though – they are building a hotel next to this one, and that is a 24 hours a day construction job. They are also doing some work on the hotel, building an infinity pool, I think. They seem to only do their construction during breakfast hours, oddly, which makes for a less than tranquil breakfast experience.
We spent the day relaxing on Marimegmeg beach and Los Cabanas beach. We had a healthy salad at The Beach Shack, Vero also got a massage. We did nothing else, which is rare for us. We had dinner at Marimegmeg Beach Club – a delicious Frankfurter with vegetables and fried potatoes for me. We relaxed, reflected on our days in this paradise so far, and looked ahead with anticipation to the tour we had booked for the next day.
Day 9 - Bacuit Bay Tour C
We again did a tour with Aquaholics. Tour C this time. We visited Helicopter Beach first. I counted 25 other tour boats at one stage, and a couple of private speed boats. The beach was packed. Palawan has been well and truly discovered. From here we went to an incredible lagoon. We swam in from the boat. The imposing, jagged, towering karsts were scraping the skies. The water was hues of greens and blues. It was beautiful.
We had lunch on the boat – a delicious buffet spread, washed down with a coconut we had bought for P80 from a guy in a kayak. He also added rhum to the coconuts for those who wanted, pouring almost half a bottle in each. Mind you, at P100 for a bottle of Tanduay, he was making a tidy profit anyway.
We met a young couple from Holland, a guy from the Virgin Islands teaching English in China, and a group of Spaniards quite possibly doing the same. This boat wasn’t quite as fun or lively as the Tour A one – this group didn’t gel as much, wasn’t as talkative.
We then rode the increasingly choppy seas to a beach completely in the shade where we were told we would spend an hour or more. We were already cold from the choppy ride, so this port of call seemed like a bad call. Vero and I waded away from the crowds (the beach was absolutely packed), and found a private spot to relax and take some snaps. I managed to call over a passing kayak vendor at one point to get 2 icy cold San Miguels to enjoy the moment with.
From here we went to the otherside of the channel of water to a snorkelling spot. The waters were transparent, but completely full of jellyfish bobbing along. A Spanish guy jumped in, writhed about in agony, and climbed back in complaining ‘mi pican mucho.’ A Ukranian couple jumped in and seemed to be enjoying it. I decided to go for it too. It was some of the clearest water I’d ever snorkelled in. I made it to a tiny beach and sat for a while, then started to make my way back. As I swam, the sunlight picked out thousands of jellyfish all around me. I swam this way and that, but realised it was impossible to avoid them. I got a couple of stings, but continued gently through to the boat. It was one of the best snorkelling experiences I’ve ever had. Worth the pain.
We headed lastly to a hidden beach in a secret lagoon – a place you needed to snorkel / swim through an opening in the rocks to access. It was incredible in there, peaceful, a little beach, a hidden treaure. The young guide spoke of other such places that the locals keep to themselves, where they go on their downtime. It’s better to keep the hordes out of certain places.
The way back was cold. It took 30-40 mins, but, all in all, the whole tour was worth it, and possibly even better than Tour A.
That evening we went to La Lupa Italian restaurant for some delicious carpaccio and pizza, then to La Plage, a wonderful open-air French restaurant on the beach, for a final drink, before getting the trike back to the hotel. What a day!
Day 10 - Marimegmeg and Los Cabanas Day 2
We spent the day on Marimegmeg and Los Cabanas beaches. Sometimes that’s all you need to do; all you should do. It can be the most of enjoyable of days when you have nothing planned, nothing to worry about, the only thing influencing your decisions being your stomach indicating it’s time to eat. The sunset was enjoyed from the elevated viewpoint of the hotel. I had a cracking headache all day from the red wine the night before. Red wine doesn’t go down as well as a bottle of icy cold San Miguel pale in the tropics. In the evening we had another memorable dinner, this time at La Plage. It’s got a great vibe, trip-hop tunes, a simple, delicious menu, and that rather important icy cold beer. We had a great time, just reviewing our trip thus far and being blown away by the photographs we had taken.
Day 11 - Cauayan Resort
Woke at 7:30. Today we were heading to a paradise within paradise. Cauayan Resort is one of the most exclusive resorts in the whole of Palawan. We took the Cauayan speedboat from El Nido pier at 9am. It was Valentine’s Day, and I’d thought it the perfect place to spend it. The boat whisked us to Bacuit Bay, past stunning, towering limestone karsts, and to the back of the resort, where we were met by a friendly member of the Cauayan team called Fau. He walked us to the reception area, past beautifully integrated dark wood villas, over a green lagoon teaming with tropical fish, through the large bar area, around the shining infinity pool, past the restaurant and on to the reception. We were given a welcome drink, then briefed by Fau on meal times and island activities. He also informed us that it was turtle nesting season, and eggs had already been laid on the beach and would probably hatch in April. The small group we had come with consisted of a young guy who I found out was a violinist who would be providing the entertainment that evening, playing his acoustic violin to backing tracks. You’d have never guessed his instrument of choice – his case had stickers of hip hop stars and he was covered in tattoos – more rock star than classical musician. He told us he’d been flown in from Manila by the resort, and that his own Valentines Day would be spent on the evening of the 15th with his girlfriend, who was also busy tonight working in the hotel industry.
Fau showed us to our beach villa. It was beautiful, spacious, with a great rain shower and a small outdoor garden at the back. There was an ample terrace out front with a huge day bed that invited lots of lots of lounging on.
“Oh…the curtains….nobody can see in during the day….but they can see in at night, so be careful”, he said with a foxy wink, for Fau was clearly a fox himself. Perhaps he was alluding to x-rated pursuits that had happened in full view of the guests previously.
Not quite believing our luck, we explored our new 5-star resort world. The resort is in a small bay ringed by verdant forest-covered karsts full of hornbills I suspected upon hearing the screeching coming from the trees that that sounded like a fan belt had gone on the car. Clinging to the bottom of the cliffs, is a wooden boardwalk. At one end sits a spa boasting massage beds with a view of the natural aquarium below; at the other end are over-water bungalows. On a level built above the boardwalk to the spa are some of the super-exclusive private villas with private plunge pools.
We had a delicious lunch. In ordered lychee and ginger juice blend, and nasi goreng, Vero a beef salad. Cooked to perfection We then lounged, as one is inclined to do on such an island. Sunset time was close, and we joined a guided walk up through steep forest to a wooden viewing platform. With us were a rich mix of international clientele – a group of young Japanese who were staying in the luxury villas (YouTube stars or pop stars, perhaps?); a middle-aged couple – the guy from the UK, the girl from Iran (I guessed he might have been a lottery winner or a jet-setter of some kind – or perhaps a travel show host – he spoke of his upcoming trips as though he were reading off the daily tasks he needed to do); a couple from Oman here for the weekend who would rather nobody spoke to them (I quickly gathered); some Spanish girls whi had just been on a tour of Singapore with a Spanish travel agency specialising in such things, and some well-heeled locals, probably on a weekend from Manila. The sunset was nothing special – certainly not befitting of the location. The view of the resort below, however, was very impressive.
We half scrambled back down, using the support provided by nature to help us -vines, roots, that kind of thing.
After this excitement and work out we chilled a little in the room before heading out for a couples massage at the spa, and then for our Valentine’s Day dinner. They had a special Valentine’s Day meal set, but it was steep at P4000 per person. We opted instead for the regular menu – croquettes de jamon and garlic prawns on sizzling hot plate as an appetizer, seafood with tomato base and mash potatoes and spring chicken as the mains, washed down with a delicious glass of French rose for me and a cosmopolitan for Vero. We were serenaded by the violin player from Manila. The service was impeccable, the ambience superb. It was a truly 5-star experience.
Day 12 - Cauayan Resort and El Nido
We sat down for breakfast. Menus were given to us. No buffet here. Individually prepared, made to order. We could order absolutely anything. At first, we were not sure. “Can I get the Cauayan Special breakfast and a muffin and banana bread?” I ventured. “Of course sir. And would you care for a fruit platter to start?” Unbelievable. They served different kinds of tea by the pot. And all kinds of coffee. What a breakfast!
We chilled out by the pool after this, strolled around, took photos. Then, all too soon, at 2:30, it was time to get the speedboat back to the mainland. What an experience. What a Valentine’s Day.
Back on the mainland we took a trike for 50 pesos to Lagun Hotel, which I had managed to book after getting a sliver of wifi earlier that day.
It was well-positioned, the Lagun, on the main highway, and a short walk or trike from the main action of town. It bills itself as El Nido’s first luxury boutique hotel. It’s certainly got the boutique touches. Hanging chairs, mismatched colourful ratten furniture…it almost looks like its trying too hard to be boutique.
The rooftop boasts an infinity pool where, with clever photography, you could capture a pool looking out onto a towering karst, but in reality it looks out over the higgeldy-piggeldy mess of half finished construction that is El Nido town, and Bacuit Bay far off in the distance. Still, it’s a commanding vista. We chilled here writing and reading and catching up on texts and social media correspondence.
We tried to make the 5:30 mass at the church in town, but arrived at 6:15, and it had finished. Instead, we did a spot of souvenir shopping. It seemed more crowded than ever. There were also a couple of old ladies begging on the streets – this seemed a new and very sad phenomenon. But I had already noticed kids who should be at school trudging up and down Los Cabanas beach hawking beads and necklaces. I had noticed the astonishing speed at which soulless hotel constructions were springing up. The speed of misdevelopment here was astonishing. El Nido seemed to be beyond bursting point. All restaurants were full – you needed to wait on tables as in a city. The streets are clogged with trikes and with foreigners careering around on scooters, adding to the stress of the infrastructure. It seems to be impossible to escape from the inevitable rise in prostitution, crime, pollution, souless capitalisation, prices, soulless air-conditioned malls and… Chinisation (or will the Koreans take over as in places like Vang Vieng in Laos?) that will come here, as it has with many other impoverished South East Asian hotspots before it, from Phuket to Bali to Sihanoukville. El Nido, then, has already sold its soul to tourism. And yes, we’re also an undeniable part of that problem, no matter how ‘sustainable’ or ‘eco’ we pretend to be.
We enjoyed a few beers, one at a Ukranian bar / restaurant, one in a treehouse-style bar, and then had dinner in Art cafe, a really cool Millenials place with all the right buzzwords to ensure it remained popular and instagrammable for the attention loving crowds. Words like ‘eco-friendly’, ‘farm to table’, ‘sustainably sourced’, ‘no plastic’, ‘bamboo straws’, ‘ethically sourced’ etc etc. Yep we millennials lap it up. I didn’t look at the breakfast menu, but I’m sure they offered powerbowls and beetroot and ginger smoothies before the morning yoga class.
After a great paella, we walked along the beach to Pukka Reggae bar, and sat outside on the beach with loads of others and had a drink. It was great. Some groups of friends had got their bottles of tamarind rum, and were getting absolutely sloshed. Other travellers were making friends “If you ever come to Montreal, you got a bed for the night” I heard one Canadian say to a small group of international friends he was drinking with on the beach. For this is what it’s all about really, making friends, connecting with new cultures, opening your arms, eyes, ears, to new things, places, experiences. This is what we travellers live for.
Day 13 - Lio Beach
A long, palm-fringed sugar-white beach, mercifully crowd and drone-free. Lazy beach restaurants and bars. Endlessly sunny days. Lio beach is an understated gem – and the perfect end to a perfect holiday in Palawan, especially when staying at the plush 5-star Seda Lio as we did. We grabbed the bus from El Nido town for the 15-20 minute trip to this wonderful slice of paradise. The hotel is beautiful, set in expansive grounds right on the beach, and with a huge swimming pool. After the ‘relaxed’ check in, we headed straight for it, ordered a couple of cocktails and just chilled. There was hardly anyone around. We practically had the place to ourselves.
Breaking ourselves free from the pool wasn’t easy, but we dragged ourselves to the beach and wandered up towards the restaurant area. It’s a remarkable place, Lio. Sustainably developed, with no beach peddlers or tricycles in sight, its 4km beach is spotless, and the view beyond to Cadlao island is stunning. There is an artisan village, you can rent bamboo bikes, the hip restaurant area offers healthy vegetarian food shacks, salad bars, pizza, seafood and BBQ joints, and live acoustic music in the evening makes for a romantic spot for all the travelling couples in El Nido (and there are many).
We strolled slowly up the beach, stopping for an ice coffee and to read and relax under some lightly swaying palms. When the magic hour came, we walked up the pier jutting out into the calm blue ocean and took some lovely snaps of the sunset. Then we found a place for a delicious dinner washed down with – what else – bottles of crisp san miguel pale – as welcome now as they had been nearly 2 weeks ago in Puerto Princesa at the beginning of this amazing trip. This was our last night in Palawan. The next day we would fly with Swift Air to Puerto Princesa and then back to Hong Kong. What a trip it had been. Sure, we could have -perhaps should have – squeezed in Coron, but we hadn’t counted on just how popular this corner of paradise had become -there were no seats by sea or by air for weeks, according to every travel agent in town. Still, we left more than satisfied. We have been to the Philippines numerous times, but Palawan has emerged as our favourite by some way. We hope you visit soon!