The sun was just rising as we touched down in Siargao, warm light stretching over coconut-lined roads and the sea. Our journey had started in Manila, with a seamless flight via Sunlight Air. After a quick layover in Cebu—where passengers disembarked and new ones came aboard, while we remained comfortably seated—the plane continued straight to Siargao. In under half a day, we were worlds away from the bustle, greeted instead by the kind of air and silence you only get in places unbothered by time.

It’s my second time here. The first was in November 2022, not long after Typhoon Odette ripped through Siargao on Dec. 16, 2021, leaving heartbreak in its wake. Back then, Cloud 9, arguably the island’s most iconic surf spot, was still in pieces. Some roads were scarred, buildings broken. But even amid reconstruction, the island’s spirit was undeniable. People built by day, danced by night. Siargao was already writing its next chapter.

We rented motorbikes that first time and followed the coast. The roads were good—surprisingly good. They took us through quiet villages, across small rolling hills, and to the island’s other edges, where lakes shimmered behind cliffs that could rival Palawan. It wasn’t the picture-perfect kind of beauty. It was something else—raw, real, and strangely moving.

This latest trip showed just how far it’s come. We stayed at Katig Beachfront Boutique Hotel, a sun-drenched oasis built like a beach house for friends. Co-founded by Kim Honasan, Charles Tiu, Marco and Joey Viray, Jerry Garcia, and Carmelo Aribon, Katig blends comfort and character. With only 11 rooms, a cozy bar serving cocktails by Spirit Library, and a loft library stocked with offbeat travel books and rare finds, it feels less like a hotel and more like someone let you in on a secret. From the moment we arrived, shoes were off, drinks were poured, and the sea was just a few barefoot steps away.

Next door, we had meals at Kanin Baboy, a no-frills food stop known for its spicy lechon belly and other Filipino favorites like lechon sisig, sticky ribs, and kalabasamonggo. Siargao’s food scene continues to impress—from casual to elevated, island eats are now a full-blown adventure.

Alma Siargao, tucked away by the water, serves Spanish-Mediterranean fare that feels like it belongs in Barcelona, yet couldn’t be more at home here. Its gambas, black squid ink paella, and classic profiteroles come with a side of sea breeze and soft conversation. Chef Luis Martinez curates the menu with ingredients sourced locally, blending elegance with island ease.

As always, we did everything—except surf. That’s still on the list. But island-hopping was non-negotiable. We took the classic Tri-Island Tour to Guyam, Daku, and Naked Island, wading into clear shallows, digging our toes into the sun-baked sand, and grazing on kinilaw and grilled pork prepared with flair by a local food wizard named Chef Choipao on Guyam.

We strolled the now-reopened Cloud 9 Boardwalk, reimagined and rebuilt stronger after Odette, its structure once again welcoming early risers and sunset chasers alike. Then there’s Catangnan Bridge, now better known as Afam Bridge, where locals and tourists gather over isaw, grilled corn, and halo-halo. The sunset didn’t show up that day, but the bridge buzzed anyway, golden hour not needed when the vibe is this alive.

Siargao’s nights are just as vivid as its days. At Bed & Brewery, the island’s first hostel and microbrewery, we found ourselves in the thick of a Thursday night party—local DJs spinning, travelers mingling, craft beers flowing. It felt raw and electric. Loka, the iconic beachfront bar near Cloud 9, was just as packed, its sandy floors and glowing cocktails once again center stage. Once destroyed by the typhoon, it’s now back and thriving, having recently launched a merch collab with local surf brand Gwapitos. The energy was infectious. The kind you can’t plan, only stumble into.

We also stopped by Siago Beach Resort, a chic Tulum-inspired stay with tropical minimalism and Filipino touches. While we didn’t stay there, it’s worth noting for future visits—its laid-back design and beachfront charm make it one of the island’s standout spots.

But what makes Siargao stick with you isn’t just its beaches or bars, its food or the warm welcome of the locals. It’s the feeling. The strange sense that you’re meant to be here. Maybe it’s the friendliness of strangers who become fast friends. Maybe it’s the dogs who join your morning walk like you’ve known each other forever. Maybe it’s the music that drifts from open windows at sunset.

Ask the growing community of foreigners who now call the island home. Or the ones who keep returning, pulled back again and again by something they can’t quite name.

We did everything—swam, wandered, partied, feasted, watched the skies change color, mingled with locals and travelers alike. Everything but surfing. But that’s the beauty of it. It gives us one more reason to return.

And believe me, we will. Siargao isn’t just a destination—it’s a feeling you carry long after you’ve left.