Mystified by Malagos' Resorts

Malagos never fails to mystify me. The mystery-shrouded watershed and its neighboring environs dazzle visitors with the sheer beauty of the serene landscapes, making you look forward to the next visit. I’ve been to Malagos more than a dozen times already but each time I go there, I get to learn something new that somehow helps demystify this sought-after haven in the outskirts of Davao. 

Home to nearly 6,000 Davaoeños, Malagos is one of the 182 villages that make up Davao City. The name Malagos is said to have been derived from the word mala-agos, which suggests continuous flow even during the dry season. This can be attributed to the presence of a vibrant watershed there that’s being maintained by the local water utility. Whenever I want to shut myself off from the rest of the world, I head for Malagos and immerse myself in any of the three sanctuaries found there: Malagos Watershed and Park, Malagos Garden Resort and the Philippine Eagle Center.

Located about 33 kilometers away from the city proper, Malagos Watershed is considered as one of the most vital sources of the city’s water supply. Way back in the 1920s, it was in Malagos where Davao’s first communal water system was established. At present, the local water utility relies on the 235-hectare Malagos Watershed to meet the water supply requirements of the southern portion of the city, particularly the Calinan area. Found within the watershed and park are a number of water facilities, including filters, a chorinating facility and a dam.

At the Malagos Park’s entrance, your attention will be drawn to a row of souvenir stores and fruit stalls where tourists can buy many of the local fruits sold there—rambutan, mangosteen, pomelo, durian—for a song! Inside, there’s a small playground and a picnic ground where you can while away time. There are a number of picnic huts where families and individuals can bask in the loving arms of Mother Nature. Some members of Davao’s indigenous communities also roam around the park to sell handmade bracelets made of natural materials. 

But there’s one more attraction there that really got my attention: the huge pythons that have been domesticated. If you’re not wary of reptiles, you can take pictures with the creatures wrapped around your shoulders. 

Near the watershed park is another sanctuary for nature-trippers: Malagos Garden Resort, which is a sprawling inland nature-themed resort replete with accommodations and function rooms, seminar halls, a restaurant and coffee shop, well-manicured gardens, a bird park and butterfly sanctuary, a swimming pool, a children’s playground, among others.   

The resort is also home to the famous Philippine orchid, Vanda Sanderiana, popularly known as waling-waling as well as indigenous birds and other wildlife species. The works of National Artist for Sculpture Napoleon Abueva adorn the gardens of the resort.   

But, wait, there’s more to Malagos than its spectacularly serene surroundings. Back at the Malagos Watershed and Park, there’s this attractive creature whose face you must have seen somewhere—magazines, newspapers, TV, the Internet. But you should see him in the flesh. Endowed with features that cause many heads to turn for a closer look, his animalistic appeal make him one of the most sought-after attractions in Davao City. 
 
Standing about a meter tall and weighing approximately 5 kilograms, he’s a sober-looking creature who sports a patrician profile highlighted by a pointed, curved beak and luminous bluish eyes. On his pate rests a headdress of light brown feathers that form a crest when raised, giving him a war god’s appearance. His dark brown dorsal feathers, thick and neatly tucked, complement a fluffy white chest. His broad wings, spanning about two meters, allow him to rise almost vertically to maneuver between trees, branches and vines.  

Gifted with a squared-off tail, powerful legs and sharp claws, he’s an excellent hunter who’s always ready for the kill. He feeds on a wide variety of forest species that include squirrels, snakes, civet cats, hornbills, and occasionally bats and monkeys. His primary prey, however, is the flying lemur. He’s none other than the mighty Sir Andy whose species called Pithecopaga jefferyi or the monkey-eating Philippine eagle I had the opportunity of meeting live in the flesh, up close and personal at that, for a spontaneous photoshoot that left me in awe.


The continued destruction of their natural habitat has significantly reduced the eagles’ population to about 500 or so birds. They’re scattered in about four out of the over 7,000 islands making up the Philippines—Luzon, Samar, Leyte and Mindanao. Their main breeding season is spread out from September through February. Laying only one egg, they rear one offspring every two years. Their life expectancy, particularly those in the wild, is anywhere between 30 to 60 years. 

At Malagos, Sir Andy and his kind have been successfully bred in captivity through the efforts of the Philippine Eagle Foundation (PEF), a private non-stock, non-profit organization which serves as the principal organization working to save the eagle and its forest environment. 

Want to catch a glimpse of the legendary creature whose advent has kept hopes ablaze for the country’s endangered wildlife? Then head straight to Malagos and be one with the best that nature can offer.   :D

  

White Island: Camiguin’s Spectacular Sandbar

If there’s something that could be considered as the crowning glory of my recent trip to Camiguin, that would be White Island, an immaculate sandbar off the coast of Mambajao. White Island enthralled me the moment my beach-hungry feet touched its powdery sands. It was absolutely chada, or beautiful in the vernacular!

From what I've heard, Camiguin’s renowned tourist attraction transforms itself into various shapes and sizes depending on the tides. Disappearing at high tide and then reappearing at low tide, the treeless, uninhabited sandbar can be reached via a 10-minute pump boat ride coming from either the shores of Yumbing or Agohay. Motorized boats can be hired from any of the beachfront resorts facing White Island. 

Together with some coworkers, I went to the sandbar before the break of dawn. Why so early? The best time to go there is actually between 5 to 8 o’ clock in the morning since the current isn’t too strong, the sun isn’t so hot and the place isn’t very crowded.

Arriving at the spot after a quick trip, I was surprised to see quite a number of tourists roaming around White Island at that hour. And believe it or not, business was also brisk in that teeny-weeny piece of land at that hour. There were several itinerant vendors peddling foodstuff as well as beads, trinkets and other souvenirs made of shells. We hadn't eaten anything before leaving the mainland so we readily helped ourselves with hefty servings of coffee, boiled eggs, rice cakes, bread and sweet potato during our breakfast by the beach.

For a few hours, we had great fun  swimming, taking pictures, laughing and talking in White Island. Then, our guide reminded us to get ready for we’d be leaving in a few minutes. Much as we wanted linger, we had to leave before the sun got too hot for us to handle. Besides, we forgot to bring sunblock so we couldn’t stay much longer lest we’d got home with sunburn.

I spent our remaining time strolling along White Island’s immaculate expanse. For a moment, I wondered why it took me so long to go to that slice of heaven on earth. Not wanting to lose to oblivion my memories of our moments there, I snapped all over the place to capture the best angles I could take of the spectacular shoal, which, on that day, took the shape of the letter C, as in Camiguin! :D

Camiguin: Killing Time at Katibawasan Falls

Deep in the lush forests of Camiguin, five kilometers southeast of its capital town, nestles an enchanting hideaway for those who want to be pampered by nature's comforting embrace. 

Right smack at the foot of Mt. Timpoong, Katibawasan Falls is one of the island province’s prime attractions that draw in hordes of tourists who either want to gaze at the spectacular cascade, take snaps of its natural allure or plunge into the refreshing waters of its pool.

Before coming to Camiguin, my colleagues and I included the falls in our itinerary of must-sees in the island. To our delight, it was on top of the list of sights that our tour organizers had arranged for us. Right after lunch, we immediately prepared ourselves for the afternoon frolic to the falls as well as the other scenic attractions of the island.

Along with other tourists gathered at Villa Paraiso Hotel, we hopped into one of the vans that shuttled us to the cascade. After a few minutes of winding through Camiguin's well-paved highway and entering its verdant woodlands, we reached the narrow dirt road that leads to the falls. At the entrance, we heard the thunderous rush of falling water, which whetted my desire to see the gushing spectacle that’s only a few meters away from where we parked.

Together with other people, I hiked into a clearing teeming with hawker stalls selling various souvenir items. Some of my colleagues got hooked with the colorful merchandise on display so they lingered there. I moved on and met the tourist spot's hairy receptionist—a little monkey tied to a tree who behaved for a snap.

Walking further, I found myself dwarfed by towering trees, lush shrubs, vines and flowering plants and then finally caught a glimpse of what we came for.

Seen from where I stood, Katibawasan Falls looked so surreal; it was such a sight to behold. I was instantly awed by its more than 70-meter slim drop that headed straight into a lagoon where several people were having a great time swimming in the ice-cold turquoise waters. To get a closer view, I followed a group of youngsters who went down through a concrete staircase that led to a viewing deck, which the local government had built to make the descent more convenient for visitors.

Staring at the falls from the viewing deck, I felt caught in a time warp; it seemed as if the minutes moved in slow motion as we kept snapping at ourselves with the cascade as backdrop. Katibawasan Falls was so spellbinding you could hardly notice the passage of time. We’ve been there for almost an hour but it felt as if it’s only seconds. What a way to kill time! :D

Camiguin: Island Born of Fire

(pic courtesy of A. Cabamungan)

For years, I've been fascinated by Camiguin, the tiny pear-shaped island off the coast of Northern Mindanao, because of the many interesting stories I’ve heard from people who’ve seen its lush, virginal beauty. It was only recently, however, that I, along with some coworkers—Aris, Rosie, Miles and Heidy—finally got to step into its inviting shores.

Said to be the country’s second smallest province, the island is populated by about 81,000 people who occupy its 238 sq. km sprawl. Camiguin’s so small that you can practically go around it in less than a day’s time, thanks to a well-paved highway connecting its five towns—Catarman, Mahinog, Guinsiliban, Sagay and Mambajao, the capital town. 
 

Getting around the island is a breeze given the presence of Camiguin's version of the tricycle, the motorela (or rela for short), which is a portmanteau for motorcycle and caritela.  There are also several multicabs and motorcycles  for hire (locally known as habal-habal) that shuttle people to their destinations.

Formed through centuries of volcanic activity and tectonic movements, Camiguin, whose most prominent geological feature are its volcanoes, is often dubbed as the "island born of fire." Pocked by about seven peaks, it’s probably the only island in the country that has more volcanoes than towns! Of the seven, however, it’s only Hibok-Hibok, which last erupted in 1951, that remains active. When it blew its top that time, the volcano caused so much irreparable damage to life, land and livelihood.

Call it bizarre but seeing the island's volcanoes, especially Hibok-Hibok, fired up my desire to go there. I even entertained the thought of scaling the peak. But it's also the same geographical peculiarity which ignited a spark of fear in me during my brief stay in the island. For a while, it gave me the creeps imagining the horror that struck the islanders when that capricious mountain went berserk.

What if touchy Hibok-Hibok had thrown a fit while we were there? Not that I was praying for a violent outburst but it’s been more than half a century since the volcano last spewed out molten rocks and wrought havoc in Camiguin. So, an eruption seemed highly possible, I supposed.

Well, I guess we have to thank the Camiguingnons for the pleasurable week we had in the island. For it must have been their unwavering faith that's kept the sleeping dragon from unleashing its fury. As the cliché goes, faith can move mountains, perhaps even calm down that most hyperactive of Camiguin's volcanoes.

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