Savoring Samal Island’s Soothing Solace (Part 1)

When boredom starts to get the better of me, I usually head straight to one place that offers me soothing solace: Samal Island. Truly, this tadpole-shaped slice of paradise off the east coast of Davao City in southern Philippines has it all. 

Crystal clear waters. Scenic views of Mt. Apo, the country’s highest peak. Fresh, delectable tuna and other delights from the sea. Scuba-diving, swimming and other aqua sports. Trekking, exploring and spelunking. Island hopping. And a leisurely life by the sea. All these soothing sensations anyone can easily savor whenever they step into the island’s inviting shores. 

And Samal, according to its drumbeaters, is not only an island, it’s a garden and a city, too.  Right smack in the heart of Davao Gulf, Samal, whose full name locals and tourists shorten to IGaCoS (or Island Garden City of Samal), has long been one of Davao Region’s premier tourist come-ons. 

When I was younger, I mistook the island to be part of our city because of its proximity. Over the years, Samal, which happens to be one of the Philippines’ newly created cities, has come into its own as a thriving urban center with world-class ecotourism potentials. Currently under the political jurisdiction of Davao del Norte, Samal has 46 villages, including three which are found in nearby Talikud, a smaller island off its southwest coast. 

Anyone can get to Samal through various routes but the most accessible one involves crossing it from Davao City either at the old port in Sta. Ana or the wharf at Sasa where ferry boats take passengers there. There are also a number of ro-ro vessels that can accommodate people, buses and cars going to and from Samal. Getting around the island doesn’t pose any problem as several jeepneys and motorbikes called habal-habal can be hired to get anyone to his preferred destination.

Samal’s pristine beaches and numerous natural attractions, coupled with the warmth and hospitality of its inhabitants, have made it a buzzword among locals and foreigners looking for weekend hideaways with unspoiled natural settings as well as those hankering for amazing adventures and death-defying challenges with nature. Over 20 beach resorts—and still counting—dot  the island’s various stretches, including the world-famous Pearl Farm, Bali-Bali, Blue Waters, Camp Holiday, Bluejaz, Chemas, Costa Marina, Hof Gorei, Island Buenavista, Maxima Aquafun, Paradise Island, Punta del Sol, to name a few.  

But there’s more to Samal than these excellent treats, something a little off the beaten track that’s still largely unknown to those who flock to its beaches. Near the heart of the island lies a fairly secluded hideaway oozing with pure rustic charms: Hagimit Falls, a low-dropping cascade with natural swimming pools, huge rock formations gushing forth water and mammoth boulders that seemed to have existed for eons.  

Located about two kilometers away from the thriving village of Peñaplata, the landlocked refuge is a haven for picnickers, swimmers and nature trippers yearning for the simple, inexpensive pleasures in life. What draws the crowds to the falls, especially during weekends, is the guiltless, natural high they get from plunging into the cool waters of the kaliguanan sa lasang (pool in the woods). And this is where I often seek solace from the madness of city life, taking a dip in its cool, refreshing waters to renew my mind, body and soul. 

Hagimit may be out of the way, but anyone who goes there will eventually find his way. To reach the place, I usually take the bus from Davao City, which usually drops me at Peñaplata. From there, I hire a habal-habal and instruct the driver to take me to the resort. I know I’m near the place when I see that huge billboard on the left side of the road, welcoming me to the cascade.

To gain access, I usually pay a small token at the resort’s gate, which the city government uses for the resort’s upkeep. As I amble towards the falls, I always feel like being caught in a time warp, transported into some old growth rainforest as towering trees, lush shrubs, vines and flowering plants come into view. The clean and green ambiance on the way to the falls never fails to dazzle me, lulling me into a hypnotic trance. The faint rush of water gushing from the falls, however, rouses me from my brief reverie, beckoning me to follow the trail to the cascade. Heeding the call, I move on and explore the unplumbed grandeur of the bucolic getaway.

Lest you expect too much from the resort, it has none of the creature comforts found in more developed pleasure grounds. Still largely unspoiled by “progress”, it has no pay phones, no restobars, no souvenir shops, and no fancy cottages where you can spend the night. Whenever I stay there for longer hours, I usually pitch my own tent and bring along my food and drinks. Despite its simplicity, the resort’s au naturel charms pluck at my heartstrings and makes me want to savor for hours the reclusive, no-frills simplicity of its cool waters and verdant foliage.

As dusk settles all over the place, I leave Samal and its soothing solace, thanking God for making this piece of heaven on earth within my reach. And for all it’s worth, I wish — no matter how foolish it may seem — that this island, garden and city, all rolled into one, would survive unscathed the swelling tide of modernization that’s bashing and changing its landscape.

Caught up with Cebu's Colonial Past

Cebu, the first city I've ever seen in the Visayas, always surprises me with something new—an avant-garde bridge, a luxurious mall, a swanky hotel or what have you—whenever certain occasions lead me to visit this boom town; all of them impressive testaments to the progress sweeping the metropolis that reinforce its reputation as the undisputed Queen City of the South. That's why I still look forward to the next visit even if I've been there on countless times during the last two decades. 

Despite its changing landscape, there are a number of things in Cebu that have remained virtually untouched by the relentless wave of urbanization that continues to bash its shores. Take for instance the ancient landmarks that speak so much about its colorful history. One of the city’s more prominent historical shrines I've visited on several occasions is Magellan's Cross. 

Located just a stone’s throw away from city hall, it was put up in honor of the Portuguese navigator who landed on Sugbu (Cebu’s old name) in April 1521. Following a mass held in the island, Ferdinand Magellan planted a wooden cross on the very spot where the shrine now stands and then gave the Sugbu chieftain’s wife an image of the Santo Niño.

Housed inside a roofed chapel-like concrete kiosk, the cross or, more accurately, a replica of the original that was planted almost 500 years ago, never fails to attract the crowds. Every time I go there, the place is often packed with curious tourists, beggars and itinerant peddlers selling a variety of items — guitars, rosary beads, sweets, to name some.

On one occasion, I found myself accosted by women devotees on my way to the covered  pavilion, selling candles and offering to say a prayer for me, for a fee, of course. I politely declined and asked them to leave me in peace. Along with other tourists, I turned my attention to the kiosk’s center of attraction, the wooden cross standing on top of a pedestal. Below the cross is a sign claiming that the real one is encased inside the replica made of tindalo to protect it from people who have been chipping it away for its alleged miraculous healing powers.

Looking up, I noticed the colorful mural on the pavilion’s ceiling that depicted the various events during the arrival of the conquistadors in the island — the conversion of the natives, the image of the Holy Child, and of course, the planting of the cross, among others.
 

In one sortie to the city, I stumbled upon another famous historical landmark: Fort San Pedro. Located at the city’s port area near Plaza Independencia, it was originally built in 1565 under the orders of conquistador Miguel Lopez de Legazpi to protect the settlement from the persistent attacks of Moro raiders. Rebuilt in 1738, the triangular-shaped fort was once called San Miguel but it was renamed to Fuerza de San Pedro later. 

Through the years, the former Spanish fortress stood as mute witness to the unfolding of historical events in the city. It became a barracks and a school during the American regime; a refuge and hospital during the Japanese occupation; and an army camp during the early postwar years. Starting in the 1950s, the crumbling bastion, or some parts of it, was turned into a mini-garden, a clinic, a public works office and—guess what—a zoo!

By the 1960s, it was so dilapidated that a major rehabilitation effort became very imperative if only to save this important historical landmark. It took the collaboration of the city government, a civic club and the tourism board (now the Department of Tourism) to mount the massive undertaking. The restoration work was said to have progressed slowly but the facade, the main building, the walkway and the observatory roof garden were faithfully restored after one and a half years.

At present, the fort houses the DOT office, an open-air theater and a park. Part of it has also been turned into a museum where I came across some well-preserved legacies of Spanish rule in the country such as documents, paintings and sculptures.

Cebu also holds the distinction of having the country's oldest street—Colon, which has been in existence since the time of Legazpi. Located in the downtown area, it was named after Christopher Columbus, the Italian navigator credited for bringing the Americas into the forefront of European attention following his explorations in 1492.

In its heyday, Colon used to be the hive of the city’s business and commercial activities. Following the rise of shopping malls and the exodus of entrepreneurs and merchants into the city’s booming uptown area in the 1990s, it lost quite a significant portion of its customer base. 

The economic crunch in recent years, however, has brought back many shoppers to Colon which has always remained a haven for bargain hunters. Most of its old shops and even the newer ones offer quality merchandise at prices way below those sold by their counterparts at the malls.

At the rate things are going, there’s no stopping to Cebu’s march to progress. With the passage of time, its landscape will continue to change but its historical must-sees will be there to provide fixedness to a city that’s forever in a state of flux. :D

More pics: