After a very long flight from Vancouver, we spent our first week in the Philippines in a small coastal town called Dauin, on Negros Oriental.

It was a slow, gentle week of settling into a rhythm after a long journey, watching the ocean change from day to day, and getting a taste – sometimes literally – of everyday life in Dauin.

Arriving and Settling In

Our Airbnb was in a small apartment building not far from the beach. It was surrounded by local houses, so the roosters provided very enthusiastic morning alarms.
We stayed in unit #3 on the ground floor, with a simple living room–kitchen setup and a separate bedroom with A/C — comfortable, quiet, and exactly what we needed after a long trip.

The price was quite budget friendly: 267.17 CAD for seven nights.

After a 30+ hour trip, we woke up late and walked to the local market for breakfast. We picked the first busy stall we saw — #4 — and it turned out to be a very lucky choice. They had a whole selection of homemade dishes: vegetables, soups, eggs, meat.

We briefly considered going for a swim or a snorkel afterward, but the sea was still rough from Typhoon Tino, which had passed the day before. We wanted to explore a bit, even though we were tired, so we hopped on a jeepney to Dumaguete — but that is a story for another post.

We ended the day with dinner at Jardin, a restaurant hidden in a peaceful garden just across from our place. It was the perfect spot to make up for missing Valery’s birthday while we were in the air.

To Cook Or Not To Cook

Usually when we slow travel, we like to cook at home for breakfast and supper using local ingredients. We tried to do the same in the Philippines but quickly discovered that eating out is actually more economical and much more convenient — if you know where to go!

Our kitchen didn’t have any spices — not even salt. Dreading a bland egg supper, I went to the market to get some — but it was nowhere to be found. A vendor pointed me to a small shop, but when I asked for salt, they offered me a 20-kg bag!

I ended up buying a small packet of seasoning instead to go with my eggs for that night. This culinary struggle put an end to my cooking ambitions, and we decided to eat out every day.

Finding Our Rhythm

Within a couple of days we developed a routine. Every morning we headed back to the market and eventually became regulars at stall #4.

It became our go-to place for home-cooked Filipino meals. The owner, a lovely and kind lady named Rebecca, cooked the tastiest food we’ve tried in the Philippines so far.

As the days passed, we started chatting more with Rebecca. One morning she treated us to sticky rice cooked with coconut milk and wrapped in a banana leaf — a very common local food. Another time, Valery mentioned that he loves 100% dark chocolate without sugar, and the next day she surprised us with local unsweetened chocolate as a gift. That gesture alone summed up the warmth we felt from people in Dauin.

Practical tip:
If you stay in Dauin and want to eat great homemade food without breaking the bank, give stall #4 at the local market a try. They serve hot, fresh food from 6 a.m. until 4 p.m., and the selection changes during the day.

Rebecca was unforgettable in her warmth and generosity, and she gave us such a personal welcome. And beyond her, everyone here has been incredibly friendly. Complete strangers smile and greet you as you walk by. We learned to say salamat (“thank you”) in the local language, and I wish you could see the genuine smiles our awkward attempts brought out. Those tiny interactions made everyday life here feel deeply welcoming.

Snorkeling at Apo Island and Dauin

On Friday we took a snorkeling trip to Apo island with Bongo Bongo Divers. Our boat was mostly filled with divers, with only five snorkelers including us. The first two sites had calm water and lots of life — we saw two turtles, plenty of coral, and fish in all shapes and colours. The highlight was a green turtle, which ignored us and went about its business while we snorkelers curiously trailed after her for several minutes. In the end she surfaced for a gulp of air and then dived away — clearly we had tested her patience.

At the end of the second dive, I had a small incident. I was following colorful corals and fish and hadn’t noticed that I had drifted too close to the shore. Suddenly, several rough waves washed over me, pushing me under, flooding my snorkel, and scaring me a bit. Fortunately, our guide was nearby, and I was able to grab her floating device to rest and regain my bearings.

Maybe because of this incident, I didn’t want to go for the third dive, especially as the sea turned choppy and clouds rolled in. As a real gentleman, Valery stayed with me. By that point we were both tired anyway, happy to sit on the boat and relax until the divers returned.

Practical tip.
At first we considered visiting Apo Island on our own by hiring a boat from Malatapay. But after reading recent Google reviews, it seemed both more expensive and complicated than joining a tour. The price breakdown looked like this:

• 3,500 pesos for the boat (1–4 people)
• 300 pesos per person for a mandatory 45-minute guided snorkel
• 1,000 pesos extra if you want to visit other snorkeling spots around the island

By comparison, our full-day trip (8:00 a.m.–3:30 p.m.) with Bongo Bongo Divers cost 1,900 pesos per person, lunch included. We felt it was a very good deal and completely stress-free.

The next morning, the sea was calm again during our sunrise swim, but we had no energy left for snorkeling later in the day. We were still feeling the fatigue from our long flight, jet lag, and the Apo Island adventure the day before.

That turned out to be unfortunate, because the following three days brought another typhoon — Uwan — and the ocean turned rough and wild.

Between Two Typhoons

As luck would have it, our timing in Dauin fell neatly between two typhoons. Tino cleared just before we arrived, and Uwan passed a few days later. Luckily neither storm hit Dauin hard, but we still ended up with very wet days and ocean conditions that made snorkeling nearly impossible.

“Wet” is probably an understatement. On Sunday we walked to the market for breakfast, and by the time we headed home the rain had turned into a solid wall of water. We waited under a roof for five minutes and then gave up — we were soaked to the bone within half a block. After that, we stopped caring about getting wet. Locals didn’t seem bothered at all, and eventually neither were we. The upside of all this rain was that it kept the days cooler and more bearable.

Although we swam every day, we didn’t even attempt to snorkel on Sunday and Monday while typhoon was passing through. The waves were too strong, it was either raining or overcast, and visibility was poor. Our first attempt at off-the-shore snorkeling happened only on our last full day. We saw lots of colourful fish, but the waves still made it a bit of a struggle.

The best snorkeling of the whole week happened, of course, on our very last morning — the sea finally turned calm and clear, and visibility was perfect. We swam at sunrise, had one final magical snorkel, and then returned home to pack for our next stop in Valencia.

Practical tip:
The best snorkeling in Dauin is usually between 9–12 when the sea is calmer and the sun is high. Avoid low tide — the water gets too shallow. You need a 50-peso ticket, and the booth is right on the beach near Bongo-Bongo. The reef starts right from the shore, but be careful of corals in shallow water. It’s better to swim on the outer side of the reef.

Life by the Ocean in Dauin

In spite of the rain, wind and rough sea, we enjoyed beach walks several times a day.

One afternoon we saw a banner on a small shop that said: “Ocean takes care of us. Let’s return the favour.” At first it felt like a generic phrase, but after spending a week here it began to make sense.

The ocean really does shape daily life in Dauin. At dawn, dive centre employees loaded boats, and by sunset, fishermen hauled in heavy nets.

During low tide, older men and women combed the rocks for clams, while toddlers explored the water’s edge and older kids plunged into the high waves left by the typhoon. Teenagers gathered on the beach at night, as fishermen set out in boats with bright lights, disappearing into the dark.

Watching all of this day after day, we could feel how deeply people here are connected to the ocean — how much it gives, and how much care it requires in return. It felt meaningful in a way we didn’t expect.

A Quiet First Week

This first week wasn’t about checking off sights or rushing anywhere. It was about waking up early to swim with the first light of the dawn, eating home-style food at the market, getting soaked in the rain and pushed around by the winds of the passing typhoon, and adjusting to the slow, warm rhythm of life in a coastal town.

Dauin welcomed us gently — even between two typhoons — and it already feels like a place we’ll remember for a long time.