It was time to move from Negros Oriental to a small island called Siquijor, less than an hour away by ferry. We bought our ferry tickets a day in advance, which gave us the luxury of a relaxed start to the day: one last walk to the town market for breakfast, passing already familiar banana fields shrouded in morning mist.
After breakfast, we hired a tricycle to Dumaguete port. We briefly considered using a jeepney, but couldn’t imagine squeezing ourselves and our backpacks into one of those tight vehicles.
Hiring a tricycle had other benefits as well. By 8 a.m., the heat was already building up, so a two-kilometer ride from Valencia to our lodgings to pick up our luggage felt much better than a long walk with heavy backpacks.
Our tricycle took us directly to the ferry terminal, sparing us the grueling trek through the sweltering streets and hectic traffic of Dumaguete.
Dumaguete Ferry: Not So Simple
We were not very good with our timing and arrived at the terminal well before our 11 a.m. ferry. Had we not already bought our tickets, we could have taken the earlier morning sailing instead. As it was, we had to wait — but not before jumping through several unexpected hoops.
First, we had to buy tickets just to enter the terminal. Yes, you need to buy a terminal ticket even if you already have a ticket for the ferry.
Then came airport-style security. Our luggage — and we ourselves — went through scanners. Once through, we hoped to sit down and relax. But no.
As the 9 a.m. ferry was about to depart, all passengers in the terminal were required to place their luggage in a long queue on the floor.
A military officer then led a dog along the line, sniffing every suitcase, box, and backpack.
Only after this inspection were those travelers allowed on board — and only then could the rest of us finally sit down to wait. Once the early crowd had cleared, it felt like a wave passing and receding, leaving the terminal quiet for another hour.
When it was time for our ferry, we went through the same luggage-and-dog routine and joined the boarding line — only to be turned away. Apparently, even with tickets in hand, you still need to get your seats assigned at another counter. No seat assignment — no ferry! Simple, right?
Practical Tips:
- Tricycle ride from Valencia to Dumaguete port: 500 PHP (~12 CAD)
- Entry fee for the ferry terminal: 15 PHP (~0.35 CAD)
- Buying tickets in person: go to the left of the ferry terminal. Each ferry company has a separate cashier window. Cash only.
- Ferry ticket to Siquijor on OceanJet: 350 PHP (~8.32 CAD)
- Online booking recommendation: buy tickets through https://www.oceanjet.net rather than third-party sites for better prices.
- Seat assignment: after entering the ferry terminal, look for the counter inside to get your seats assigned. Tickets or not, you cannot board without assigned seats.
The Journey Begins
Finally, with seats assigned, we were allowed to board and begin our journey to Siquijor. Sitting in my seat and observing fellow passengers, I realized there were more foreigners on this ferry than during our entire two weeks in Negros Oriental. I suspect many people simply fly into Dumaguete and immediately take a boat to Siquijor. That had been our original plan as well, and I was very glad we had changed it and spent those quiet weeks on Negros first.
Our ride began with a large TV screen coming to life and playing a prayer for a safe journey. We’d taken many ferries before, but never heard a prayer played before the security procedures video.
Perhaps it was the prayer, but thankfully, our crossing was uneventful, and we docked at Siquijor port around noon.
Clouds rolled in during the crossing, bringing rain that pattered on the waves and streaked the windows, its sounds competing with the movie playing inside. As the ferry gently rolled through the waves, diesel fumes mingled with the scent of the sea, creating that unmistakable boat-at-sea smell. Though it was still raining on arrival, the sun soon broke through, giving us our first glimpse of Siquijor in sunlight.
Arrival: Expectations Meet Reality
We rode a tricycle to our new home, Salamaya Guesthouse. Our driver dropped us at the street Google Maps insisted was correct. It turned out to be a short, rocky, grassy trail that ended abruptly at a fence — with no sign of our guesthouse. After asking around, we learned we needed the next “street,” which meant retracing our steps. This time, we were in the right place.
I had chosen this guesthouse because it had good reviews and was described as being right next to the water and Tubod Beach. It was right next to the water — which sparkled far below, the cliff dropping at least ten meters. Thankfully, stairs led down, so not all was lost.
At first, our room looked airy, bright, and relatively new. Then came the realization as we started unpacking: the room was so tiny that, beyond two twin beds pushed together, there was hardly any space left.
Storage was almost nonexistent: the advertised “clothes rack” was a flimsy contraption with only a few pegs and nowhere to put our backpacks. We ended up wedging them between the bed and the wall and keeping most of our belongings inside them. After two quite spacious lodgings on Negros Oriental, this felt especially cramped.
Tubod Beach: Shallow Beginnings
Our first encounter with the ocean was less than ideal.
I headed down the stairs straight into the sea, only to discover that the water remained ankle-deep for what felt like forever.
I spotted people further down the beach, waist-deep in water, and optimistically headed that way—only to realize they weren’t swimming at all, just sitting in the shallows.
Still determined, feeling the hot sun on my back, I tried walking farther out in search of deeper water. The sandy bottom was dotted with coral, making each step awkward.
After about thirty meters, I gave up and settled for a quick dip instead. On my way back, I asked a local man cleaning the beach whether this was low tide or if the water was always this shallow.
“It’s high tide,” he said, smiling. “Low tide is in the morning.”
Not exactly the news I was hoping for.
After the frustrating swim, one small consolation appeared nearby: a short walk took us to Tambayanan, a charming local restaurant where the food was tasty and the prices reasonable.
“At least something felt right,” I mused, enjoying my bangus — local fish sizzling with vegetables on a hot plate.
Different Roads to San Juan
After supper, we tried hiking to nearby San Juan to check out breakfast options. We found one carinderia that opened at 7 a.m., but overall, budget-friendly options seemed limited — very unlike our experience on Negros. In addition, the walk along the busy road, with plenty of traffic, was not enjoyable — not something we want to repeat. Our failed swim, combined with the unpleasant road hike, made it feel like Siquijor was off to a rough start.
Suddenly, things clicked together: low tide, which was bad for swimming, might be a saving grace for hiking — maybe we could walk along the water all the way to San Juan. Thus a plan for tomorrow was born.
The next morning, we put this idea to test and set off as sun just rose above the horizon, when the air was still cool and scented with the sea.
First, we had to find a way down to the beach, as the stairs from our accommodation led directly into the water. Luckily, the wrong “street” we had taken on arrival ended in a trail that led down to the shore.
It was indeed low tide, with corals rising out of the water as far as the eye could see.
This meant we could walk all the way to town without stepping onto the road. Most of Tubod Beach is lined with resorts, leaving only a narrow strip of public beach between them. Once the beach ended and we reached the first cliffs along the coast, the resorts disappeared. The contrast between manicured beaches with expensive amenities and wilder-looking cliffs was stunning!
Wearing our water shoes, we waded through the warm, clear shallows, never deeper than mid-calf. The sea at low tide provided endless entertainment. Determined hermit crabs ran sideways carrying their shells. Black starfish with tiny tentacles were clinging to each crack and crevice in exposed corals. Small fishes chased each other in tidal pools while local dogs in turn chased after them through the shallows in a spray of warm water.
On our walk, we saw a few local fishermen taking their boats out, but overall there were fewer locals around than in Dauin. The morning was still cool, the tide low, and the ocean beautiful. The walk was very enjoyable: we passed cliff rocks jutting into the sea, sometimes squeezing through tight passages, sometimes scrambling over rocks, or wading through shallow water.
Eventually, we reached San Juan and stopped at a local carinderia recommended on Google. Unfortunately, it did not live up to our expectations. The food selection was poor, with no vegetables in sight. It was already past 8 a.m., we were hot and hungry to look for a different place, so we settled for fried eggs and a piece of fish boiled in vinegar. Even this unremarkable breakfast couldn’t diminish our happiness with the morning walk.
Paliton Beach: A Quieter Side
After breakfast, we considered continuing our walk along the beach, but by then the sun was too high and the heat became oppressive. Instead, we took a tricycle to Paliton Beach, widely described online as the best beach on Siquijor, especially the farther section called “Little Boracay.”
We dutifully walked there and were disappointed. The white sand, turquose water and coconut palms were beautiful, but shade was scarce, vendors were plentiful, and the noise was overwhelming — not our idea of a perfect beach day.
On our way back toward the parking area, however, we discovered a small deserted cove. It had shade from a small cliff, no vendors in sight, and silence filled with only the sound of the ocean and the wind. This felt much closer to our beach dream.
The water was shallow near the shore, but deeper sections started after short wading, allowing us to swim and snorkel.
Marine life was less abundant than on Negros, but we still spent a few blissful hours swimming, snorkeling, and reading before taking a tricycle back to our guesthouse. Slowly, Siquijor began to redeem itself in our eyes.
Practical tips:
- Tricycle ride from San Juan center to Paliton Beach: 150 PHP (~3.60 CAD)
- Entry & parking: a small entrance and parking fee is charged at Paliton Beach
- Finding quieter spots: from the parking area, take the trail to the right. It leads toward Little Boracay and continues to a much quieter cove with better shade and fewer people
- Tricycle ride from Paliton Beach to Coco Grove Resort: 200 PHP (~4.80 CAD)
A Shift in Perspective
Siquijor was not love at first sight. Between ferry logistics, accommodation surprises, shallow waters, and hiking misadventures on our first day, the island had not welcomed us gently. But once we got creative with tides, timing, and terrain, things began to fall into place.
We still weren’t sure what Siquijor would become for us — but it was no longer a disappointment.
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