I dream of spending the day in Siquijor

Ah, Siquijor. How magical you are.

I swear, every time I think about that island, my heart gets this quiet little ache, the good kind, the kind that makes you want to pack your bags and disappear for a weekend just to breathe softer again.

Earlier this year, Pat and I went to Siquijor to celebrate our anniversary. It was our first trip together, so everything felt extra special, extra new, and extra us.

Before we even got there, the planning stage already felt like an adventure. We spent weeks saving up, checking out accommodations, and hunting for the best deals we could find. I took charge of the itinerary — of course — and carefully mapped out the spots we'd visit, the beaches we'd see, and the hours we’d spend doing absolutely nothing. Something was grounding about planning a trip for two… it made me excited in a quiet, steady way.

When the day finally came, we caught the earliest ferry to the island. The moment we arrived, it felt like the whole place whispered, “Slow down. You’re safe here.” Everything was calm. Everything was soft. Everything felt like peace.

We went snorkeling as soon as we got settled, and honestly? The water in Siquijor is pure magic. Clear, gentle, and so blue it almost didn’t feel real. As we floated there, surrounded by underwater creatures, corals, and little fish, everything was glowing beneath the surface. I remember thinking, How is this my life right now? It was surreal in the most beautiful way.

We talked to the locals like we were locals too, which I loved. There’s something so comforting about island conversations, warm, unhurried, and sincere. By midday, we found ourselves sharing a hearty meal, the kind that tastes better simply because you’re by the sea and happy.

On our second day, we woke up early to explore more of the island. The stillness of the morning, the soft light, the quiet, made everything feel dreamlike. Siquijor has this way of slowing time down without you noticing. You’re just there, present, breathing, existing… peacefully.

That place felt like a sanctuary.

And I would go back in a heartbeat. I remember standing there, taking one last look, whispering in my head, I’ll come back.

But the universe wasn’t done with us yet.

We didn’t get home as planned.
Instead, we ended up stuck in Loay, Bohol, for three whole days.

It was unexpected and slightly chaotic, but in a weird, amusing way, which added charm to the story. One moment, we were closing a peaceful trip, and the next, we were stranded somewhere completely unplanned. But maybe that’s the thing about traveling: the detours become memories too. The unplanned becomes part of the story. And the delays… they teach you patience and softness in ways you don’t see until later.

Siquijor was magic.

Loay was a plot twist.

And together, they made a story I’ll keep coming back to.

E.