The tiny island of Pamilacan, adrift in the Bohol Sea about 23km east of Balicasag, is cetacean central, its rich waters supporting marine megafauna including whales and dolphins, manta rays and sharks. Islanders have always lived off the sea, hunting whales until the ban in 1992, then targeting sharks and rays. In 1993 Sulliman University recorded 30 whale sharks landing in Pamilacan in just 44 days. If you visited the island in the mid-1990s, lanes would be full of shark and manta meat drying in the sun. Finally, in 1998, whale shark and manta hunting were officially banned.
Surfers, look no further. Most travelers heading here are bound for barangay Urbiztondo in San Juan, a beach town 4mi (6km) north of San Fernando that gets the country’s most consistent waves from November to March. During the season a legion of bronzed instructors offer beginners some of the world’s cheapest surf lessons on perfect learners’ waves.
Palawan’s bustling capital is mainly a gateway to El Nido and the beaches of the west coast, but “Puerto” does have enough diversions to warrant a day or two if you’re passing through. A rising food scene, some nightlife along main drag Rizal Ave, and a growing number of boutique hotels increase the appeal.
To many travellers, North Luzon is simply the Cordillera. These spiny mountains, which top out at around 2900m, are beloved, worshipped and feared in equal doses by those who witness them and those who live among them.
A region that invites intrepid exploration, North Luzon encapsulates a nation in miniature. Surfers race waves onto sunny beaches, where whites sands are lapped by teal waters. Machete-carrying mountain tribespeople are quick to smile and quicker to share their rice wine. An impenetrable jungle hides endemic critters. In Spanish colonial cities, sunlight breaks through seashell windows. Far-flung islands with pristine landscapes greet few visitors.
Nothing defines Palawan more than the water around it. With seascapes the equal of any in Southeast Asia, the Philippines’ most sparsely populated region is also the most beguiling. The 403-mile main island stretches all the way to Borneo.
Sitting among mist-shrouded mountains, tiny Sagada is the closest thing the Philippines has to a Southeast Asian backpacker hub, yet it's possible to find tranquillity along its many hiking trails and get your adrenalin pumping on adventures in the depths of its caves. There's a mystical element to this village, a former refuge for intelligentsia fleeing dictatorship: the centuries-old coffins high up along limestone cliffs lie close to the sky, and days and nights are peaceful thanks to the lack of tricycles or much other traffic.
The coastline from Cagayan de Oro to Surigao and the offshore islands off the far northeastern tip is a region apart from the rest of Mindanao. Though largely spared from the violence experienced by other parts of the island, it’s often inaccurately stigmatised simply by dint of association. Siargao is one of the best places in the Philippines to hang ten or simply hang. Volcanic Camiguin is seventh heaven for outdoor-lovers, and the university town of Cagayan is both a gateway to the region and a base for adventures in the surrounding Bukidnon Province.
Once the hub of a booming sugar industry, these days Bacolod is known for its food and convenience as a transport hub. There are a few sights of historic interest and good restaurants, and it's a useful base for Mt Kanlaon Natural Park or the nearby historic district of Silay.
This was Typhoon Yolanda's “ground zero”. Tacloban took a direct hit on 8 November 2013, when the mother-of-all tropical storms destroyed the city. Yet as you walk through Tacloban's streets today, it's impossible to imagine the apocalyptic scenes on that fateful morning. The center has been fixed up, hotels have been repaired and there's even a degree of cafe culture evident. Tacloban's bars are again filled with local drinkers instead of relief workers. Yes, the city has resumed its role as the commercial heart of both Leyte and Samar.