One weekend of July was no ordinary--an escape to a paradise found, all shrouded both in mystery and charm. It was a bit ecstatic to have a glimpse of the mystical island from afar, which is even made more exciting by the group of clouds scattered all over its horizon. From where I stood at the old, rusty and slow-running ship, I drew scenarios that would unfold in my six-hour escape to the mystical island of Siquijor.
The heat was unforgiving when I set foot in the so-called island of fire. As we circled the island, we came up with the thought that this island is truly one of its kind.
Siquijor was barely on my radar then, not being a natural destination for the faint-hearted. For all our madness and flirtation with adventure, I popped out the question to our driver (who also served as our tour guide) the inevitable: Is there really such thing as witchcraft practices in the island?
The heat was unforgiving when I set foot in the so-called island of fire. As we circled the island, we came up with the thought that this island is truly one of its kind.
Siquijor was barely on my radar then, not being a natural destination for the faint-hearted. For all our madness and flirtation with adventure, I popped out the question to our driver (who also served as our tour guide) the inevitable: Is there really such thing as witchcraft practices in the island?
There was an awkward silence. Moments later, he affirmatively replied, to the point of enumerating words like mambabarang and even aswang. But these are just a thing of the past, he said. While some still exist, their numbers are few.
As we traversed the nicely-paved road network, I found out that the quaint in Siquijor mixes easily with modern world. When we made it to the serene and peaceful part of the island—all vouched with the rustic feel of old houses and eerie-looking line of huge trees—I began to associate Siquijor as a paradise perfect for a weekend escape.
No place in the island gave me a sense of time standing still more than the spot in Salagdoong, a remote, government-owned beach resort in the town of Maria. It’s a 360-degree visual treat, its palette dominated by aqua blue, its sea breeze a massage to the ear—perfect ingredients for a sweet escape. Old churches also dot the island; a 400-year old balete tree stands like a king, a carefree and lonely road leading you to pleasant surprises appearing in a form of a cascading waterfall, an old-fashioned town plaza, paintings on the ceilings of stone churches and most importantly, the people who are flashing the warmest smile one could ever see.
The journey to Siquijor is all worth it. As I am lulled by the waves on my way back, the memories of the island flashed in my mind: the almost glorious isolation in a time that ran slow. What a wonderful escape!
Until next time, beautiful Siquijor!
L.
Until next time, beautiful Siquijor!
L.
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