Journey Home: Rediscovering Bohol’s Heart and the Soul of Filipino Travel

There’s a special kind of magic in going home, isn’t there? As a Filipino who grew up amidst the vibrant chaos of Manila and the serene beauty of Bohol, and now calls the United States home, every chance to return to the Philippines is a precious gift. My heart, you see, is deeply rooted not just in the bustling energy of the capital, but more profoundly in the sweet, authentic provincial rhythm of Bohol, the very island my family hails from.

Growing up, my summers and Christmases were painted with Boholano hues: laughing with cousins, being doted on by aunties and uncles, and, of course, absolutely spoiled by my grandparents. It was a childhood steeped in tradition, community, and the undeniable charm of island life.

The Heart of Home: Why Bohol Keeps Calling Me Back

This past Christmas, the anticipation of revisiting our incredible little island was almost unbearable. I dreamt of Bohol’s breathtaking white-sand beaches, the undeniably delicious local cuisine, and the legendary warmth of the Bol-anon people, our community. It’s a place that wraps you in a comforting embrace, a feeling unlike anywhere else in the world.

But soon after my arrival, a familiar whisper turned into a noticeable hum: a local controversy that has simmered for years. The talk was that Bohol, much like many other stunning tourist destinations across the Philippines, has become perceived as too expensive, too inefficient, and too challenging for visitors to navigate. Sounds disheartening, right?

The Unspoken Truth: Is Philippine Tourism Missing the Mark?

I heard murmurs comparing our tourism infrastructure to our Southeast Asian neighbors like Vietnam and Thailand, where travelers can seemingly glide through attractions, enjoying seamless packages with transport effortlessly included. “The Philippines just isn’t worth it,” some would lament. Is that truly the case? Is our beloved country truly falling short on such a fundamental level? Perhaps there’s more to the story than meets the eye.

Honestly, I call that a bit of botbot, a charming Visayan word for nonsense. Now, don’t get me wrong, our systems certainly need and demand significant improvement. For too long, we’ve yearned for better infrastructure, more efficient public transport, and stronger public services to ensure both tourists and Filipinos can explore our beautiful archipelago with minimal fuss. But to believe that we are inherently inferior to our Southeast Asian peers? That thinking only perpetuates a cycle of self-doubt and shame that ultimately holds us back from true progress.

Let’s face it, these challenges aren’t exclusive to the Philippines. Every developing nation grapples with monumental growing pains. Think about the hurdles of building roads, expanding airports, or improving sanitation and waste management. Even much-celebrated tourist hotspots like Thailand, Vietnam, and yes, even South Korea in its own developing stages, have faced these exact same struggles. It’s a journey, not a sprint.

Beyond the Hype: Embracing the Authentic Charm of Anda

Take my recent weekend escape to eastern Bohol, for instance. I ventured to Anda, a rustic beach town facing Mindanao, celebrated for its pristine white-sand beaches, enchanting cave pools, and rich eco-cultural and historical sites. It offers an incredible, bohemian counterpoint to the more heavily commercialized tourism of Panglao. While Panglao enjoys immense popularity, it too wrestles with its share of trash, sanitation, and regulatory issues, sometimes at the expense of visitors seeking a polished “Phuket or Bali” experience. But is that what we truly want, a carbon copy?

What truly captivated me about Anda was its unwavering connection to local life. Here, the world revolves around fishing boats returning with their morning catch, farmers tending to their land, families enjoying the shore, and community rhythms intimately tied to the ebb and flow of the sea. Yes, foreign visitors are present, but they aren’t the sun around which life revolves. The locals are.

While the journey from Panglao airport is undeniably long and a tad inconvenient—at least three hours—that very distance acts as a guardian, preserving something incredibly precious. In our hyper-modernized, AI-driven world, Anda offers a rare commodity: a profound sense of deep context, culture, and a truly lived-in place that’s fast disappearing elsewhere.

In Anda, we chose to stay at a delightful locally-run vacation home, a spacious villa thoughtfully styled like a modern nipa hut. Getting around was a breeze, thanks to a convenient transport arrangement through a baobao (a large tricycle) driver connected to the community. This wonderful driver even arranged for a local masseuse to visit us! And the property caretaker? He anticipated our needs with such heartfelt thoughtfulness that one morning he even went out to gather supplies so we could cook our own breakfast. This wasn’t just exceptional service; it felt genuine, unforced, and deeply rooted in Filipino hospitality.

Just a short stroll down the road was Bitoon White Beach, where local families ushered in the New Year with lavish, starry spreads of food, swimming joyfully in warm, turquoise waters, floating on their salbabidas. In the distance, volcanic Mount Hibok-Hibok on Camiguin Island loomed majestically on the horizon. At Cabagnow Cave Pool, local children fearlessly leaped from rocky ledges into the cool, blue depths, a handful of European and Asian visitors scattered among mostly Andahanon families. It was a beautiful tableau of authentic life.

I don’t mean to romanticize Anda entirely. It is rugged, and like almost every destination globally, it’s beginning to show the subtle scars of modern tourism: single-use plastics, occasional litter, and environmental wear and tear. But with thoughtful regulation, dedicated education, and diligent enforcement around waste and sanitation, we can absolutely preserve its innate beauty for both locals and visitors alike. It’s a matter of conscious effort, isn’t it?

A New Wave of Travel: The Filipino Way Forward

Our country is uniquely sculpted by our archipelagic geography, a profoundly relational way of being, the powerful spirit of bayanihan that blossoms from our barangays, and cherished local traditions like the fiesta and Indigenous foodways that place community and collective well-being at their very core.

And while it may not yet be plastered across billboards, quiet progress has been steadily unfolding in our provinces for a long time now: a movement towards slow, intentional tourism that champions local knowledge, integrates Indigenous wisdom and practices, and, crucially, preserves and cares for our precious environment.

Discovering Intentional Tourism Gems

Consider these inspiring examples, a testament to the Filipino spirit of innovation and conservation:

• The people of Anda, organizing to protect their beloved coral reefs (after decades of overfishing and dynamite fishing) and launching popular, community-driven tours of Lamanok Island, a prime archaeological site in Bohol renowned for its precolonial burial traditions and Indigenous babaylan practices.
• The extraordinary revival of a precolonial salt-making Boholano tradition to produce the exceedingly rare and highly sought-after gourmand asin tibuok in the coastal town of Albur.
• Nearby Negros Oriental being designated as the Philippines’ first Slow Food Travel destination, where visitors can truly immerse themselves in local food culture and systems, meet dedicated farmers and fishermen, learn traditional cooking methods, and even participate in planting trees and crops.
• Multiple pioneering eco-tourism initiatives in Palawan, such as preserving and protecting the iconic Tubbataha Reefs National Park – one of the most remote diving spots in the country that takes at least six hours to access in the middle of the Sulu Sea – a hard-earned journey richly rewarded by some of the world’s most incredible marine biodiversity and special bragging rights among divers.

The issue isn’t that the Philippines can’t modernize – we absolutely should, and we are! But this modernization must be deeply rooted in our own dignity, intention, and heartfelt care, rather than being driven by shame or the misguided notion that we must simply mimic other countries to be considered worthy. When we believe we are behind by default, we stifle our creativity, preventing us from imagining ingenious, Filipino-first solutions that truly honor our unique geography, profound history, and vibrant culture. We risk chasing Westernized speed and scale without truly considering who gets displaced or exploited, what gets irrevocably damaged in our precious environment, and ultimately, what priceless cultural heritage gets lost and erased forever.

Charting Our Own Course: The Future of Filipino Travel

Perhaps the Philippines will never be a perfectly oiled, hyper-efficient travel machine – and honestly, maybe that’s perfectly okay. Instead, our unique identity calls for a different, richer way of traveling and living here: slow, relational, intentional, and profoundly respectful of local life and our delicate environment. Wouldn’t you agree that’s something truly special?

We absolutely should take immense pride in that. Not as a form of denial, but as the strong foundation for a modernization and development that is responsible, truly lasting, and deeply rooted in self-respect. We don’t need to be the next Vietnam or Thailand to define progress. We can modernize our systems and lead our nation forward through the authentic Filipino way – rooted in bayanihan, kapwa, and pagkakaisa – not just by discussing or believing in our potential, but by taking bold, concrete, strategic action toward our collective dreams.

We can build our future on our own terms. And the time to act is now.

Maki is a community organizer, entrepreneur, and fierce Filipino cultural advocate. Born and raised in the Philippines, she currently lives in the US, where she’s building up her experience and connections to better support the Philippines when she returns.