🌴 Chasing a Dream: My Bohol Adventure Begins
The reason I was rushing like crazy to get from Manila to Cebu wasn’t just about sticking to a schedule, it was because I had a dream. And that dream was called Bohol.
Ever since I started planning this trip, Bohol had a special place on my itinerary. I had booked a full-day tour from Cebu to Bohol through the GetYourGuide app, and honestly? I couldn’t wait. It wasn’t “just another tour” for me- it was the tour. The kind of adventure you feel in your bones. That one thing you just know you have to see with your own eyes.
I had planned every single day of this journey to fit together like puzzle pieces, and there was absolutely no space for error. My only “free” day in Cebu was the day I arrived, and even then, it wasn’t really free. I was just trying to breathe, eat something, and pray that everything would go smoothly so I wouldn’t miss Bohol.
So when my feet finally touched Cebu soil, I felt this massive wave of relief, and excitement. I made it. I didn’t care how tired I was from the travel. I didn’t care about the airport chaos or the delays. All I knew was: Tomorrow, I’m going to Bohol.
⏰ Early Mornings & Big Dreams: The Start of My Bohol Tour
I booked my Bohol tour through the GetYourGuide app, and let me tell you, it was worth every cent. The tour cost around 140+ euros, and it was an all-day experience that included everything: hotel pick-up, ferry transport from Cebu to Bohol and back, entrance fees, a delicious local lunch, and a guided journey through some of the most iconic sights on the island.
The day started bright and early at 7 a.m. I barely had time to sip my coffee when my van pulled up in front of my hotel. I was still half-asleep but so full of excitement that I couldn’t stop smiling. You know that feeling when you’re both exhausted and buzzing with energy at the same time? That was me.
As I hopped in the van and looked around at the other sleepy but excited travelers, I felt that familiar spark, this is really happening. I was on my way to a place I had seen only in pictures, watched in videos, read about in travel blogs… and now it was finally my turn.
⛴ Strangers at the Port & the Beginning of Something Beautiful
After the hotel pick-up, our driver dropped us off at the ferry port in Cebu. Even though our tickets were already booked online, we had to go through the little ritual of queuing up at the counter, getting our physical tickets, and passing through security. There was that quiet travel buzz in the air, the mix of salty ocean breeze, sleepy travelers, and the occasional announcement on the loudspeaker we could barely understand.
That’s where I met the rest of my little travel crew for the day.
We were a small but sweet group: a friendly Italian couple from San Marino, a lovely lady from Colombia, a solo Australian guy, and me, the over-excited girl from Macedonia who had dreamed about this day for months.
We started chatting while waiting for boarding, slowly warming up to each other like travelers often do. I always love that moment when complete strangers, thrown together by fate (or a tour booking app 😄), begin to share stories. Where are you from? Where are you headed next? What are you most excited to see? That subtle magic of human connection was already in the air, and we hadn’t even left Cebu yet.
The ferry was still a few minutes away, but inside, I was already halfway to Bohol.
🚤 On the Water: Two Hours of Anticipation
Finally, the moment came, we boarded the ferry, and the journey across the sparkling sea toward Bohol began. Almost two hours stretched ahead of us, and honestly, it felt like both an eternity and a blink of an eye all at once.
I found my seat and decided to pass the time by watching a movie playing on the ferry’s TV. It was the perfect distraction, but my mind kept drifting to the adventure waiting for me on the other side. Every wave we cut through brought me closer to the magical island I had dreamed about.
There was something so calming about sitting there, watching the endless blue ocean roll by, feeling the gentle sway of the boat beneath me. It was the kind of quiet moment where time seems to slow down, a peaceful pause between the rush of city life and the excitement of exploring something totally new.
By the time the ferry started approaching the Bohol port, my heart was racing with anticipation. The landscape slowly came into view, green hills rising like gentle giants from the sea. I couldn’t wait to step foot on that island and start exploring.
🌿 Welcome to Bohol - Let the Adventure Begin!
As our ferry gently docked at the Bohol port, I spotted a smiling lady holding a sign with our guide’s name, a little beacon of welcome after the calm ferry ride. We waited for the rest of the group to arrive, turns out, there were 12 of us in total, a perfect size for a day full of exploration.
Once everyone was gathered, we set off together, ready to discover the hidden gems of Bohol.
Our tour guide introduced herself with a warm smile. Right from the start, I knew we were in good hands. She was calm, funny, and had this relaxed vibe that instantly put me at ease. As we began the journey, she started sharing fascinating stories, fun facts, and insider tips about the Philippines and the unique charm of Bohol.
I loved how she wove history, culture, and nature into our day, making everything come alive with meaning. It wasn’t just a tour; it felt like a conversation with a friend who wanted nothing more than to show us the heart of this incredible place.
I remember thinking, “This day is going to be unforgettable.”
🩸 History in the Air: The Blood Compact Shrine
With our full group assembled, we hopped into the van, our cozy little team, our cheerful guide, and our friendly driver, ready to explore Bohol. Our first stop was short, but it carried a deep historical weight: the Blood Compact Shrine.
This place marks one of the most iconic events in Philippine history, the Sandugo, which means “one blood.” It was here in 1565 that Datu Sikatuna, a chieftain of Bohol, and Spanish explorer Miguel López de Legazpi sealed their friendship through a blood compact. Yes, you read that right, they each made a small cut on their arms, mixed their blood in a cup of wine, and drank it. It was a symbolic act of trust, peace, and alliance.
Our guide gave us a short but interesting explanation, and I could feel the weight of that moment in history just standing there. The shrine itself features a sculpture that captures the scene, two men frozen in a toast that happened nearly 500 years ago.
Did you know? What many people don’t realize is that the Sandugo was actually one of the first documented peace treaties between Filipinos and Europeans, long before colonization fully took hold. While most stories about Spain and the Philippines focus on conflict, this moment showed the spirit of diplomacy and respect that could have defined a different history.
We took a few photos with the shrine and soaked in the energy of the place. It was a quick stop, just about 10–15 minutes, but it left a powerful impression on me. There’s something surreal about standing in the exact spot where a historic toast for peace was made centuries ago.
Back in the van, the windows rolled down, wind in my hair, and I was already looking forward to what was next.
⛪ A Sacred Pause: Baclayon Church
Our next stop took us even deeper into the roots of Bohol’s history, Baclayon Church, officially known as La Purisima Concepcion de la Virgen Maria Parish Church. Even before we stepped out of the van, our guide gently reminded us about the dress code: no shorts above the knee, no sleeveless tops, no revealing clothing. This wasn’t just about respect, it was about stepping into a living piece of sacred history.
Baclayon Church is one of the oldest churches in the Philippines, and actually, one of the oldest stone churches in all of Asia. Built in 1596 by Spanish missionaries, it was originally made of coral stones that were painstakingly cut into blocks and cemented together with egg whites and lime. Yes, egg whites! Imagine the amount of care and craftsmanship that went into building something meant to last centuries.
As I walked around the quiet grounds, I could feel a sense of deep spirituality, not just from the architecture, but from the very air. The Philippines is a deeply spiritual country, and that devotion radiates from places like Baclayon. It’s not flashy, it’s not grand, it’s humble, old, and full of soul.
Did you know? The church once housed a museum filled with antique religious relics, priest vestments from the 1800s, and old hymnals written in Latin. Though it suffered major damage during the 2013 earthquake, Baclayon Church has been lovingly restored, and it continues to be a symbol of faith, resilience, and history for the locals.
We stayed here for about 30 minutes, quietly walking, listening to our guide share insights, and just… feeling. That’s the only way I can describe it. I didn’t need to be Catholic or even religious to be moved. The stillness, the sunlight cutting through the old windows, the whispers of people praying, it all reminded me that travel is not just about seeing, but also about feeling.
🌧 Will the Rain Steal My Moment? Heading to the Tarsier Sanctuary
Although the weather forecast had warned us of a rainy day, nature had other plans. The skies were heavy, yes, but instead of downpours, we were greeted with sticky humidity and a dry, sweltering heat that wrapped around us like a thick blanket. The kind that makes your clothes stick and your energy slowly melt… but still, I didn’t care. My excitement was stronger than the weather.
Thankfully, our van had air-conditioning, so every ride between stops felt like a tiny break, a pause to cool off, reset, and charge up for the next experience.
Our next destination? The one I was looking forward to the most on this tour: the Tarsier Sanctuary. I had seen photos of these tiny, big-eyed primates before, but now I was finally going to see them up close, in their natural environment. My heart was literally bouncing with excitement. Like a child heading to meet a favorite storybook character.
But as we began getting closer to the sanctuary, the skies above us started to shift. Clouds thickened, the light dimmed, and raindrops began to fall in scattered spots along the road. I sat by the window, quietly watching the gray build up in the sky, and a little anxiety started to creep in.
What if they hide because of the rain? What if we came all this way and didn’t see a single tarsier?
I could feel the nerves bubbling up. This wasn’t just another stop, this was the moment I had been dreaming about. The thought of missing it made my heart sink a little. I was trying to stay hopeful, but I was preparing myself for disappointment too.
Would we be lucky enough to see them? Would the forest still offer us a glimpse of these shy, nocturnal creatures with their soulful, alien-like eyes?
We were about to find out.
👁 Tiny Eyes, Big Feelings: Stories from the Road to the Tarsiers
As our van wound through the lush greenery of Bohol, getting closer to the sanctuary, the weather was shifting, and so was the mood inside. Our guide began sharing stories that were as captivating as they were heartbreaking.
She told us about how, when she and her friends were children, they used to find tarsiers in the jungle. Back then, they didn’t know any better. With the innocent curiosity of kids, they would take them home, thinking it was fun, having a pet with those wide, cartoon-like eyes and tiny trembling bodies. But by the next morning, the tarsiers would always be dead.
I felt something sink in my chest.
You see, tarsiers are incredibly sensitive. These fragile little primates can’t handle stress, not even a little bit. The change in environment, the touch of a human, the noise, the fear, it’s too much for them. Their hearts literally give out.
I looked out the window as the rain started softly tapping the glass, and I felt this wave of sadness. It was one of those moments that reminds you how deeply delicate nature can be. How easy it is to destroy something just by loving it the wrong way.
But then our guide smiled, and her voice lifted with hope.
“Now it’s different,” she told us. “Now people know. They’re educated. We teach our children, and we protect them.”
She explained that tarsiers are endemic to the Philippines, especially here in Bohol, and they cannot survive outside their natural environment. Even when moved to other countries, they rarely live more than a few months. That’s how closely they’re tied to this place, to these trees, this air, this island.
The closer we got to the sanctuary, the more reverent the moment felt. I wasn’t just excited anymore. I was honored. I realized we weren’t going to see animals in a zoo, we were stepping into their world. Quietly. Gently. Hopefully.
And still… the question hung in the air: Would the rain stop in time? Would they come out and let us see them?
🌧 Umbrellas, Rules & Holding Our Breath: Entering the Tarsier Sanctuary
By the time we pulled into the parking lot, the rain hadn’t let up, it was still falling, soft but steady, like the forest was whispering. The staff handed us umbrellas, and under the gray sky, we made our way toward the Tarsier Sanctuary, carefully stepping around puddles and thick tropical leaves dripping with water.
Before we could meet the stars of the sanctuary, we had to watch an educational video. And honestly, I was glad. It wasn’t just about safety, it was about respect.
These creatures aren’t just small, they’re incredibly fragile, solitary, and easily stressed. Even the wrong movement or too much attention can frighten them to death. The sanctuary exists to protect them, not to entertain us. It was a beautiful reminder that we are guests here.
The video also gave us a few fascinating facts:
- Tarsiers are one of the smallest primates in the world, about the size of your fist.
- Their eyes are bigger than their brains- yes, really!
- They can rotate their heads almost 180 degrees, like little furry owls.
- They’re strictly nocturnal, which is why this daylight visit felt like a silent privilege.
When the video ended, we gathered near the trail, umbrellas in hand, hearts quietly beating with anticipation. Our guide was coming to take us in.
We stood there, not knowing what to expect. Would we see just one? Maybe two? Maybe none at all? The rain was still falling, and our group was unusually quiet. I think we all felt it, that mix of excitement and uncertainty, like holding your breath before something sacred.
And then… it was time.
👁 A Dream Fulfilled: Face to Face with the Tarsiers
As we quietly followed our guide into the restricted sanctuary area, something beautiful happened, the rain began to ease. It was as if the forest itself was giving us a sign: You may enter now. I left my umbrella behind, not wanting anything between me and this long-awaited experience.
My heart was racing.
The moment had finally come, the one I had dreamed about, rushed for, prayed for. We walked in single file, careful not to make a sound, and our guide whispered that only three tarsiers had been spotted today. That was it. Three chances to see one of the most fragile, mysterious primates on the planet. And we would see them all, one by one.
I was right behind the guide, barely breathing from excitement.
We reached the first tree. He pointed. We all leaned forward, eyes scanning the leaves, and I saw… nothing.
I didn’t expect it to be that small. It was unreal, like something out of a fairytale. A living whisper in the forest.
I felt this wave of emotion rise in my chest, joy, awe, disbelief, and I could feel tears quietly forming in the corners of my eyes. Even now, writing about it, I tear up all over again. That moment… it was something I’ll carry with me forever.
We all stood there in absolute silence. No one dared to speak. We just watched, amazed, grateful. Everyone was careful not to disturb the little creature, gently snapping photos, moving slowly, respectfully.
And then we moved on, to the next tree, and then the third. Each time, it felt like we were being given a gift. Their giant eyes, their tiny hands clutching the branches, their unbelievably long tails, so delicate, so quiet, so impossibly alive.
I couldn’t believe I was there, in that moment, in that rainforest, sharing space with something so ancient, so rare, so sacred.
I was overwhelmed with happiness. Completely.
🍀 The Last Ones In: A Lucky Escape Before the Rain
As we left the sanctuary, our hearts still full and our voices still hushed, our guide told us something that made the entire experience feel even more special.
We had been the last group allowed into the sanctuary that day.
Shortly after we entered, the staff had decided to close the area due to the increasing rainfall, to protect the tarsiers from stress and disturbance. It hit me in that moment just how lucky we were, by minutes, maybe even seconds, we had made it. We got to see them. We got that unforgettable, emotional experience, and now the tarsiers could rest.
We all looked at each other in the van with these wide smiles, the kind of smiles people share after they’ve witnessed something rare, something magical. We made it. We were part of the quiet few who got in.
Happy, excited, and a little misty-eyed, we settled back into our seats. The rain was still falling lightly, but it felt more soothing now, like nature exhaling.
It was time for our fourth stop: the Loboc River, where we’d be trading our van for a floating restaurant, enjoying a traditional Filipino lunch aboard a river cruise. I had no idea what to expect, but my heart was still floating from the sanctuary.
It was turning out to be a day I would never forget.
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🎶 Floating Joy: Food, Music, and Laughter on the Loboc River
Still buzzing from our tarsier encounter, we all climbed back into the van, animated and glowing. Everyone was talking at once, about their tiny hands, their massive eyes, how unbelievable the experience had been. It felt like we were floating long before we reached the river.
Before we even realized it, we had arrived at our next stop: the Loboc River Cruise.
At this part of the island, the skies had cleared, and the sun was shining with that soft, golden glow that makes everything look like a postcard. We stepped out of the van and followed our guide down toward the water, where a large wooden boat with a thatched roof and long buffet tables waited for us.
There were around 30 people on board, and it didn’t feel crowded, it felt festive. A local band started playing as we found our seats, their music carrying across the still green waters. The sound of laughter, clinking plates, and mellow acoustic guitar set the mood just right.
And then the food arrived, a colorful, delicious spread of traditional Filipino dishes. I didn’t hesitate. I took a little bit of everything: grilled meats, pancit noodles, fresh vegetables, tropical fruits. I even grabbed a local beer to wash it all down.
I took a seat at the corner of the table with the new friends from my group, and we just exhaled together. We ate, we talked, we laughed, completely caught up in the moment. I barely noticed the river at first.
But then I looked up.
And there it was.
The Loboc River, smooth and emerald green, winding peacefully through walls of palm trees and thick jungle. Everything was so lush, so untouched, so still, like we were gliding through a dream. The reflection of the trees danced on the water. Occasionally, we’d pass by locals singing or kids playing along the banks, waving at our boat as we cruised by.
It was one of those moments when life feels full, belly, heart, and soul.
💃 When the River Dances Back: A Moment I’ll Never Forget
As we slowly cruised along the Loboc River, I found myself completely hypnotized by the nature surrounding us. I must’ve taken a hundred pictures, trying to capture the stillness, the lushness, the soft reflection of the jungle in the water, but even my camera couldn’t do it justice.
The trees, the river, the sky, they all looked like they had never been touched. Just pure beauty, the kind that humbles you. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. My heart was full, and I had this permanent, goofy smile on my face that I simply couldn’t erase. You know those moments when you’re just… happy? Not the loud kind. The quiet, deep, soul-level kind. That was this.
Then came the unexpected.
We passed by a wooden dock where a group of local children were singing and dancing, and suddenly, our boat pulled over. The music grew louder, the energy changed. These weren’t just performers, they were storytellers, dancers, little bundles of joy bringing life to the riverbanks.
And then… they invited us to dance with them.
How could I say no?
I rushed off the boat and onto their platform, totally unbothered by the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I was just mimicking their steps, laughing at myself, feeling the beat, and letting my two left feet embarrass me proudly.
They were giggling at me, probably thinking, “Who is this tourist with the wild moves?” But honestly? I didn’t care one bit.
I was dancing.
I was alive.
I was soaking in every second, with my arms open wide to whatever life had in store. No filters, no shame, no holding back.
It was one of those rare, beautiful travel moments that you don’t just remember, you feel it, forever. A moment where you realize that joy doesn't need perfection. It just needs presence.
🌿 Holding on to a Perfect Moment
After dancing like no one was watching (even though everyone definitely was 😄), we returned to the boat, cheeks flushed, hearts full. The band played on as we slowly made our way back down the river, but something had shifted.
I wasn’t taking pictures anymore.
I just sat there, quietly watching the jungle drift by. The trees swaying gently in the breeze. The sun filtering through the leaves. The sound of the water lapping against the boat. It was all so beautifully still.
I was trying to soak in every second, as if I could bottle that feeling and keep it with me forever. That quiet contentment. That “I can’t believe I’m here” moment that every traveler chases. I didn’t want it to end.
When we finally reached the dock, we stepped off the boat slowly, like people waking up from a beautiful dream, and walked toward our van. No one said much. We were all holding something sacred inside us.
Back in the van, the familiar hum of the engine started up, and we were off again, this time toward our final stop of the day: the legendary Chocolate Hills.
My energy was still high, but in a calmer, deeper way. I knew we were about to witness something iconic, something I had seen in books and photos, and now it was real and waiting.
🚐 Stories from the Road: Understanding the Heart of the Philippines
The ride to the Chocolate Hills was the longest stretch of the day, over an hour winding through the lush, rural heart of Bohol. But it wasn’t boring, not even for a second.
Our guide, who had already been so warm and knowledgeable, used this time not just to fill the silence, but to open a window into the soul of the Philippines.
She told us stories. Real ones. Honest ones.
She spoke about the Filipino way of life, about how families live together, how children are raised with deep respect for elders, how faith plays a central role in daily life. She talked about their schools, their Sunday church rituals, how even with little, people here live with big smiles and strong hearts.
She even told us about something unexpected: cockfighting, known locally as “sabong.” As strange as it sounded to me, it was interesting to learn how deeply rooted it is in tradition, especially in rural areas. It wasn’t just gambling or entertainment, it was wrapped in community, pride, and custom.
Then her tone shifted as she spoke about the many Filipinos who leave their homeland in search of work abroad, sacrificing time with their families so they can send money home. She told us about their dreams, their struggles, and the emotional cost of building a better life from far away.
I sat by the window, listening carefully.
I wasn’t just sightseeing anymore. I was learning, feeling, understanding.
There’s something so powerful about hearing a place’s story from someone who lives it every day. It reminded me that travel is about connection, not just checking things off a list. It’s about listening. About seeing beyond the photos.
I appreciated her openness, her honesty, and I carried her words with me as we finally neared our last stop.
The hills were waiting.
🍫 A View Like No Other: Standing Among the Chocolate Hills
When we finally pulled into the Chocolate Hills complex, I didn’t know what to expect. I’d seen photos, sure, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what was waiting at the top.
Our guide gave us quick instructions: “You’ll have 20 minutes, go up the stairs, head to the viewing deck. Trust me, it’s worth it.”
I looked up at the sun-drenched staircase, heart already pounding, and took off.
It was hot. Really hot. The kind of heat that sticks to your skin and slows your steps. But I didn’t care. I was racing the clock, not just to make it to the top, but to make this moment count.
When I finally reached the viewing platform, I stopped in my tracks.
And then I turned.
And turned again.
I was completely surrounded.
Everywhere I looked, there they were, these perfectly rounded, grass-covered hills stretching out like a surreal green sea. I must have counted 50 of them, maybe more, rising and falling like waves frozen in time. Each one shaped almost exactly like the next, nature's own little army of chocolate drops scattered across the land.
I was stunned.
I stood there, sweating under the brutal sun, camera in hand, completely in awe. I took photos, of course, but I kept putting the camera down. I didn’t want to just capture the view, I wanted to remember the feeling. The scale. The silence. The wonder.
The Chocolate Hills are more than just a natural phenomenon. They’re a reminder that the world still has secrets. That no matter how many places you go, there’s always something that can take your breath away in an instant.
But 20 minutes go fast when you're in love with a place.
Soon, we were rushing back down the stairs, hopping into the van, heading off to catch our ferry back to Cebu City, a little more sunburnt, a little more tired, but hearts full and spirits glowing.
🌀 Legends of Chocolate Hills & A Quiet Ride Home
Before we left the Chocolate Hills viewpoint, our guide shared something else, something a little more magical.
She told us about the legends the locals believe about how these perfectly formed hills came to be. Some say it was once the battleground of two giants who hurled boulders and stones at each other for days. Eventually, they made peace and left, but the land remained marked by their fierce fight.
Another tale is more romantic, and tragic. A giant named Arogo fell in love with a mortal woman. When she died, his grief was so great that he shed massive tears, which eventually hardened into the rounded hills that now dot the land. A landscape shaped by love and loss.
And then there’s the simplest story: that the Chocolate Hills are the hardened droppings of a giant carabao (water buffalo) who had eaten too many bad crops. The kids love that one.
Whatever the truth is, whether myth, magic, or geology, standing there among them felt like stepping into a storybook. One that lives and breathes in the heart of the Philippines.
We got back to the van just in time. The sun was lower now, the light softer. We had to make it to the port by 5:40 p.m. to catch our ferry back to Cebu City.
We made it.
Boarding the ferry, I settled into my seat for the two-hour ride home, and for the first time all day… everything went still.
We weren’t talking much anymore. Just sitting. Just thinking.
I was looking out the window, not really watching anything, just replaying everything in my head, the dancing kids, the floating lunch, the little tarsiers with the enormous eyes, the round hills that rose like magic from the earth.
When we reached Cebu around 8 p.m., our van was waiting to take us back to our hotels. The day had ended, but the memories? They had just begun.
🌙 Night Markets & Soft Goodbyes
Back in Cebu City, I returned to my hotel with just enough time to take a quick shower, throw on something comfy, and head out once again, this time to the night market I’d fallen in love with the night before.
There’s something about street food after a long day of adventuring, it hits differently. I tried something new for dinner (because how could I not?), and while eating, I found myself making friends with the local cats and dogs, sharing a few bites and a few quiet moments with them under the soft glow of streetlights. It was simple, and it was perfect.
After that, I headed back to my hotel to get some rest, or at least, try to. Because the next adventure? It was starting at 3:00 a.m. Yep, no time to sleep when Cebu is calling.
And let me tell you, there’s a very special reason why I chose to visit Cebu Island in the first place. Bohol was just the beginning.
So, stay tuned, because my next story is one I’ve been waiting to tell.
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