Category: tour

How to Be a Regular in a Place You’ve Never Been Before

There’s a certain kind of happiness only travel can give. 

The kind that fills your lungs with salt air and your soul with wide-open wonder. It’s in the laughter shared with strangers who feel like old friends. It’s in the smell of grilled fish curling through a beachside alley, or the way the ocean greets you like it’s been waiting all along. To be a “regular” in a place you’ve never been is about how deeply you feel when you arrive. How quickly you say yes to the unfamiliar. How bravely you fall in love with moments you’ll never forget.

But what if you’ve never been to the place before?

The good news is: You don’t have to be born somewhere to belong. The best travelers aren’t the ones who visit the most countries, but the ones who blend into a place with care, respect, and presence. So here’s your gentle guide on how to become a “regular”, even if you’re new to the island.

Slow Down First

Being a regular starts with being present. You can’t rush your way into familiarity.

Take the long walk instead of the trike ride. Sit by the same sari-sari store every morning. Let yourself settle into the rhythm of the place.

When you stop trying to conquer a place like a checklist, and start living in it like a chapter. You’ll notice how quickly it opens up to you.

Return to the Same Spots

Yes, it’s tempting to try every bar, every cafe, every breakfast spot. But if you want to feel like a local, pick a few favorite places, and keep coming back.

That fruit stand with the sweetest mangoes. That corner table at the beach bar. That tiny bakery in Boracay that smells like childhood.

Familiarity breeds connection. When the vendor recognizes your face and remembers how you like your pan de coco, that’s when you stop being a stranger.

Learn the Names (and Use Them)

Names are powerful. When you remember someone’s name, you’re telling them, “I see you.”

Ask for names. Remember the kuya who drives the tricycle every afternoon. The ate who serves you halo-halo with a smile. The dog by the surf shack who always rolls over for belly rubs? Give him a name too.

And don’t forget to introduce yourself, too. You’re not just a guest. You’re a neighbor—if only for a little while.

Offer to Help, Not Just Take

The world doesn’t owe us experiences, we co-create them. So instead of just asking, “Where’s the best spot?” ask, “How can I support this place?”

Buy local. Tip generously. Carry a reusable water bottle. Volunteer for a beach cleanup if there’s one happening. Even the smallest gesture adds up, and locals feel the difference between someone who’s consuming the place and someone who’s contributing to it.

Your presence can either leave a footprint or plant a seed.

Create a Ritual

Rituals create roots. Something you do every day or every other day, something that becomes yours in space.

Maybe it’s a morning swim before the tourists arrive. A sunset beer with the same bartender. A walk to the lighthouse with your journal and no phone.

Your ritual just has to be true. Eventually, the people around you will start to recognize it too. You’ll become that person who always does that thing. And that’s the essence of becoming a regular.

Speak with Curiosity, Not Authority

You might have Googled the island. You may know where the top-rated restaurant is. But a real regular doesn’t show up as an expert—they show up as a student.

Ask questions. Stay curious. Accept that you don’t know the best lumpia in town until someone’s lola invites you into her backyard to try hers.

Let yourself be taught, and you’ll earn something more meaningful than a five-star review, you’ll be trusted.

Leave Room to Come Back

Being a regular is also about returning. It doesn’t mean living in one place forever—it means being remembered when you come back.

Leave something behind. A thank you note. A favorite book. A promise to visit again. When you return to that café a year later and someone says, “You came back!”—that’s when you know you did it right.

You didn’t just pass through. You were here.

You Belong Where You Are Kind

To be a regular is about how you showed up.

Here in El Nido, Siargao, and Boracay, we’ve seen travelers come and go. But the ones we remember? They’re the ones who smiled back. Who helped carry a cooler. Who danced barefoot even when they didn’t know the steps.

They’re the ones who made the islands feel just a little more alive.

So, wherever you land, take off your shoes, look people in the eye, and live like you’re already home.

Welcome to the islands.

Welcome to Happiness. 

You know the drill: land on a beautiful island, snap a few shots of the beach, buy a souvenir keychain, maybe try the famous local dish, and just like that, you’re gone. But what if your trip could be more than just a slideshow of pretty views?

What if, instead of only taking photos, you took part?

What if, even in your short stay, you left a small, meaningful footprint that said: “I was here, and I saw you”?

Here are some soulful, fun, and genuinely easy ways to immerse yourself in local culture when you only have a few days but want to travel like you truly care.

Learn 3 Local Words and Actually Use Them

You don’t need to be fluent to connect. Sometimes, a simple “Salamat!” (Thank you) or “Ganda ng lugar n’yo” (Your place is beautiful) is enough to light up someone’s day. In El Nido, try saying “Magandang umaga po” (Good morning, respectfully) to your boatman. In Siargao, “Lami kaayo!” (Super delicious in Bisaya) will score you big points with your eatery tita.

It’s not just language, it’s respect. It’s saying, “I see you. I’m not just passing through.”

Eat Where the Locals Eat

Skip the trendy imported franchise (you’ll survive without it!) and follow the aroma of freshly grilled fish or the sizzle of tusok-tusok. That carinderia in Siargao might serve the best adobo you’ll ever try. That ihawan in Boracay? It’s where the real magic lives, where recipes are remembered.

These food spots are often run by families who’ve cooked for generations. When you eat there, you’re joining a legacy.

Show Up for the Traditions

Is there a barangay fiesta happening while you’re in town? A mural being painted? A beach clean-up? A market day?

Show up.

Even if you don’t understand every word of the program, your presence means something. Culture is alive. And when you show up with sincerity (and maybe a paper plate of pancit), you’re no longer a visitor. You’re a participant.

Support Local Artists & Makers

Sure, that souvenir shop by the port has the same shell keychains and printed tank tops you’ll find everywhere. But in the quieter alleys or the weekend pop-ups, you might find handwoven bags, coconut shell earrings, or banana paper journals made by local creatives.

In El Nido, artists craft jewelry from island stones and recycled brass. In Siargao, there’s a young couple printing surf-inspired shirts that tell stories of the sea. In Boracay, you’ll find lola-made embroidered pouches that support weaving communities in Aklan.

When you buy something crafted by local hands, you carry a piece of the place with you and your pesos go further than you think.

Listen More Than You Speak

This one’s easy but powerful.

Ask your van driver how he started his job. Ask the vendor how they learned to make those peanut brittle jars. Ask your massage therapist about her favorite local beach. Ask permission before taking a photo of someone.

And then, just listen.

You’ll learn more about the Philippines from a 10-minute conversation with a local than from an entire guidebook.

Show Up for the Traditions

Is there a barangay fiesta happening while you’re in town? A mural being painted? A beach clean-up? A market day?

Show up.

Even if you don’t understand every word of the program, your presence means something. Culture is alive. And when you show up with sincerity (and maybe a paper plate of pancit), you’re no longer a visitor. You’re a participant.

Respect the Daily Rhythm

Sometimes, culture is not a festival or a museum, but people living their lives.

When you’re in the islands, try to move a little slower. Be gentle with your noise. Avoid being pushy with your timelines. Let the day unfold.

In places like El Nido and Siargao, you’ll notice people stop to watch the sunset, close shops for merienda, or take time to greet one another. That’s the rhythm. Don’t fight it. Feel it.

Leave It Better Than You Found It

Bring your own water bottle. Say no to plastic. Pack out what you bring in. These are cultural respects. In communities that rely on nature for livelihood, protecting the environment is a shared value.

In Siargao, when you join locals in picking up beach litter after a surf session, you’re showing love for the same waves they call home. In El Nido, when you reuse a tote instead of asking for a bag, you’re helping protect the same sea turtles the fishermen see every morning.

Ask Before You Snap

Photography is a beautiful way to remember a place. But remember: people aren’t props.

Always ask before taking photos of locals, especially children, elders, or workers in their element. If you’re shooting in a public market or small community, a smile and a “Pwede po mag-picture?” (Can I take a photo?) goes a long way.

Even better? Send them the photo if you can. You might just make someone’s day.

Take Home Stories, Not Just Stuff

When you return home, share the name of the hostel you stayed at that’s run by a young local couple. Post about the food cart lady who made the best lumpia you’ve ever had. Talk about the surf instructor who told you about Siargao’s rebuilding after the typhoon.

These stories are part of the culture, too. When you pass them on, you help rewrite the narrative—away from “cheap beach destination” to “beautiful community worth preserving.”

Stay Somewhere That Honors the Culture

Where you stay matters. Choose accommodations that hire locals, feature native design, and contribute to the neighborhood. Choose places that treat their team like family, that source from within the island, and that give back—quietly, consistently.

Places like Happiness do exactly that.

From El Nido to Siargao and Boracay, we exist not just to give you a bed to sleep in, but to help you feel at home. Our spaces are woven with stories, built with love, and made to connect you to the real heartbeat of the island, not just the highlight reel.

So yes, take the photos. The sunsets are too good not to. But while you’re at it…

Talk to someone.

Buy a bar of soap from lola.

Say “salamat po.”

Join the clean-up.

Eat the silog.

Move slow.

Listen more.

Connect.

And when you’re ready to stay with heart and meaning, you know where to find us.

📍 Happiness El Nido, Siargao, Boracay

Book a stay. Join the story. Let the islands change you.

How Small Purchases Make a Big Impact in the Island

Tourism is one of the top sources of livelihood in island provinces like Palawan, Aklan, and Surigao del Norte. But most of the economy isn’t driven by five-star resorts or large corporations. It’s small-scale sellers, craftspeople, fishermen, cooks, and local service providers who carry the weight of day-to-day survival.

In places like El Nido, the woman selling handmade buri hats outside the tricycle terminal might be supporting three generations under one roof. In Siargao, a family that started drying fish by the shoreline now bottles their own artisan bagoong and delivers it around town by bicycle. In Boracay, a tiny shop tucked into a back alley may be the only place left still selling hand-embroidered “barong” shirts made by artisans from nearby Aklan.

Every 150-peso purchase can mean something. Groceries for the day, or materials for the next set of handmade items.

THE SHIFT FROM TOURISTY TO THOUGHTFUL IN BORACAY

If you’ve been to Boracay in the last few years, you’ve probably noticed two things: it’s still as beautiful as ever, and it’s fighting hard to preserve that beauty. After its 2018 rehabilitation, the island began a slow but meaningful transformation.

Many businesses shifted toward sustainability. Local brands emerged selling bamboo toothbrushes, reusable water jugs, and upcycled beachwear. But these efforts thrive only if travelers choose them.

One great example? The Boracay Talipapa. It’s a microcosm of the island’s supply chain. Local fishermen, vegetable farmers, artisanal sauce makers, and grill masters all work hand in hand here. When you choose to dine at one of these humble, family-run stalls instead of a large chain restaurant, you’re directly contributing to a network of real people who rely on that purchase to keep their livelihoods afloat.

Even the smallest vendor inside the talipapa has a story. Every meal here tastes better because it’s seasoned with effort, legacy, and hope.

SIARGAO WHERE EVERY PESO BUILDS A DREAM

In Siargao, the surf may steal the spotlight, but the island’s beating heart lies in its people. With the rise of eco-conscious travelers and digital nomads, small enterprises have blossomed.

Take, for example, the woman who sells handmade earrings using driftwood and sea glass she collects on early morning beach walks. Or the crew behind a start-up café that sources beans from Mindanao farmers and reinvests a portion of its profits into school supplies for local kids.

Even more inspiring are the younger locals who’ve returned home to Siargao, choosing to stay and build instead of leaving for big cities. When you support their businesses, even with a simple coconut coffee or a keychain, you’re voting for their vision of a thriving, sustainable hometown.

CRAFTED BY HAND, SHARED IN THE HEART OF EL NIDO

El Nido has long been a poster child for Philippine paradise, but beyond the towering cliffs and turquoise waters lies a vibrant community of creators and changemakers.

Look beyond the beach and you’ll find hidden workshops where local woodworkers shape furniture using sustainably sourced materials. You’ll meet young mothers crafting abaca bags while watching their kids play nearby. You’ll find small wellness brands using traditional herbs in

 their handmade soaps and oils.

And if you take time to visit the local market, you’ll see just how tightly knit El Nido’s daily economy is. Fishermen trade their catch with vegetable growers. A taho vendor shares his spot with a fruit seller. There’s a rhythm here, a quiet symphony of cooperation that powers the town behind the scenes.

Every peso you spend here, when spent thoughtfully, sustains this symphony. And when you finally leave, we hope what you carry isn’t just a woven bag or a bottle of local oil.

We hope you take home the memory of laughter over breakfast with your homestay host. That gentle rhythm of island life where everyone knows each other, and your small choices echo across shorelines and sari-sari stores.

So if you’re planning your trip to the Philippines, remember: luxury is about making choices that feel good and do good, too. And if you want a place that reflects that, come find your little corner of joy with us.

Happiness is the promise we make, to our guests, our team, and the islands we call home.

We’ll be waiting. With stories to share, slippers by the door, and a whole lot of sunshine. 

Island First, Tourist Second: Why Embracing Local Routines Is the New Travel Luxury 

There was a time when travel was all about the checklist, famous spots, trendy restos, a few Instagrammable sunsets. But lately, something is shifting. More and more travelers are realizing that the most meaningful experiences don’t come from a pre-packaged tour or a perfectly staged photo, but from pausing long enough to understand the rhythm of a place. And in the Philippines, that rhythm is slow, sun-drenched, deeply human, and almost always tied to the sea.

Welcome to a new kind of travel luxury. 

This is about adjusting your pace, softening your footprint, and leaning into the daily life of the locals whose home you’re visiting. It’s about seeing Boracay, Siargao, or El Nido not just as destinations, but as living communities.

The Boracay Mornings You Don’t See on Postcards

If you wake up early in Boracay, before the sun is high and the beach clubs switch on their sound systems, you’ll see a different kind of beauty. Locals walking their dogs. Fishermen mending nets. Small carinderias opening up, the smell of sinangag drifting out to the street. These quiet, simple rituals are what give the island its soul.

Instead of heading straight to the White Beach strip, maybe grab a taho from a street vendor and find a quiet spot near Station 3. Sit. Observe. Smile at people. You’re not just a guest here,  for this moment, you’re part of the morning.

Siargao’s Community Before Convenience

Siargao may be known worldwide for Cloud 9 and its surf scene, but ask anyone who lives there and they’ll tell you: What makes Siargao magical isn’t just the waves. It’s the community.

Locals share tools, pass down surfboards, and help each other rebuild after storms. Businesses collaborate more than they compete. Even the kids know who you are after a few days. If you stay long enough, you’ll be invited to a local birthday party or a sunset volleyball game that just kind of happens.

The luxury here is in being known by name at the sari-sari store.

The Slow Magic of El Nido Afternoons

In El Nido, the best time of day isn’t sunrise or sunset. It’s that sweet lull in the afternoon when the breeze settles, tricycle traffic slows, and everything takes a breath.

Locals take siestas, or quietly prepare dinner with neighbors. Kids chase each other barefoot on narrow roads lined with bougainvillea. This is a place where time doesn’t run on the clock, it runs on connection. The rhythm is softer.

Spend a week here and you’ll realize: it’s not about squeezing in as many island tours as you can. It’s about learning to move with the town, not ahead of it.

A Few Soft Reminders

Being an island-first traveler means asking yourself a few gentle questions:

Have I supported a local today? Maybe by buying snacks at the market, joining a community tour, or tipping fairly?

Am I dressing with respect? Especially in more rural or sacred spaces?

Am I speaking kindly, even when I’m confused or things go wrong?

Am I leaving space for locals in places we share, like beaches, cafes, or surf spots?

You don’t have to be perfect. But a little awareness goes a long way in making tourism a gift rather than a burden.