A sleepless love letter to El Nido
Dear El Nido,
Confession first: Palawan is enormous. There’s Puerto Princesa, Port Barton, San Vicente, Balabac—more coastline than most people realize. But in my circle, two names always came up before the rest: Coron and El Nido.
I had only really been to one of them. I never claimed to know El Nido. I just let people assume they were interchangeable, two names for the same kind of trip. This was my chance to find out. I said yes before I checked the details, which turned out to be a 4:40 a.m. flight out of Clark, which meant leaving our meeting point in Quezon City at midnight with a full day of no sleep already behind us.
Nobody complained. None of us wanted to trade an hour of sleep for an hour less on the island. I had spent years recommending Palawan to friends without ever really knowing this part of it.
It is easy to say you love the Philippines from home in Manila. It is harder to feel it when the loudest conversations around you are about politics and traffic.
This trip pulled me out of that. It reminded me how much of this country is still worth seeing for myself, not through someone else’s post. I came home to the same traffic and the same noise. But I came home loving this country differently because I had finally seen more of it instead of only talking about it.
We landed and I gasped out loud at the airport. Green mountains everywhere. The breeze moved through all that open space. I forgot my exhaustion, if only for a moment.
By 7:30 a.m., we checked into Lime El Nido, our home base for most of the trip. The staff was warm from the start. Our Premier Suite was spacious, bright, and clean, with a view of the ocean. From the balcony, I watched dogs playing in the water below. It was a heartwarming sight.
The property sits close to the airport and near enough to the main attractions that getting anywhere was never a hassle. The tour that followed included a Sky Lounge with a view over the beach and a karaoke room for anyone with energy left after that flight.
By noon we were at Angkla for lunch, and this stop was wonderful. The food justified the visit on its own: kare-kare, sisig, fried chicken, a good salad, nachos, and coconut juice served straight out of a coconut roughly the size of my head.
The rooms were also beautiful and sat right by the beach. The whole property smelled incredible, so I asked the manager what it was. The scent turned out to be an in-house blend, and no amount of asking got me the recipe. I left obsessed and denied.
Angkla struck me as the kind of place built for an intimate wedding, small guest list, ocean right there, and great energy.
We had free time back at Lime before sunset yoga on the roof deck. I used it to get one of the best naps of my life, then joined the group upstairs. That stretch felt different with the ocean right in front of us. It is hard not to feel grateful looking at something that beautiful.
Dinner was at Chabacano by Panorama. The paella arrived massive, adobo and vegetable, after what must have been a long time on the fire. The rice was crisp at the bottom and soft on top, mixed through with everything good. I am still thinking about it as I write this. We went at night, so the famous Bacuit Bay view was not visible, but a steady breeze moved through the whole dinner and made up for it. A heads up for anyone visiting: the drinks lean sour across the board. Refreshing, but know that going in.
We closed the night at Pangolin El Nido, easily the best music of any bar we passed. Owner Enzo Luna personally made drinks for the non-drinkers at our table. Mine was pineapple-forward, and as he explained how he built it, it was clear he had given it the same thought he gives anything alcoholic on his menu.
Somewhere close to midnight, a day and a half into barely any sleep, I was glad I had napped whenever I could that day. It meant I had the energy to actually enjoy the night.
Day two was spent on the water. Señorita Travels ran the boats, and the crew handled everything. The guides spoke fluent English and explained each stop as we went, which is worth knowing if you are bringing foreign friends who want to understand what they are looking at. A drone followed us from above, kayaks were at the ready, and the snacks never ran out. We snorkeled, swam, and spent the whole morning with salt in the air and open ocean in every direction. It was bliss.
Small Lagoon is the version of El Nido everyone has already seen in photos, and up close, it holds up. We kayaked in through a narrow gap in the limestone, rock walls on both sides, water clear enough to feel like paddling through glass. Entalula Island came next: white sand and cliffs on either side. We snorkeled over the corals, and when it was time to head back to the boat, none of us wanted to go.
We returned to Lime for lunch on the Sky Deck, and this is a meal I have to make sure to have again if I ever find myself back in El Nido. Chicken binacol, ceviche, seafood frito misto, a Cobb salad, baby back ribs, salted egg prawn, and grilled reef fish—plate after plate with the view right there the whole time. The cheesecake, however, I could take or leave.
Late afternoon brought us to Atalaya in Lamoro. The property is built around villas and suites, with a pool that made the case for slowing down after two fast-moving days.
Atalaya runs a drip menu you can have administered while you eat, covering NAD+, marketed for cellular energy and mental clarity, hydration blends for fluids and electrolytes, premium vitamin infusions, and peptides associated with recovery and skin support. None of it sounded necessary until two days without real sleep caught up with my body, so I took advantage and regretted nothing.
Dinner was prepared by chef Bautista, and it needed no wellness pitch. It was simply good food.
Our last morning was at Isla Amara, right on Lio Beach, close to a few other restaurants on the same stretch of sand. The place is clean, done in earth tones, and the beach right outside is the main draw. Lunch was at Amihan Bistro, buffet style, with the option to eat kamayan.
Yes, we ate our way through this trip. Lunch had barely settled before we sat down to an early dinner, and I have no regrets. We stopped at Kusina ni Maya. Every dish was deeply, properly Filipino. This is where I would take a foreign friend who wants to understand Filipino food, and where I would go myself when I want it done right.
It rained more than once while we were there, and honestly, I did not mind. Every place we stayed was beautiful enough that waiting out a downpour indoors felt like part of the trip, and when it mattered most, the sun came out anyway. On the flight home, I talked for hours with people I had first met at that midnight meeting point. El Nido gives you more than the views. It gives you people, and I came home with a few new friends I am glad to have met.
We were lucky to have Lime El Nido as our base for most of the trip. The rooms were beautiful, the food never missed, and the location made every day easier. Coming back each time felt like part of the reward.
El Nido, I came in thinking you and Coron were the same trip twice. You are not. Coron is mostly about what is underwater: the shipwrecks and the lakes you have to swim into to really see. With you, it is all right there in front of you. The cliffs, the lagoons, the town that stays busy long after the boats come back in.
I get it now—why people argue about which one to visit first. They are both worth it, just for different reasons.
You gave me amazing food and friends I did not have three days earlier. None of that was on the itinerary. You also left me wanting to see more of the Philippines—the same feeling I walked away with after a walking tour in Luneta.
Three days was not enough. I am already planning how to get more time with you.
Until next time,
Jacqueline
