Motorcycle tourism remains a relatively novel concept in the Philippines, despite the prevalence of two-wheeled transport as a mainstay of daily life. Yet, for many, the notion of long-distance motorcycle touring conjures images of large groups of riders thundering through quiet provincial towns, engines roaring at 1,200cc, leaving disruption in their wake.

This perception is not unfounded. Unguided riding groups often organize so-called "fun rides" that quickly turn into informal races. The 2024 BOSS Ironman Motorcycle Challenge, for instance, resulted in numerous accidents, including three fatalities—an incident that did little to enhance the reputation of motorcycle tourism.

Fortunately, a growing movement of responsible riders are championing a more measured and respectful approach. Their philosophy embraces a slower, safer pace, with routes designed to encircle the archipelago at leisure. Along the way, riders pause in remote towns, engaging with locals, sampling regional cuisine, and exploring into the country’s rich history and culture. It is, they believe, a more meaningful way to see the Philippines—on two wheels, but without the recklessness.

Much like Vietnam’s famed Ha Giang Loop, motorcycle touring in the Philippines need not be a group endeavor. The country’s extensive network of highways, inner roads, and expressways—most notably the 3,379-kilometre Pan-Philippine Highway, or Maharlika Highway—offers a largely seamless route linking Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao, with ferry crossings bridging the islands. This infrastructure allows riders to embark on a cross-country journey at their own pace, whether in small groups or, as highlighted in our feature, as a couple sharing a single motorcycle.

“Adventure awaits,” as the adage goes. For long-time couple Ramir and Gelyka, however, a great adventure is already knocking. Even amid the flurry of wedding preparations (they tied the knot this month), the pair found time to map out the journey of a lifetime, a ride that would take them around the country.

For Gelyka, a seasoned travel writer, exploring the country has long been second nature. With Ramir, a photographer and passionate rider, it seemed only fitting to take their shared love for travel to the next level: a full Philippine Loop.

Their journey, which began on April 14, 2024, in San Mateo, Rizal, and concluded on June 1, spanned 5,335.3 kilometers, covering 23 riding days interspersed with 20 days of rest and exploration.

“We spent a year planning,” Ramir explained. “It started with buying a higher-displacement motorcycle and taking several long rides to familiarize ourselves with the road ahead.”

Preparation for the journey included Ramir undertaking a basic riding course and the couple upgrading their gear to ensure safety, comfort, and convenience. “We had been riding even before the pandemic, using a Kymco Like 150 scooter,” Ramir explained. “But for the Philippine Loop, we knew we’d need a motorcycle with a higher displacement, so we ended up choosing the Royal Enfield Himalayan 411”

With Ramir on the handlebar and Gelyka as a back rider, the couple had already clocked hundreds of kilometers on their Kymco Like 150, riding from Rizal to Albay, Benguet, and La Union. But with their sights set on the Philippine Loop, they took their newly acquired Himalayan 411 on a series of test runs—to Bicol, Baler, and Zambales—fine-tuning both machine and mindset before the journey began.

As their Philippine Loop unfolded, it didn’t take long for the couple to hit both the peaks and pitfalls of motorcycle touring. “The weather was the toughest part, especially during our ride from Tuguegarao to Aurora,” Gelyka admits. “Some days, the heat pushed close to 40°C, only to be chased by sudden, unforgiving downpours.”

The challenges stacked up—like the two days they spent recuperating in an Iloilo hotel, downed by a bad serving of taho—but Ramir and Gelyka quickly realized that the magic of the journey far outweighed the struggles. The highs hit harder, the sights felt richer, and the moments they shared became stories worth telling, packed with lessons and revelations they hadn’t anticipated.

Traversing the steep, winding roads of Mountain Province aboard their Himalayan 411, Ramir and Gelyka faced countless horseshoe curves that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. Yet with each turn, they held fast to the belief that something remarkable awaited at the next stop.

“The ride to Tinoc, Ifugao, was easily one of my favorites,” Gelyka reflects. “Reaching the Highest Point of the Philippine Highway System—7,968.07 feet above sea level—was an achievement in itself. But what made it unforgettable was the journey through the vegetable fields and mountain villages of Buguias, Benguet, landscapes I’d only ever seen in photographs.”

From the back of the Himalayan 411, she found herself silently emotional. “It hit me, this was one of those rare moments when a place you’ve always dreamed about suddenly surrounds you, and for a while, the world feels perfectly in tune.”

Asked about their most memorable moments, Gelyka didn’t hesitate. Among the many sights, one stood out: a Palawan cherry blossom (balayong) in full bloom. “Along the skyline route to Quirino, we spotted this beautiful Bolilising tree, its branches bursting with vivid pink flowers,” she recalled. “It was the perfect excuse to get our tired butts off the motorcycle for a quick photo op.”

Soon enough, the couple’s journey was filled with the breathtaking landscapes of the Philippine countryside. By opting for a leisurely pace, Ramir and Gelyka embraced the opportunity to truly experience their surroundings, taking time to "stop and smell the flowers," as the saying goes. This slower rhythm also allowed them to engage with locals, uncovering local culture along the way.

“One of our favorite stops was in South Cotabato, in the town of Lake Sebu,” Gelyka recalls. “It wasn’t part of our original itinerary, but a local we met in General Santos City encouraged us to go.”

Though the ride from General Santos took a couple of hours, the journey through lush forests and rugged mountains was nothing short of surreal. “We stayed at Punta Isla Lake Resort, where we were treated to an incredible view of the lake and a delicious fried tilapia dinner,” Gelyka says. “We also had the privilege of visiting the T’boli Museum, where we spent an afternoon with Datu Bao Baay, learning about the indigenous T’boli culture.”

The following morning, they rose early to witness the water lilies in full bloom before setting off once again on their motorcycle journey to the next destination.

Traveling the Philippines by motorcycle offered Ramir and Gelyka not only sweeping, Instagram-worthy views but also a firsthand education in the country’s rich culture, history, and cuisine. Along the way, they crossed paths with fellow Philippine Loopers—an informal community of riders who, like them, have gone on a loop-trail around the country on two wheels.

“Although we’ve been riding since the pandemic, we’ve never been part of any moto club or riding group. We prefer to keep things intentionally relaxed and slow,” Ramir explains. “When we joined the Philippine Loop, it was a pleasant surprise to meet other loopers on the road. We recognized each other by our distinctive Philippine Loop vests and shirts.”

“Imagine riding from Tuguegarao to Baler, Aurora, on a scorching day, and then encountering another looper heading in the opposite direction,” he continues. “We didn’t stop for a conversation—just a peace sign or a friendly honk. That simple gesture was enough to remind us we weren’t alone on the road, and it was exactly what we needed to keep going.”

There is also instances when the duo would encounter fellow Philippine Loopers in times of distress as Ramir recalls one incident “On a quick side trip from Pagudpud to the Bangui Windmills, the road quickly shifted from paved to soft sand. We lost traction, fell, and briefly lost control. Thankfully, a group of nearby Philippine Loopers came to our aid, lifting the bike and ensuring we were okay. We continued on to the windmills as if nothing had happened—just some dusty pants and boots.”

In Cotabato City, Ramir and Gelyka found themselves welcomed by a small group of Philippine Loopers who offered to show them around and share the best way to experience the city. "It was a wonderful feeling to feel safe and welcomed in a place so far from home," Ramir remarked, reflecting on the unexpected camaraderie that made the experience all the more special.

For those planning a Philippine Loop adventure, Ramir and Gelyka offer a few key pieces of advice beyond ensuring you have the proper motorcycle and gear. First and foremost, stay hydrated. "Make quick stops, especially under the intense sun, and drink fresh buko juice whenever you can," they suggest, noting the refreshing alternative to soft drinks. Gear is also crucial—investing in protective riding equipment ensures safety for the unexpected moments that may arise on the road.

Stretching before each ride is another must-do. "A few minutes of stretching and breathing exercises can loosen muscles, release tension, and reduce the risk of cramps," says Gelyka. They also recommend staying active during rest days by walking to prevent stiffness. When it comes to the ride itself, don’t ride on an empty stomach. "Lack of food can lead to irritability and poor decision-making," Ramir warns, emphasizing the importance of a balanced meal beforehand.

Pacing is key, too. The couple advises against rushing as they shared speeding up to only 60-70 kph maximum. "Speed increases the risk of accidents and can cloud judgment," Ramir explains. The Philippine Loop is about the journey, not the race. Lastly, always double-check your route. While Google Maps is helpful, it’s important to verify directions the night before and consider alternate paths.

Ramir and Gelyka prefer main highways over bypass roads, not only for convenience but for better access to motorcycle services should problems arise and a glimpse into local life.

Ramir emphasized the importance of understanding basic troubleshooting for your bike. “Familiarize yourself with common issues and have a contact for virtual assistance in case of emergencies. It's also wise to identify nearby repair shops along your route,” he advised.

The couple also underscored the need for rest days. Riding nonstop can be taxing, so they recommend carving out time to recharge. “Take a day off from riding, enjoy a leisurely walking tour, or simply relax in your hotel room,” Ramir suggests. “Don’t rush through your itinerary, allow for flexibility, errands, and downtime to ensure a more enjoyable and manageable journey.”

Engaging with locals, Gelyka notes, adds another enriching aspect to the experience. “Conversations with people you meet often lead to valuable recommendations,” she said. One memorable suggestion came from a gasoline station attendant in Gumaca, who pointed them to a nearby bakeshop known for its must-try tuna melt pandesal. These unplanned interactions, they found, often resulted in some of the most rewarding moments of the trip.

For Ramir and Gelyka, their Philippine Loop experience was more than just a continuous slideshow of stunning landscapes, vibrant culture, and new culinary delights—it was also an opportunity to probe deeper into their relationship and learn more about each other in ways only travel can reveal.

"As a couple who’s traveled together for over a decade, we’re pretty in sync when it comes to teamwork on the road," says Gelyka. But the loop pushed them to new levels of patience and understanding. "This trip really helped us see each other’s strengths and weaknesses more clearly," Ramir reflects.

While he took the reins on navigation and route planning, Gelyka managed the logistical side: booking accommodation, finding places to eat, and handling ferry tickets, gas stations, and laundry.

The couple admits that their North Luzon leg wasn’t without its challenges. "We had a few misunderstandings with navigation that led us off course—definitely not ideal under the scorching sun," says Ramir. But the experience was a lesson in adaptability. "By the time we reached VisMin (Visayas and Mindanao), we were determined to do things better," Gelyka adds.

After taking a week-long break at home, they returned to the road with a renewed sense of purpose. "We made sure to check in with each other, discussing what worked and what didn’t, always trying to improve with each new leg of the journey."

After passing through a total of 45 provinces and spending approximately 120,000 pesos on food, gas, accommodations, ferry fares, and various tourist activities, Ramir and Gelyka's 43-day journey—including a week of rest after the Northern Luzon leg, finally drew to a close.

Yet for Gelyka, the conclusion only signals the start of future adventures. "Once you’ve completed the Philippine Loop for the first time, it’s impossible not to return for another ride," she said.

As they sailed on their final ferry ride from Mindoro to Batangas, Gelyka reflects on the emotional moment. "I was a bit emotional, sipping my cup of coffee," she admits. "I couldn’t believe it was over and that tomorrow we’d wake up at home instead of somewhere on the road, gearing up for the next adventure. I was feeling ‘sepanx’, a sense of longing. At that moment, we both knew we’d be back."

Voluntourism, which mixes volunteering and tourism, is rapidly gaining popularity among travelers eager to see the world while doing some good along the way. The concept appeals to those who want to satisfy their wanderlust but also feel the need to make a small difference, whether by teaching in far-flung schools, helping with environmental projects, or assisting in community development efforts.

Over the years, I’ve come across many such groups, and before the pandemic, I even considered joining programs in Thailand and India. In the Philippines, voluntourism has become widespread, with organizations operating in various parts of the country. Naturally, one would expect these groups to base themselves in well-known destinations like Siargao, Camiguin, or the postcard-perfect towns of El Nido and Coron in Palawan.

What I didn’t expect was to find such group basing themselves in Aborlan, an often-overlooked coastal town in Palawan, far from the usual tourist circuits. Yet here, away from the crowded beaches, voluntourism has found a foothold, offering an experience that is both meaningful and off the beaten path. From my four-day exploration around the town, I discovered that there is so much more to see and learn here – things not written in any travel guidebook or shown in any TikTok video.

The Green Lion Philippines is part of a global volunteer organization founded in Thailand in 1998. Known simply as the Green Lion, it has grown over the past two decades to offer community-focused travel programs in more than 40 countries, including the Philippines, with an approach rooted in forging strong local connections.

At Blessie’s Beach Cove Resort on Aborlan’s eastern coast, we met Green Lion volunteers and members of the local community. The festival-winning Tigman Women’s Association welcomed us with a vibrant cultural dance, but it was the voices of volunteers and community leaders that left a lasting impression.

“We don’t just travel and meet people here, watching basketball games, singing karaoke, and enjoying the islands,” said Nathalie, a volunteer from Australia. “We also get to do something about the environment.”

In Aborlan, foreign volunteers work alongside locals to reduce plastic waste by transforming discarded bottles and wrappers into eco-bricks. These bricks are then used for building community projects such as school classrooms, fences, sea walls, and other small but vital infrastructure.

Their efforts go beyond environmental advocacy. Volunteers also teach local Palaweño children to improve their English skills and assist in basic healthcare, while promoting cultural exchange through everyday interactions within the community.

“They inspire us because we see them picking up plastic trash themselves,” said Mabel Palces, president of the Tigman Women’s Association. “Now, even local kids are doing the same because we see how it can be used to build something.”

Coincidentally with our visit is the Rakudan Festival. Held annually, the festival takes its name from the Palawano language, meaning “gathering in an agreed place,” underscoring the importance of community participation. Typically celebrated in June, the event features a range of activities, including a float parade and the parada ng mga lechon, which remains one of its most anticipated highlights.

The parada ng mga lechon is more than just a festive display of golden roasted pigs; it is loosely tied to the town’s origin story. As the story goes, an American during the colonial era stumbled upon what is now Aborlan and after spotting several wild pigs roaming freely, shouted, “A boar land.”

At Hidden Grace Farm in Aborlan, we met with local artists to learn about their craft. Aljed Gonzales wrote my name using Surat et Tagbanwa, the ancient Palawan script once used by the province’s earliest settlers.

Nearby, an artist known as “Rasjeh” showed us his rubber cut artworks, a craft he learned from Cordilleran mentor Charles Wandag. I was instantly drawn to his display and bought one depicting two lovers.

In Barangay Culandanum, we met the Culandanum Handicrafts organization, composed of Tagbanua artisans who create handmade baskets and bags using rattan and pandan.

Beyond shores, Aborlan holds its potential in educational immersion in agriculture. At Rooted Coffee Farm, a project focuses on the “three Cs”: coffee, cacao, and coconut, reviving a family legacy of Liberica and Robusta cultivation.

At Western Philippines University, the Paraoakan Project focuses on the native native Paraoakan chicken, while the Ethnos Farm and Training Center preserves the heritage of the Tagbanua, Palaw’an, and Batak groups.

At Tangod Falls, members of the Tagbanua community welcome guests with cultural performances and a playful demonstration of turumpo, their unique take on the traditional Filipino spinning top game.

It is perhaps this sense of genuineness that has drawn volunteer groups such as the Green Lion to establish their base here. Local cuisine is equally compelling, from Palawan’s version of chao long to roasted lechon and the kebabs at Green Mango Guest House.

Though Aborlan may not cater to tourists in search of island-hopping adventures, it holds promise for a niche market of travelers seeking educational tours and deeper connections with the land and its people.

In the final days of his term, Mayor Al David Uy stood with us beside a shaded column of the Island Garden City of Samal City Hall’s new parking bay, a structure that, under any setting, might appear ordinary. But here, its rooftop holds more than 1,000 solar panels.

“We’re known as an eco-tourism destination,” he said. “Yet it’s embarrassing to admit that we still rely on a diesel power plant.”

Samal’s situation is one familiar to many Philippine islands; blessed with natural beauty and abundant sunshine yet troubled by an outdated energy infrastructure. Until a decade ago, Samal drew its electricity from a submarine cable connected to the Davao mainland. That was before a ship’s anchor severed the line, plunging the island into years of rotating blackouts, unkept promises, and delayed progress.

Now, with a diesel plant supplying less than ideal power supply into an island aspiring for sustainability, the city government has decided to take its energy future into its own hands.

Earlier this year, the city inaugurated the 50-million-peso Samal Renewable Energy Project, transforming the roof of its new 190-car municipal parking building into a solar farm. The project, financed by a Landbank loan and implemented by Greenergy Development Corporation, came not as a grand ribbon-cutting event, but as a necessity that is long overdue.

The system was built with over a thousand solar modules rated at 450 watts each, now powers the entire city hall, covering its daily 250-kilowatt demand and generating up to 450 kilowatts on a clear day. In just the first three weeks after its transition in May, the city had already saved more than 200,000 pesos in electricity costs. “That number grows every month,” Mayor Uy said.

City Engineer Matthew Arig believes the return on investment will take just seven to ten years. The grid-tied system, supported by a 500 KVA inverter, allows Samal to feed excess energy into the public market and other government buildings or even sell it back to the traditional grid power company.

Samal’s experiment with solar is not the first on the island. The Department of Education’s data center made the shift back in 2021, after its servers suffered repeated shutdowns during brownouts. “The rotating brownouts and the birds nesting on lines used to trip the system,” said Kevin Milo, the Schools Division’s IT officer. “Now, we run on a hybrid system. We are even looking to expand.”

Their 5.5-kilowatt hybrid system, part off-grid, part tied to the utility, now ensures uninterrupted power to critical education infrastructure. It’s a small win, but a sign of bigger things to come in Mindanao.

Even as Luzon and the Visayas slowly move forward with energy development, Mindanao still lags behind in generation capacity. Power supply is unsteady. Diesel, expensive and dirty, remains the fallback for many islands and isolated towns.

But advocacy groups like Mindanao Goes Solar are shifting that narrative. Backed initially by the European Climate Foundation, the group, the advocacy arm of Cagayan de Oro-based Professional Organizers Unlimited Inc., has become a leading advocate in the renewable energy industry. Their annual Solar Expo, partnerships with local government units, and efforts to connect solar firms with underserved communities have laid the groundwork for a solar ecosystem in the region.

“Solar is abundant in the Philippines. And now it’s the cheapest source of energy, not just here, but in most parts of the world,” said Philline Donggay, the group’s project head. “It’s the most logical solution to kickstart Mindanao’s energy transition.”

Their early mapping studies identified bottlenecks: disjointed policies, lack of provider trust, and scarce access to financing. Despite the difficulty in opening the minds of many to the advantages of renewable energy, the payoff is clear: energy independence, cleaner air, and long-term savings.

“The theory of change,” Donggay explained, “that Mindanao Goes Solar becomes the primary communicator and knowledge-sharing innovator for solar-related information in Mindanao.”

For places like Siquijor and Palawan, both heavily dependent on costly and polluting energy imports, Samal’s rooftop transformation offers a working model. Even Samal’s beachfront resorts including Pearl Farm and Discovery Samal are taking notice, and are now considering solar integration not only for sustainability, but also for operational reliability.

And there are broader implications. Net metering policies, where excess power can be sold back to the grid, make grid-tied solar systems particularly viable for government buildings and commercial establishments alike. They also require less upfront equipment compared to off-grid solutions, making them more accessible in a region where funding for solar energy is often tight.

As the sun sets, Samal’s solar panels take in the last light of the day. It's an image mirroring the hope of many in Mindanao: that the island’s brightest days may still lie ahead.

From government offices to classrooms, from advocacy desks to the rooftops of parking buildings, a transformation is underway. One that’s not just about power, but about empowerment. Mindanao isn’t there yet. But it’s getting closer. Panel by panel. Roof by roof. Island by island.

Mindanao Goes Solar welcomes collaborators from all sectors. For partnership opportunities or to share your ideas, contact them at secretariat@mindanaogoessolar.org.