I don’t remember exactly when it started — that itch. That subtle, restless twitch in my travel heart. Maybe it was somewhere between my 30th smoothie bowl in Canggu and the fifth time I bumped into the same Aussie guy in a hostel in Ubud. Don’t get me wrong — I love Bali. But it had started to feel like a Netflix series that used to be exciting, and now just keeps going because you already pressed play years ago.
So I did something unexpected. I booked a ferry to a country I only knew from blurry Facebook photos of white beaches: the Philippines. No plan, no route, no expectations. Just an open ticket and an open heart.
First stop: chaos. And that was good.
Most backpackers land in Manila and rush to get out. I get it. But still — those first few days in the middle of it all, between jeepneys, karaoke, and coconut vendors, felt like a wake-up call. This was different. No streamlined tourist machine, but a country with character, contrast, and chaos. I loved it.
Then came Palawan.
I was on my way to El Nido — you know, the tropical Pinterest dream with limestone cliffs and glittering lagoons. But somewhere along the road, I heard whispers about a little town where life moved slower. A place with no ATMs, where the electricity sometimes didn’t kick in until 6PM. Port Barton.
I took a detour. And that tiny detour changed everything. It’s the reason why I skipped Bali for Palawan — and never looked back.
Port Barton: the Bali that never sold out.
Imagine a place where you wake up to the sound of waves, sip coffee with sand between your toes, and time just kind of… dissolves. Where locals and backpackers still actually talk to each other instead of just coexisting.
That’s what I found here. That raw, real, simple vibe that made me fall in love with traveling in the first place. No curated digital nomad hubs, just a handful of huts, a dozen dogs, and nights full of stars and stories.
And yes — these days, there’s fast mobile internet and ATMs too. So no, you’re not entirely off the grid. But you’re just far enough to feel something special again.
Why you should consider Palawan (and Port Barton)
If you’re like me — burned out on the beaten path, craving something less polished and more real — this is your sign.
Thailand, Vietnam, Bali? I’ve loved them all. But this is why I skipped Bali for Palawan: because here, conversations stretch longer than your screen time, and days flow without deadlines.
Palawan doesn’t just look like paradise — it feels like presence.
Let’s put it this way: If Southeast Asia is one big party, then Palawan is the campfire after the party. The place where you have the conversations that stick with you. Where you don’t just meet people — you meet yourself again.
Next time, I’ll tell you exactly what makes Palawan so special. (Spoiler: it’s not just the beaches.)
Ready to feel it for yourself?
If Port Barton’s been whispering your name while reading this, maybe it’s time to follow the signal.
Check out the accomodations and consider staying at Tentstar Eco Resort — the place I now call home between my backpacking chapters.
Trust me, this might just be your favorite detour yet.
Until then,
Kai
“Lost enough to know where I belong.”
