Episode 1 | April 2016 — Chasing Waterfalls in Southern Cebu, Beginning with Aguinid Falls in Samboan

There are two kinds of people who go on summer holidays: those who intend to relax and those who somehow mistake physical exhaustion for recreation. I used to believe I belonged to the first category. Give me a beautiful view, good food, pleasant company, and somewhere comfortable to sit, and I shall consider the occasion a successful holiday. Unfortunately, I have cousins, and having cousins means that perfectly reasonable ideas can develop into adventures involving slippery rocks, flowing rivers, and the unexpected discovery that your legs possess muscles you have never properly acknowledged. Apparently, our family’s definition of summer relaxation includes activities that would make a fitness instructor nod approvingly while I quietly question my life choices. Nevertheless, I have always had a particular weakness for a good adventure, especially when it involves people who have known me long enough to find my complaints entertaining rather than concerning.

Last April, my cousins and I decided to become waterfall chasers. I am not entirely certain when we acquired this ambitious new identity, but somebody must have suggested exploring southern Cebu, and the idea eventually developed into a proper summer adventure. We wanted to discover more of the natural beauty of our province, spend time together, and escape the familiar routines that had occupied so much of our days. It sounded perfectly reasonable during the planning stage, when waterfalls existed mainly as beautiful photographs and the physical requirements of reaching them remained conveniently theoretical. I suppose every adventure begins with a certain amount of optimism. Ours included the belief that travelling somewhere beautiful would automatically make us capable of navigating whatever terrain happened to stand between us and the scenery.

Travelling with my cousins has always been an entertaining experience because we possess the sort of familiarity that allows conversations to move effortlessly from serious subjects to complete nonsense, sometimes within the same sentence. There is rarely any shortage of opinions, particularly when deciding where to go, what to photograph, or whether somebody has brought enough food. I suspect our family could organise an official committee to discuss something as simple as purchasing snacks and still produce several competing proposals. Yet that is part of the pleasure of being together. We have shared enough childhood memories to understand one another’s peculiarities, and our occasional disagreements rarely prevent us from enjoying the adventure. If anything, they give us additional material to laugh about afterwards, when everybody has conveniently forgotten which person was responsible for the most questionable suggestion.

Our destination was the southern part of Cebu, a region blessed with coastal scenery, mountains, rivers, and waterfalls that deserve far more attention than they sometimes receive. Cebu may be known for its beaches, historical landmarks, and lively city life, but I have always believed its natural beauty extends beyond the familiar destinations featured in travel advertisements. There are places where the landscape seems to have arranged itself without consulting human imagination, producing colours and formations that no carefully decorated tourist attraction could quite reproduce. I have always found it fascinating that somewhere within the same province where we go about our ordinary responsibilities, such beautiful places continue existing whether or not we make the effort to visit them. It seems almost impolite to live so close to them and remain permanently occupied with everything else.

For our first stop, we chose Aguinid Falls in the municipality of Samboan, approximately 150 kilometres from Cebu City. The distance alone was enough to remind us that this would not be an ordinary afternoon outing. Travelling towards the southern end of the province requires patience, but there is something satisfying about leaving familiar surroundings behind and watching the landscape gradually change. Towns appear along the route, stretches of countryside interrupt the more developed areas, and glimpses of the coastline remind us that Cebu’s geography is far more varied than its narrow shape on a map might suggest. I enjoy journeys like this because travelling becomes part of the experience rather than merely the inconvenience preceding it. There is time to observe the surroundings, enjoy the company of the people travelling with us, and entertain the possibility that the destination may be even more beautiful than we imagined.

Aguinid Falls did not disappoint. What makes it particularly interesting is that it is not simply one waterfall descending into a pool where visitors gather for photographs before declaring the adventure complete. It is a multi-tiered waterfall system along the Tangbo River, where water moves through a series of natural rock formations surrounded by greenery. Each section presents a different perspective of the landscape, creating an experience that feels more like exploring several connected natural features than visiting a single attraction. I liked the idea that the beauty of the place revealed itself gradually. It encouraged us to pay attention to the different formations and the way the flowing water had shaped the surroundings, rather than concentrating exclusively on reaching one particular viewpoint.

There was something wonderfully extravagant about nature’s decision to provide several waterfall levels instead of one. Apparently, a single cascade would have been too modest an offering, so the landscape arranged an entire collection and left visitors to discover them. The result was beautiful, although I suspect the human body occasionally questions why such attractions cannot be admired from a convenient viewing platform with comfortable seating. Photographs rarely communicate the amount of concentration required when moving carefully through uneven, wet surroundings. They preserve the impressive scenery and smiling visitors while remaining suspiciously silent about the attention required to navigate the route. I suppose that is the difference between admiring somebody else’s adventure and experiencing one yourself. The photographs show the reward, while the actual journey reminds you that sensible footwear and respect for the environment are considerably more useful than an impressive pose.

As we explored the area, I became particularly interested in the colours and textures surrounding the waterfalls. The movement of the water created a beautiful contrast with the rock formations and vegetation, while the greenery made the entire place feel wonderfully refreshing. There is something captivating about watching water continue its journey through a landscape without appearing concerned about the people admiring it. It follows the natural contours, gathers in different sections, and moves onwards according to the shape of the terrain. I found myself appreciating the fact that the waterfalls were not separate spectacles arranged for our entertainment, but connected parts of one river system. The landscape possessed a kind of continuity that made the experience more interesting the longer I observed it.

Summer in the Philippines has an enthusiasm for heat that occasionally borders on the unreasonable. By April, the sun seems determined to demonstrate its professional competence, and ordinary outdoor activities can become exhausting before the afternoon has properly begun. That is partly why destinations involving water are so appealing during the season. The sight and sound of flowing water, combined with the surrounding greenery, offer a welcome contrast to the warmth and the familiar atmosphere of crowded streets. I have always enjoyed places where nature becomes the main attraction because they encourage a different pace of observation. There are no shop windows demanding attention, no appointments waiting around the corner, and no particular reason to hurry through the scenery merely to complete another item on an itinerary.

I think I needed that change of pace more than I realised. My ordinary days have been occupied with work, responsibilities, and the countless thoughts that accompany planning for the future. I have a tendency to imagine what comes next before I have properly appreciated what is happening now. Even when I am supposed to be relaxing, my mind occasionally begins organising an entirely unnecessary meeting about unfinished tasks, personal ambitions, and circumstances I cannot immediately control. Travelling with my cousins helps interrupt that habit. There is something about being surrounded by beautiful scenery and familiar company that makes the present feel interesting enough to deserve my full attention, even if my ability to remain undistracted lasts only until somebody announces that we should take another photograph.

Naturally, photographs formed an important part of our adventure. I have always enjoyed preserving little moments during travels, particularly when the experience involves family. A photograph allows us to return to a particular afternoon long after the journey has ended, reminding us of the scenery, the company, and occasionally the extraordinary facial expressions we made while attempting to appear naturally attractive. There is something deeply unfair about the difference between how people imagine themselves looking during an outdoor adventure and how they sometimes appear in the photographs afterwards. In our minds, we are graceful explorers effortlessly appreciating nature. In reality, the combination of heat, humidity, and physical activity can produce an appearance suggesting that we have just completed a demanding survival exercise. My hair, in particular, has never shown much interest in cooperating with my travel ambitions.

Nevertheless, I would rather have photographs that make me laugh than return from an enjoyable trip without anything to remind me of the experience. The less polished pictures often preserve details that carefully arranged photographs overlook. An awkward expression, an unexpected laugh, or an unfortunate encounter between one’s hairstyle and the humidity may eventually become the most entertaining reminder of the day. I sometimes think we spend too much time trying to make our memories look attractive when their real value lies in the experience itself. Years from now, my cousins and I may examine these pictures and wonder why we considered certain poses reasonable, but I suspect we will also remember the pleasure of exploring somewhere beautiful together.

That is one of the things I appreciate most about family adventures. My cousins and I share a history that extends beyond any particular journey. We have known one another through different stages of growing up, and our relationships carry memories that newer friends may not fully understand. When we travel together, the experience becomes another addition to that shared history. We discover somewhere new, take photographs, exchange jokes, and eventually return home with another story to recall whenever we gather again. There is comfort in knowing that the people accompanying me already understand much of my personality, including the less impressive habits I might prefer to conceal from the general public. Unfortunately, cousins are excellent custodians of embarrassing information, and I suspect mine would be capable of producing a rather entertaining biography if sufficiently encouraged.

As we grow older, however, arranging these little adventures becomes increasingly complicated. Work schedules, personal responsibilities, and different commitments begin occupying the days that once seemed available for spontaneous activities. During childhood, family gatherings often happened without requiring much planning from us. Adults organised the arrangements, and we simply appeared, ate whatever was prepared, and entertained ourselves. Now we are becoming the adults responsible for deciding when, where, and how to meet, which is a rather disappointing discovery for somebody who once imagined adulthood would involve unlimited freedom. Apparently, freedom arrives accompanied by calendars, expenses, and the occasional need to negotiate annual leave.

Perhaps that is why our summer trip felt especially worthwhile. We had made time to spend the day together despite our individual responsibilities, and the destination gave us something different to experience beyond our familiar routines. A waterfall excursion may not seem like an important family milestone, but memories do not always announce their significance while they are being created. Sometimes an ordinary outing becomes meaningful only later, when we realise how much our circumstances have changed and how fortunate we were to have spent that particular day together. I hope that in the coming years, we continue finding opportunities for more Cousinventures, even if the destinations and our individual responsibilities eventually become different.

The trip also reminded me how fortunate Cebu is to possess such varied landscapes. Within one province, visitors can explore coastal towns, historical landmarks, mountains, beaches, and natural attractions such as Aguinid’s multi-tiered waterfalls. There is something almost excessive about the variety, as though our island has decided that nobody should be able to complain about a shortage of beautiful places. Yet we often look beyond the Philippines when imagining our dream destinations, admiring photographs of foreign landscapes while overlooking places that may be within travelling distance of home. I certainly have countries I hope to visit someday, and I would love to encounter different cultures and environments. But I do not want those ambitions to prevent me from recognising the beauty that already exists around me.

I suppose there is a particular kind of gratitude that comes from discovering your own province more carefully. We become accustomed to calling somewhere home, but familiarity does not necessarily mean we understand everything it contains. There are towns we know only by name, roads we have never followed, and natural attractions we have admired in photographs without making the effort to experience them. Our trip to Samboan reminded me that home can still surprise us. Perhaps that is one of the pleasures of travelling locally: we do not need to leave behind everything familiar to discover something new. We simply need enough curiosity to explore another corner of the place we thought we already knew.

Of course, enjoying natural attractions also comes with responsibilities. Places like Aguinid are valuable not only because visitors find them beautiful but because they form part of the local environment and the communities surrounding them. I hope people who visit remember to respect the area, follow the guidance provided, and avoid treating a beautiful landscape as though it exists solely for photographs. Natural attractions deserve care, particularly when increasing tourism brings more people into places that may be environmentally sensitive. There is no great achievement in discovering somewhere lovely if our behaviour contributes to damaging the very things that made it worth visiting.

I also appreciate the role of local communities in making destinations like Aguinid accessible. Responsible tourism can provide opportunities for residents while encouraging visitors to recognise the importance of environmental protection and local knowledge. At the time of our April 2016 visit, the entrance fees were ₱20 for Filipino visitors and ₱40 for foreign visitors. I am recording those amounts as part of our experience rather than suggesting that they will remain unchanged indefinitely, because practical travel information has a remarkable habit of ageing faster than the photographs accompanying it. Fees, visitor arrangements, and facilities can change, so anybody planning a future trip should confirm the latest information rather than assume that my little travel diary will remain an eternal authority on entrance prices.

What remains important to me is how much we enjoyed discovering Aguinid Falls. The different waterfall levels, beautiful rock formations, and surrounding greenery provided a memorable introduction to southern Cebu’s natural attractions. But the experience also involved the people accompanying me, the conversations we shared, and the satisfaction of having made time for something beyond our ordinary responsibilities. I am beginning to think that the success of a journey cannot be measured entirely through the number of places visited or photographs collected. Sometimes it lies in the memories we create along the way, particularly the ones that return unexpectedly to make us smile months or years afterwards.

I find it interesting how travelling changes the way we remember places. Before our visit, Aguinid Falls was a destination I knew through its name, location, and reputation as a beautiful natural attraction. Afterwards, it became associated with a particular day in April, the company of my cousins, and the experience of exploring its different sections. The name now carries memories that did not exist before we travelled there. I suppose that is one of the reasons people develop such affection for particular destinations. The place itself may remain beautiful regardless of who visits, but our personal experiences give it another layer of meaning.

There is also a certain satisfaction in knowing that the river will continue flowing long after we have returned to our everyday lives. We spent a day admiring its beauty, photographing the surroundings, and appreciating the opportunity to explore somewhere new. Then we returned home, while the water continued moving through the landscape without requiring any acknowledgement of our departure. There is something humbling about that thought. Nature does not depend upon our presence to remain remarkable, and the places we visit possess stories extending far beyond the few hours we spend there. I hope I remember that whenever I travel, because being a visitor should encourage curiosity and respect rather than the assumption that a destination exists merely to provide us with entertainment.

As for becoming a waterfall chaser, I must admit that the title sounds considerably more impressive than my actual qualifications. I enjoy beautiful scenery, appreciate the opportunity to travel, and possess enough enthusiasm to agree to adventures before fully considering the physical demands involved. Whether that makes me an accomplished waterfall chaser is debatable. I suspect my cousins would have strong opinions about my suitability for the position, particularly if they were allowed to evaluate my complaints during the journey. Nevertheless, I am willing to continue developing my experience, provided future expeditions include sensible planning, appropriate precautions, and preferably enough time to recover before returning to ordinary responsibilities.

I also hope that our adventures will continue encouraging us to appreciate time together. The destinations may change, and some journeys may eventually take us farther from home, but I would like the companionship to remain an important part of the experience. We will grow older, encounter different responsibilities, and perhaps become less available for spontaneous outings. There may be years when organising a family adventure requires considerable effort, and others when circumstances make travelling together difficult. That possibility makes me grateful for the opportunities we have now. I would rather collect memories while we can than spend every summer assuming there will always be another perfectly convenient occasion.

Looking back, our first Cousinventure stop offered more than a beautiful destination. It gave us a reason to spend time together, discover another part of Cebu, and enjoy an experience that differed from our ordinary routines. The landscape was beautiful, the company familiar, and the adventure just demanding enough to remind me that relaxation can occasionally involve considerably more physical effort than expected. I returned with photographs, memories, and a renewed appreciation for the places waiting to be explored within our province. I also returned with the understanding that a good travel companion is not necessarily someone who always agrees with your decisions, but someone who can make even the less glamorous parts of a journey entertaining.

I began this entry questioning why my cousins and I had voluntarily chosen a holiday activity involving more movement than sitting comfortably beside a pool. After thinking about our experience at Aguinid Falls, I suppose the answer is straightforward. We wanted an adventure, and we wanted to experience somewhere beautiful together. We could have spent the day doing something familiar, but instead we travelled south and discovered a place that gave us another collection of shared memories. Perhaps the physical effort was part of what made the experience distinctive, although I still maintain that comfortable seating is a perfectly respectable contribution to the tourism industry.

Aguinid Falls was only the beginning of our southern Cebu exploration, and there are more memories from the trip waiting to be written. I hope the succeeding destinations will be just as enjoyable, although I would appreciate it if nature occasionally considered making its attractions slightly less demanding upon the legs. For now, I am pleased that we chose to begin our summer adventure in Samboan. The waterfalls were worth seeing, the journey was worth making, and spending the day with my cousins reminded me that some of the most enjoyable stories begin with a simple suggestion that nobody has fully thought through.

If somebody asks whether travelling approximately 150 kilometres from Cebu City was worth the effort, I would happily say yes. We discovered a beautiful waterfall system, spent time with family, and returned with memories that will probably become even more entertaining as the years pass. I suspect our photographs will eventually reveal details we have already forgotten, including hairstyles we may wish to deny and expressions that deserve no explanation. But I shall keep them anyway, because they belong to a day when we were young enough to regard chasing waterfalls as a perfectly sensible summer activity.

And perhaps that is what makes a Cousinventure different from an ordinary trip. It is not simply the destination or the activities we complete, but the particular collection of personalities accompanying us. Some families spend summer sitting comfortably beside the water, discussing the weather and appreciating the view. Mine apparently prefers finding water that descends through several levels, then turning the experience into a family adventure with enough photographs to provide evidence for future generations. I suppose I should be grateful that we chose waterfalls instead of developing a sudden interest in climbing the nearest mountain before breakfast. With my cousins, however, I have learned never to dismiss the possibility of an even more ambitious suggestion.

As I finish writing about Aguinid Falls, I am reminded that I do not need every journey to become an extraordinary accomplishment. Sometimes it is enough to discover somewhere beautiful, return home safely, and have a story worth sharing. Our first waterfall adventure gave us precisely that, along with a renewed appreciation for the natural attractions of southern Cebu and the people who make exploring them worthwhile. I am already looking forward to remembering our next destination, although I suspect my legs would prefer a slightly less enthusiastic itinerary.

For now, Episode One of our Cousinventure is officially complete. We travelled south, admired Aguinid’s beautiful waterfall levels, and discovered that family bonding can apparently be disguised as a rather effective fitness activity. If the coming episodes involve even more impressive scenery, I shall be delighted. If they involve more demanding terrain, I shall endeavour to remain cheerful while privately considering whether somebody has mistaken our holiday for an athletic competition. Either way, I know I will be glad to have gone, because the memories we make together are usually worth far more than the temporary inconvenience of getting there.

April 2016 | Cousinventure Episode One — Aguinid Falls, Samboan, Cebu. A summer adventure through the multi-tiered waterfalls of Tangbo River, with good company, beautiful scenery, and a family that apparently considers exercise an essential part of relaxation.

— Just Anj, aspiring waterfall chaser, enthusiastic photographer, and a cousin who still believes every adventure deserves a comfortable chair at the end.