馬尼拉》百勝灘》宿霧》邁克坦島》奧蘭格群島》馬尼拉
A Family Holiday in the Philippines in the 1990s
九〇年代的菲律賓全家之旅
Sometime in the 1990s, when overseas travel still carried a sense of distance and discovery, I took my whole family on a group holiday to the Philippines（菲律賓）.
There were no smartphones, digital maps or instant messages. We travelled with a tour leader, carried a film camera, and waited until returning home to discover whether our photographs had turned out well. Every roll of film was limited, so every press of the shutter had to be considered carefully.
Our journey took us from the crowded capital to a rushing jungle river, and then onward to the warm, blue waters of the central Philippines:
Manila（馬尼拉） → Pagsanjan Falls（百勝灘瀑布） → Cebu（宿霧） → Mactan Island（麥克坦島） → Olango Islands（奧蘭戈群島） → Manila（馬尼拉）
It was more than a tropical holiday. It became a precious chapter in our family history—a time when we could travel together, sit in the same boat, become soaked by the same waterfall and look toward the same distant horizon.
Manila: The Gateway to the Islands
馬尼拉：通往群島的大門
Our journey began in Manila（馬尼拉）, a vast and energetic city beside Manila Bay. The tropical heat greeted us as soon as we left the airport. Crowded streets stretched in every direction, while brightly decorated jeepneys（吉普尼公車） moved noisily through the traffic.
Each jeepney seemed to be a travelling work of folk art. Some carried religious images, family names or colourful English phrases; others glittered with polished metal beneath the fierce sunlight. They represented the humour, creativity and resilience of ordinary Filipino life.
At Intramuros（王城區）, we walked within the walls of old Manila. Spanish churches, fortifications and horse-drawn calesas（西班牙式馬車） recalled the centuries when the Philippines stood at the crossroads of Asia, Europe and the Americas.
The stones carried memories of colonial rule, revolution and war. Yet outside the ancient walls, Manila continued to surge forward with traffic, music, vendors and the ceaseless movement of city life.
The adults paused to consider the history, but the children were already looking forward to the most exciting parts of our holiday: the waterfall, the boats and the islands waiting beyond Manila.
Pagsanjan: Shooting the Rapids
百勝灘：乘木舟勇闖激流
From Manila, our tour bus carried us through the countryside of Laguna Province（拉古納省） to Pagsanjan（百勝灘）, famous for its river gorge and waterfall.
Here we boarded long, extremely narrow wooden canoes. This was not modern white-water rafting in a large inflatable raft. Each small canoe carried only a few passengers and was controlled by two remarkably skilled boatmen—one at the bow and the other at the stern.
The famous river adventure was known as shooting the rapids（勇闖急流）.
At first, the boatmen paddled steadily upstream. As the river narrowed and became shallower, they jumped onto the slippery rocks and used their feet, hands and paddles to push the canoe through the rapids. At difficult sections, they practically lifted the little boat over the stones.
Their strength and balance astonished us.
We sat low inside the canoe, holding tightly to its sides. The children cried out whenever the boat struck a rock or tilted suddenly; the adults tried to appear calm, though we were often just as nervous.
Water splashed across our faces, and our laughter echoed between the cliffs.
The river led us into a deep tropical gorge. Ferns and vines hung from the wet rock walls, and dense green trees almost concealed the sky. Sunlight entered through the forest canopy in scattered beams, turning the mist and spray into silver.
As we travelled farther into the gorge, the sound of falling water gradually grew louder. At last, Pagsanjan Falls（百勝灘瀑布） appeared before us, pouring powerfully into the pool below.
We transferred to a simple bamboo raft（竹筏）, which carried us closer to the waterfall. The roar became deafening, and within moments we were completely drenched. Water fell around us like a tropical storm, washing away the heat and weariness of the journey.
Everyone laughed—parents and children alike. Beneath that waterfall, age and dignity no longer mattered; for a few exhilarating moments, the whole family became young again.
The downstream return was even more exciting. Now the canoe raced with the current. The boatmen twisted and guided it between the rocks with astonishing precision as we descended through the rapids.
It was not the carefully controlled amusement of a modern water park. It was river, rock, human strength and a fragile wooden boat. That raw simplicity made the experience unforgettable.
Cebu: History beside the Sea
宿霧：海風中的歷史
We next flew south to Cebu（宿霧）, one of the most historically important islands in the Philippines. Cebu offered an unusual combination of Catholic devotion, Spanish colonial history, busy urban life and tropical seascapes.
At Magellan’s Cross（麥哲倫十字架）, we encountered the story of Ferdinand Magellan’s arrival in 1521 and the beginning of Spanish Christianity in the islands. Nearby stood the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño（聖嬰大教堂）, where worshippers prayed before the revered image of the Holy Child.
Yet Cebu also remembered Lapu-Lapu（拉普拉普）, the local ruler who resisted Magellan’s expedition. Magellan was killed during the Battle of Mactan（麥克坦戰役）, and Lapu-Lapu later became a national symbol of courage and resistance.
Thus, Cebu preserved two opposing memories: Magellan, who opened a new chapter in Philippine history, and Lapu-Lapu, who defended his homeland against foreign intrusion.
Standing there with the family, we felt that history was not simply a list of dates. It was a meeting of different peoples, ambitions and destinies upon the shores of a small tropical island.
Crossing to Mactan Island
橫越海峽前往麥克坦島
From Cebu, we crossed to Mactan Island（麥克坦島）. In most of the 1990s, travellers used the original Mactan–Mandaue Bridge（麥克坦—曼達維大橋）; the second bridge did not open until August 1999.
Mactan was already known for its seaside resorts and marine activities, but it was not yet as densely developed as it is today. Beyond the hotels were fishing villages, coconut palms, modest houses and stretches of rocky tropical shoreline.
After Manila’s traffic and the busy streets of Cebu, the island felt spacious and refreshing. The air carried the smell of salt; palm leaves moved gently in the wind, and the blue sea seemed to invite us to leave the land behind.
Across the Sea in a Crab Boat
乘著螃蟹船出海
At the shore, we boarded a traditional Philippine outrigger boat（螃蟹船）, locally called a bangka（班卡船）.
Long bamboo floats extended from both sides of the narrow hull like the legs of a crab, giving the boat stability as it crossed the waves. A simple roof offered some protection from the fierce tropical sun, though the wind and spray still reached everyone on board.
When the engine started, the boat trembled and slowly moved away from shore. The buildings of Mactan gradually receded, while the water changed from pale green near the coast to turquoise and then to a rich, luminous blue.
This was our island-hopping journey（跳島之旅）.
The children leaned excitedly toward the water, and the adults repeatedly reminded them to sit still and hold on. Yet beneath those warnings was a shared happiness: the entire family was together in one little boat, moving across the open sea toward islands we had never seen before.
Sea spray touched our faces. The bamboo outriggers rose and fell with the waves, and distant islands appeared along the horizon like low green clouds.
Water Activities in the 1990s
九〇年代的海上活動
The marine activities of the 1990s were simpler than those offered by today’s highly developed resorts, but to us they were already full of excitement.
Wearing masks and breathing tubes, we tried snorkelling（浮潛） in the clear, warm water. Looking beneath the surface, we discovered an entirely different world: small tropical fish moved above coral and sea grass, while sunlight entered the water in trembling rays.
Some family members swam close to the boat; others preferred to hold on to the bamboo outriggers and simply enjoy floating in the sea.
At the larger resorts, visitors could also try scuba diving（水肺潛水）, water-skiing（水上滑水）, parasailing（水上拖曳傘）, jet-skiing（水上摩托車） and banana boating（香蕉船）. Not everyone in the family wanted the more adventurous activities, but watching others bounce across the waves was entertainment enough.
There were no mobile phones to hold above the water and no action cameras recording every movement. We simply swam, laughed and entrusted a few important moments to our film camera, carefully protected from the seawater.
Perhaps because photographs were scarce, we paid greater attention to the experience itself—the warmth of the water, the brilliance of the sky, the laughter of the children and the sensation of travelling together across the tropical sea.
Landing on the Olango Islands
登上奧蘭戈群島
Our crab boat eventually approached the Olango Island Group（奧蘭戈群島）. There was no grand passenger terminal waiting for us. We climbed carefully from the boat into shallow water, lifted our bags and cameras above the waves, and waded toward the shore.
To set foot upon a small island brought a wonderful feeling of discovery.
We went on a gentle island walk（島上健行）, following sandy paths beneath coconut trees. Along the way, we passed simple village houses, fishermen repairing their nets and children who watched the unfamiliar visitors with curiosity.
Life appeared to move at a slower rhythm, measured not by office hours and traffic lights, but by sunrise, tides and the return of the fishing boats.
The Olango Island Wildlife Sanctuary（奧蘭戈島野生動物保護區） was formally established in 1992 and became the Philippines’ first internationally recognised Ramsar wetland（拉姆薩國際重要濕地） in 1994.
If our visit took place in the middle or later part of the decade, it would still have been a relatively new protected area. Its facilities were simple, and it had not yet developed into a well-known ecotourism destination.
Across the broad tidal flats（潮間帶）, migratory birds searched for food in the shallow water. Mangroves, sea-grass beds and coral reefs created a rich coastal habitat. When a flock suddenly rose into the sky, the birds seemed to carry the entire landscape upward with them.
There were few crowds and no elaborate viewing platforms—only wind, water, distant birds and the immense tropical sky.
A Simple Meal beside the Sea
海風中的簡單午餐
Our island lunch was simple but delicious: grilled fish, prawns, squid, crabs, rice and sweet tropical fruit.
Perhaps it was not served in an elegant restaurant, but after boating, swimming and walking beneath the sun, it tasted like a banquet. Salt remained on our skin, the sea breeze sharpened our appetite, and everyone gathered happily around the same table.
The children compared the shells they had found along the shore. The adults talked beneath the shade while damp clothes dried slowly in the warm air. Nearby, the crab boat waited in the shallow water, its bamboo outriggers moving gently with the tide.
The afternoon sun scattered countless points of light across the sea. For a little while, ordinary concerns seemed very far away.
Returning to Manila
回到馬尼拉
Eventually, the crab boat carried us back to Mactan. From there, we returned through Cebu to Manila, bringing our family holiday full circle.
Our luggage contained damp swimsuits, a few shells, small souvenirs and several precious rolls of exposed film. Unlike today, we could not immediately examine our pictures. We had to wait until we returned home, take the film to a photographic shop and hope that the exposures had succeeded.
When the photographs were finally developed, some were too dark, some were slightly blurred, and someone occasionally had closed eyes. Yet even those imperfect pictures were treasures. They preserved the whole family sitting together in a narrow canoe, laughing beneath Pagsanjan Falls, standing beside a crab boat or smiling under the Philippine sun.
What the Photographs Could Not Preserve
照片未能留住的歲月
Today, this journey has become one of our family’s most precious memories.
Unfortunately, we did not take many photographs. Film was expensive and limited, and each photograph required a deliberate decision. We could not record every meal, every boat ride or every joyful expression as people do so easily today.
Later, during several house moves, some of the photographs and albums were unfortunately misplaced and lost. Pictures that had once preserved familiar faces, tropical shorelines and shared laughter quietly disappeared among the boxes and changing homes.
It is painful to think that some of those irreplaceable images may never be recovered. There are moments from that journey which now survive in no photograph at all.
Yet memory sometimes preserves what a camera cannot.
Even without the missing pictures, I can still see the whole family seated inside the narrow canoe at Pagsanjan（百勝灘）. I can hear the waterfall thundering around us and remember how everyone laughed when the bamboo raft carried us beneath the falling water.
I can still feel the sea spray touching our faces aboard the outrigger boat（螃蟹船）, and see the children looking eagerly into the clear water for tropical fish. I remember stepping ashore at the Olango Islands（奧蘭戈群島）, walking beneath the coconut trees and watching birds rise from the tidal flats.
Some photographs were lost during the moves, but the journey itself was never truly lost.
It remains within us—in the sound of rushing water, the warmth of the tropical sun, the rhythm of the waves and the memory of a time when the whole family could still travel together.
Perhaps that is why this Philippine holiday has become more precious with every passing year. Photographs may fade, albums may disappear, children grow up and houses change, but the happiness once shared by a family continues to live quietly in the heart.
The rapids of Pagsanjan still flow toward the waterfall. The blue sea still surrounds Mactan and Olango. Somewhere in memory, our little crab boat is still moving beneath the brilliant Philippine sky—with the whole family together, travelling toward an island and a golden afternoon that time can never completely take away.
