Siquijor is an island province located at the Central Visayas Region of the Philippines. It is composed of six towns; Enrique Villanueva, Larena, Lazi, Maria, San Juan and Siquijor. The island is bordered on the northwest by Cebu and Negros islands, on the northeast by Bohol, and on the south by the northern Mindanao provinces of Misamis Occidental (Dapitan) and Zamboanga del Norte (Dipolog).
Often dubbed as, the Isla del Fuego (the island of fire) due to the glow it gives off during sundown as multitude of fireflies gather on the molave trees off the island, it is a place of mystery and mysticism especially for older generations who believes in witchcraft and sorcery. And indeed, the said practice is still being observed in Siquijor, albeit on a less prevalent scale as it was before. I find that most people would look strangely on you if you mention that you’re traveling to Siquijor, the island having its reputation with the black arts, but once you get pass that—and it is really not a problem when on the island itself—the place would reward you with amazing tourist spots such as pristine beaches, amazing waterfalls, lush hiking trails, centuries old stone churches, and yes, even the sweetest people.
I T I N E R A R Y 
Lounging on hammocks strung on coconut trees at Coco Grove resort, the afternoon sun suddenly threw out god rays all over the western sky. We scrambled from our relaxed position, gathered our camera bags and followed the glorious rays. 
Where the fine sand ends, stone beds and green algae begins. The ebbing tide provided a dramatic landscape that creates natural pools surrounded by dark rocks and green lichen-like plants.
The western portion of Coco Grove’s kilometer-long shoreline is littered with coral stone formations that rise up to more than a man’s height. Its undersides are carved from eons of waves slamming along its base making an almost cave-like natural stone cantilever of the formations.
The rocks can be scaled and not a few visitors and locals spend the afternoon at its shelf, watching the sun retire or like the kids we saw, singing to their heart’s delight; seemingly giving odes to the beauty of the landscape.
The god rays, too far for my lens were gone by the time we got into position. The landscapes of San Juan nevertheless were still too beautiful to pass up on. The sky was already calling on twilight as we packed up and headed back to the comfort of Coco Grove.
The next morning called early and found me on the opposite end of the beach. 
It seemed everyone’s still dreaming in slumberland except a few fisherfolks already out on the water and some dogs yawning along the beach.
The beach transformed from fine sand to rough pebbles; the water shallow, filled with plant life and creatures that looks like a cross between starfishes and a mini octopuses. 
On the sea’s glassy surface, the sky reflected its indecision; torn between delivering rain and sunshine it throws a few drizzly feelers every now and then. At last it made up its mind and broke off the clouds which the sun dutifully lit with its warm morning rays.
I was ruminating on the past days we were in Siquijor as I made my way back. It was our last day of stay and the past three days had been a complete surprise. I wasn’t expecting to find this mysterious island, so engulfed in rumors of sorcery and witchcraft to be so beautiful. Its old world architecture, natural pools, waterfalls and culture makes it worth risking the dire warnings from home. 
Located on the west side of Coco Grove Resort in San Juan, Siquijor is one of its two restaurants. Aptly named after the setting sun, it is a silent witness to the fiery afternoons of Siquijor. 
Being budget travelers almost always means any room will do; unfortunately we’re not really hardcore backpackers. Although we could’ve just chosen the cheapest accommodation possible in Siquijor, we still tried to look for a cozier one and mightily tried to fit it within our measly budget. 
Coco Grove’s prices include breakfast for two and unlimited hot water free of charge. For your normal uncaffeinated drinking needs though, you’d have to buy their bottled mineral water. No service water for cheapskates like us. To work around this, we bought a six-liter jug of water from a water station a few steps from the resort’s gate and just plunked it in the mini-ref. Php60.00 for 6 liters of mineral water versus Coco Grove’s Php30.00 for 350milliliters, you choose.
On the second day, we transferred to one of the farther rooms since the one we were currently occupying was already booked for another guest ahead of time. We really didn’t mind as the resort’s courteous staff helped us moved our things. The new room was almost identical to the previous one, only difference was it was tucked on a corner of their forest-like garden. 
This is the most famous resort in Siquijor, our guide told us as he maneuvered his tricycle into the gates of Coco Grove. We’re still unsure where to book our three-day stay in the island and Kuya Joam was showing us around the various resorts circling Siquijor’s shoreline.
Passing a long cogon colonnade we were welcomed by a huge white parrot at the Coco Grove’s open-aired front desk. We did our inquiry, the cheapest room they have is priced at Php2,400.00; good for two persons, breakfast included. Not that pricey, but not cheap either. We decided to check out the resort first.
Most people I have talked with don’t wanna be caught dead traveling through Siquijor’s roadways after the sun sets below the liquid horizon. I understand how the island’s reputation for sorcery has somehow ingrained this bit for wary travelers who for some unknown reasons found themselves in the middle of the mystic island. But we’re no part of these groups of vacationeers.
Siquijor has charmed us the moment we alighted at 
Our tricycle had blasted through the wind and roared through the paved roads of Siquijor, passing farmlands, small villages, man-made forests, mangroves and the sea, always the sea. 
We were on the wrong end of the sunset, the coast we were standing on faced east. There were shadows in the horizon as dusk negotiated a treaty with early evening. The sky was transforming into blues and purples; clouds being painted in magentas. 
Dusk was quickly falling as we arrived at the last of the three churches we visited in Siquijor. A boombox blasting out Lady Gaga songs was trying but failing miserably to brighten up the now solemn atmosphere looming over the town of Maria as early evening encroaches on the mystic island 
Dubbed simply as Santa Maria Church by the locals, its exterior is devoid of any ornamentation; no saints on niches, no intricate carvings, no fancy stained glass windows. The same can be said of the octagonal bell tower that squats beside the church. The bell holder seemed more intricate compared to the structure. 
The only thing that doesn’t go well with its old-world charm is the new portico built in front of its two-story tall double doors. Made of concrete and designed in fake neo-classical motif, it clashes with the minimalistic façade of the original structure. 
But enough of that, the architecture of Santa Maria Church, beautiful as it is, is really not what tourists visit in the sleepy town of Maria. Inside the stone church is a religious statue as eerie as the eeriest tale told in Siquijor. 
Dubbed as the Black Magic Maria, it has one of the most piercing gazes I have ever seen, be it from live flesh or dead stone. I didn’t know it’s possible for a lifeless statue to send chills down one’s spine. Covered in black garb, the saint’s pale face is sporting a thin frowning mouth. On one of her hand is a human skull and on the other is a cross, which was said to be inverted. Well it was not inverted when I visited but it didn’t add any comfort to my swirling mind as I willed myself to stare at the apparition; am I really looking at a statue of a saint? 
The history might explain the somber look, but to Siquijodnons there’s more to this sculpture than written history. 
Whether you believe in such chatter is of course entirely up to you. But talks like these take a few more creds than what it should probably deserve when you’re inside an empty echoing church with the sun way below its small windows and you can feel the Black Maria’s eyes seemingly staring behind your back. 
Sta. Maria Church 
