This Hidden Spot in Agusan Surprised Me More Than I Expected

Hey Hivemates,

So I’ve been sitting on this little story for a while. I kept thinking, “Maybe it’s not that special,” or “Will anyone even care?” But it’s been stuck in my head for days now. And honestly, that probably means it’s worth sharing. This memory—from a spontaneous trip to Bobon, Agusan del Norte—snuck up on me. And somehow, it’s still here. Still vivid. Still making me smile when I least expect it.

It wasn’t some big, well-planned vacation. My aunt had just come home from Zamboanga, and the house had been feeling kind of heavy. Everyone seemed tired. Not in a dramatic way—just quietly worn out. The kind of tired where you start craving silence. Nature. Somewhere away from all the traffic sounds and constant noise of daily life.

That’s when someone brought up Bobon.

None of us had been there before. It wasn’t fancy or well-known. But that made it better. When we arrived, I remember stopping for a second and just staring at the water. It was so clear. Not the usual pool kind of clear—this was natural, flowing, icy-cold water that jolts you awake in the best way. It didn’t smell like chlorine. It smelled like rocks and trees and something real.

We didn’t do anything extraordinary. But somehow, that made it more special.

We swam for hours. Laughed too loud. Slid down those slides like we were little kids again. We cannonballed into the pool with no grace at all. Water everywhere. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. It was one of those days where the laughter feels different—like it came from deep inside, like it washed something heavy off your shoulders.

We didn’t have some big setup or anything. Just brought along home-cooked food, a Bluetooth speaker someone dug out from a drawer, and a cooler full of soda and melted ice. That was enough. We laid out mats under the trees, let the music play in the background, and just let the day happen. No timelines, no pressure to “make it fun.” We were just present, and weirdly, that made everything feel lighter. What’s still wild to me is that it all came down to only ₱100 each. No kidding. For a day that left us full, happy, and kind of sunburned, it almost felt like a steal. Even the two-hour drive getting there felt like part of the experience. We cracked dumb jokes, sang badly in the car, made up stories about the towns we passed.

But like all good stories, there was one hiccup.

While I was swimming, I lost my Crocs. I’d left them by the pool, not thinking twice about it. When I came back—they were gone. We searched everywhere. Literally. Even asked the staff to check the CCTV. But of course, the one camera that could’ve caught anything? Not working that day. Just my luck.

I was annoyed, obviously. No one likes walking barefoot on hot concrete. But later, I realized it didn’t really matter. The trip wasn’t ruined. Not even close. That little mishap somehow added flavor to the memory. Like, “Hey, remember that day we went to Bobon—and you lost your shoes?” It became part of the story. Something to laugh about later.

I went home without my slippers, yeah. But I came back with something else—something better. A story. A memory that feels like sunshine in my chest when I think about it.

Have you ever lost something on a trip, but ended up gaining something you didn’t expect?

The first picture is edited from Canva.
All pictures are taken from me.