I first set foot in the Philippines in 1986. I was an Australian engineer working my way around the world — Afghanistan, Haiti, Papua New Guinea, West Africa — and the Philippines made sense as a base. Central to everything, warm, and with enough going on to keep life interesting between contracts.
What I didn’t expect was that I’d never really leave.
Four decades later I’m living in Silang, Cavite, in a house I built myself, and the Philippines has become less of a base and more of a home — the kind of place that gets under your skin in a way that’s hard to explain to people who haven’t experienced it.
An Outdoor Destination Before Anyone Called It That
When I arrived in 1986, the Philippines wasn’t on anyone’s radar as an outdoor adventure destination. There was no “outdoor scene” to speak of — no adventure tour operators, no organised dive trips marketed to foreigners, no hiking groups posting on social media. If you wanted to explore, you just went and explored.
That suited me fine.
I’d grown up surfing in Australia and arrived in the Philippines already holding a commercial dive ticket. Diving wasn’t a hobby — it was something I did seriously. That eventually led to running a large dive boat here, working with treasure hunters exploring the wrecks and underwater history scattered across the Philippine archipelago. If you know anything about the waters around these islands, you’ll know there’s no shortage of both.
Sailing came into the mix too. I skippered a boat from Cebu to Zamboanga once, a trip that took an unexpected detour through the Dangerous Islands in the southern Philippines. We got a bit lost — which is easier to do down there than you might think — and stumbled across islands so pristine, so untouched, that I’d be surprised if anyone has visited them since. No infrastructure, no boats, no footprints. Just coral, jungle and silence.
That’s the Philippines that doesn’t make it into the brochures.
These days I spend more time on the golf course than in the water, but the explorer instinct hasn’t gone anywhere. The Philippines has a way of rewarding people who are willing to go looking.
Why I Built Outdoor Life PH
After living in Cebu, Zamboanga and Manila before settling in Silang, I’ve covered a lot of ground over 40 years. And the one thing that’s always frustrated me — even now in the age of the internet — is how scattered the information is.
Want to find a good dive site in Palawan? You’ll check five different websites, three Facebook groups and a Reddit thread from 2019 and still not get a straight answer. Looking for a campsite in the Cordillera that’s actually accessible? Good luck piecing that together.
Outdoor Life PH exists because that problem annoyed me enough to do something about it. One place. All the information. No hunting around.
You’ll notice that some listings have less information than others — and that’s actually the point. Many of these places are genuine hidden gems, rarely visited and barely documented anywhere online. Some are hard to access, others are simply so off the beaten track that very little has ever been written about them. We’d rather list them with what we know than leave them out entirely. If you’ve been there and can add to the story, leave a review — that’s how this directory grows.
The Philippines has over 7,000 islands, world-class dive sites, hundreds of hiking trails, some of the best golf courses in Asia, surf breaks that rival anything in the region, and historical sites that most visitors never find. It deserves a proper resource — and after 40 years here, I felt like I was probably the right person to build it.
What to Expect
If you’re planning an outdoor adventure in the Philippines — whether you’re a first-timer or a seasoned visitor — my one piece of advice is simple: be prepared for a few surprises.
The Philippines will deliver on everything you’re hoping for. It will also throw in a few things you weren’t expecting. That’s not a warning — it’s half the appeal.
Browse the directory, find your spot, and get out there.
— Peter
