Island Glide: A Skate Trip to Siargao Island, Philippines

By Samantha Trayhurn
Photography by Cecile Lambert

When Miss Universe Philippines was asked how many islands there are in her home country, she famously replied, “At low tide or high tide?” Fair question. With around 7,000 islands scattered like freckles across the Pacific, the Philippines is better known for world-class diving and surfing than anything involving eight wheels. So, when I announced I was hosting the first Island Glide Roller Skate Retreat on Siargao Island, the reactions were… mixed.

“Where?”

“Do they even have skate spots there?”

“Is it safe?”

All valid. Slightly rude, but valid.

Ten years ago, I visited Siargao for the first time. My surf-obsessed ex picked it as the first stop on a one-year Southeast Asia trip. I ended up staying for six months, working at a tiny hotel and guiding horse rides along the beach at low tide. Back then, there wasn’t a matcha latte or ice bath in sight. If you wanted a beaded bracelet, there was exactly one cart on the entire island. The crowd was mostly surfers, and Siargao hadn’t yet made it onto the average backpacker’s “must-do-before-I-find-myself” list. It felt a world away from places like Bali or Koh Samui.

Fast-forward to about a year ago, when my friend Wade Trevean posted a story of a skatepark build in Siargao. I immediately messaged him: “No way. I used to live there.” Turns out the park was partly funded by Olympic surfer and skateboarder Sky Brown, and it looked very skateable.

Wade’s not just any builder, either. I first met him while teaching roller skating in a remote Aboriginal community in Central Australia, at a park he designed. Since then, he’s built parks everywhere from Morocco to Iraq with Make Life Skate Life. He knows how to pour concrete that brings people together, and is actually fun to skate. “You’ve got to bring roller skating to Siargao,” he tells me. “It’s not how you remember it… but skating is blowing up here. It’ll go off.”

And just like that, Island Glide was born.Within a few months, the plan somehow became real. When I looked at the guest list and saw names like Michelle Steilen (Moxi Skates) and Rose Crooks (Brunny Hardcore), I had a small internal meltdown. I was about to host 10 absolute shredders on a five-day skate trip around Siargao. No pressure, right?

Pre-retreat: Feb 25th

I land a few days early with my partner, determined to squeeze in some waves before the group arrives. Siargao has changed a lot. There’s now a bridge to Catangnan, and proper bitumen roads connect most of the island.

The places I remember feel like ghosts. The original three-storey Cloud 9 jetty - where you could sit alone in the off-season, watching the sunset with a bottle of Tanduay rum - is gone. Much of the island was destroyed by Typhoon Odette in 2021, and what followed was a rapid rebuild that struggled to keep up with the surge in tourism.

Then COVID hit, and suddenly everyone had time to learn how to surf via YouTube. As soon as borders reopened, Siargao was flooded with people chasing that tropical dream. Talking to locals, it’s bittersweet—great for the economy, but the island is feeling the pressure. Shops, restaurants and resorts are now packed in tight, like someone hit “copy and paste” a few too many times.

Still, it feels good to be back. I inhale pan de coco (a delicious local coconut bread filled with jam) and spend a few days chasing swell. There’s nothing quite like hopping in a fisherman’s boat and puttering out to a break that looks like it’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s swelteringly hot, and whatever sunscreen I bought locally seems to slide straight off my skin. By the time the group arrives, I’m less ‘sun-kissed’ and more ‘crispy,’ but ready to skate.

Day 1: March 1st

The group arrives from all over the world; some after flights as long as 22 hours. The jet lag is intense. Our intro chat is a mix of excitement and people trying not to fall asleep.

We play two truths and a lie and learn that Estro has been chased by both a shark and an elephant; Rose Smith-Woollams has been arrested, and June, the youngest member of the group (12), loves hamsters and writing, but not math.

Naturally, in tropical island style, it starts raining. I pivot and take the group to the bowl at Bravo Resort instead of the skatepark. It’s the only undercover option, and two days ago, it was half full of water. When I offered to help drain it, I was told it wouldn’t work because the water comes up from underneath. Not reassuring. Luckily, today it’s dry.

Everyone quickly shakes off the nerves. Ishpreet’s side stance is instantly iconic, and Crooks absolutely demolishes the coping with a full menu of grinds. By the time we finish, we’re dripping in sweat and roll into the restaurant. The staff don’t even blink. You have to love Filipino hospitality.

Day 2: March 2nd

We start with meditation led by Estro, which is exactly what I need to calm the “I’m responsible for all of this” energy buzzing in my brain. She talks about astral projection and seeing in colors, and the group is completely on board.

By the time we walk to the skatepark, the heat is already intense. We feel a bit like the varied meats being slow-cooked on the roadside grills.

Siargao Skatepark lives up to the hype. A five-foot mini flows into a bigger quarter, with banks, a rainbow rail, a triangle with a chunky rail, ledges, and a long quarter with a keyhole and hip. Plenty to keep everyone busy.

There are a few puddles, but the aunty who lives behind the park comes out with a squeegee to help us. Before most of us are fully awake, Estro is already throwing flips, and Rose is grinding over the keyhole. Shade and water breaks are an essential survival strategy. When we can’t skate anymore, we head for lunch. For me, it’s a bag full of 10-peso spring rolls.

Getting everyone to the second session at ShakaBrah skatepark is an adventure. Three Bao-Baos, multiple routes, and a strong dose of “hope for the best.” One group’s tricycle breaks down. While another gets taken to the wrong place, THEN gets hit up for a higher fare mid-route. Somehow, everyone arrives.

The spot is a dream: a flowy DIY tucked among palm trees. The main section feels like it was built by surfers. Zeb, Michelle and June make getting laid out look effortless and steezy. Eventually, we all end up sessioning a marble fence that backs onto rocks. It’s high risk, which naturally makes it more appealing.

Local sisters Bella and Helen join us, and watching them take it all in is one of those quiet, meaningful moments. You can almost see the possibilities clicking into place. I show them a few things on the flat ground.

Later, we end the day watching sunset over the bridge, drinking Red Horse (the most potent local beer) as the sky turns lilac.

Day 3: March 3rd

It’s a 6:30 a.m. start. Again. Some are questioning our life choices, but deep down, we all know it’s worth it.

It’s June’s birthday, so we send her good energy during meditation. The two Roses are missing (possibly on account of the Red Horse), but eventually reappear at breakfast for an extra-strong coffee.

The bus arrives, and we head out touring for the day. First stop: a viewpoint and the “human drone,” which is basically a local
guy who films cinematic phone footage by sprinting, spinning, and parkouring around you. Honestly? The footage is pretty great.

At Magpupunko rock pools, Lucy reveals she used to be a synchronised swimmer and leads a routine. It’s more chaotic than graceful, but fully committed. Crooks dives through like a dolphin. I give extra points for enthusiasm.

Sugba Lagoon follows, complete with a 6-metre jump platform. Claire’s scream probably reaches the mainland.

We finish at my favourite skate spot: a stretch of road by the beach that gets closed off each evening by the local police. Now here’s a place that knows what law enforcement should be used for. The road becomes an improvised roller rink, with food stalls, ocean views, and locals carving it up on surf-skate boards. Jes glides and grooves with a finesse that gets the locals talking. Kathleen watches on, holding her breath, as Ish and I take June skitching behind a Bao-Bao.

Back at the hotel, June gets her birthday wish: skating with a cake. She rolls over the restaurant’s polished floor as we sing in her 13th year.

And then, because we apparently don’t believe in rest, we head to a Bowl Jam at Bravo. When Michelle throws a backflip, the crowd of around a hundred people absolutely lose it. Skateboards get thrown into the bowl in celebration. And just like that, Siargao skate history is made.

Day 4: March 4th

Rainy morning. Forced rest. No complaints. We take the opportunity for a long breakfast, journaling, and actually getting to sit and talk properly.

After lunch, it’s surf time.

The spot I’ve chosen is a slow, rolling beginner wave, but getting there isn’t easy. I negotiate with a few Bao-Bao drivers to drop us somewhere vaguely close, and we end up at the start of a muddy trail that requires a long walk through calf-deep mud. There’s a bit of hesitation, but in true skater style, everyone commits. When we reach the beach, it’s completely empty. No crowds, no other surf schools, just clean little waves rolling in.

Vince, the local surf coach, gets everyone set up on longboards and runs through the basics. Then his team takes over, guiding people into waves one by one. Within minutes, Claire, Kathleen and Ish are up and riding. When everyone gets up on a party wave together, the vibe is electric. I can’t believe we have scored a private session at one of my favourite spots on the island. Paddling in, the smiles are big and the high fives plentiful.

Day 5: March 5th

We finally wake up to perfect blue skies. Today is island hopping, which is pretty much mandatory in Siargao. We head out by boat, stopping at those classic white sand islands that look like they’ve been photoshopped into real life. Tans are baked, coconuts are drunk, naps are taken beneath palm trees.

By the time we get back, everyone’s a bit sun-dazed, but we still have a skate session in us. The park is packed this afternoon. School’s out, and it’s chaos but fun. Mostly skateboarders, one little girl on blades, and not a scooter in sight.

I brought a stack of extra Chuffed Skates with me, so this feels like the moment to pass them on to the locals. It doesn’t take long before kids start coming over. Kisa is first. She tells me it’s always been her dream to try skates, so I lace her up. Soon, Cia and Marley join in, and Ella swaps her blades to try quads. A young skateboarder named Shaun grabs the last pair and heads straight for the ramps.

They all pick it up fast. Marley’s pumping the mini in no time, Shaun’s rolling around confidently, and Ella waves off help with a firm, “I can do it.” Zeb jumps in to guide Cia, and June gives Shaun a few tips. Suddenly, there are roller skaters everywhere, and it feels amazing. When I tell them they can keep the skates, the reactions are overjoyed and full of emotion. I am reminded of why I do any of this.

On the way home, we spot Shaun riding off on his bike in the dark, still wearing his skates.

Day 6: March 6th

Final day.

We move meditation to the skatepark so we can squeeze in one last session before the heat kicks in. It’s a much more relaxed vibe this morning. No pressure, just everyone chasing the last few tricks they’ve been working on.

Lucy and Claire lock in the rainbow rail. Ish lands a tru-miz. Zeb strings together smooth, flowing lines across the park.

There’s a lot of cheering, a lot of “one more try,” and a lot of sore bones ready for a rest.

At breakfast, we aren’t ready for the trip to end, but our bodies ache, and our skin is ready for some aloe vera and time indoors. I have a feeling that just like surfing, Siargao won’t be a hidden skate mecca for long. I hope to come back 10 years from now and hear stories about the time roller skaters took over the skate spots for a week, planting the seeds for quad skating to become embedded in the local scene.