Puerto Princesa Beyond the Underground River: The City Guide You Need

Puerto Princesa stretches along Palawan's eastern coast like a theater in the round, with the city proper at center stage and neighborhoods radiating outward into jungle-clad hills. As a budget traveler with academic interests, I found the downtown area around Rizal Avenue and Malvar Street to be the perfect base camp—affordable accommodations abound, and the central location provides easy access to both cultural sites and transportation hubs.

I stayed at Blue Lagoon Inn, a clean, no-frills guesthouse that perfectly suited my mid-range budget at around ₱1,200 ($22) per night. For those seeking even more economical options, Balai Princesa offers dormitory beds from ₱350 ($6). My research into travel as modern pilgrimage has taught me that where you lay your head fundamentally shapes your experience of place, and Puerto Princesa offers accommodations across the spectrum.

Navigating the city is refreshingly straightforward. Tricycles—the Philippines' iconic three-wheeled motorcycles with sidecars—serve as the main form of transportation. A ride within the city proper rarely exceeds ₱50 ($1), though you'll need to channel your inner haggler as prices aren't fixed. For longer excursions, jeepneys run set routes for even lower fares, though deciphering their system requires some local guidance. I found my pocket phrasebook invaluable for these negotiations, especially when venturing beyond tourist areas.

While the Underground River deservedly holds UNESCO status, my anthropological curiosity led me to Puerto Princesa's less-heralded environmental initiatives that offer equally compelling experiences. The city proudly bills itself as the 'City in a Forest,' and nowhere is this more evident than at the Palawan Wildlife Rescue and Conservation Center (locally known as the Crocodile Farm). Beyond the tourist-oriented crocodile viewing areas lies a serious conservation facility working to protect endangered Philippine crocodiles.

For a more immersive ecological experience, I spent a morning at Baker's Hill, which begins as a seemingly simple bakery but expands into sprawling gardens with free-roaming peacocks and viewpoints overlooking the city. The ₱50 entrance fee is nominal, especially considering you can spend hours exploring the grounds while enjoying their famous hopia pastries.

My most profound connection to Puerto Princesa's environmental ethos came during a firefly watching tour along the Iwahig River. Unlike the crowded Underground River experience, this evening excursion attracted fewer tourists despite its magical quality. As our small boat glided silently through mangrove forests, thousands of synchronous fireflies created nature's own theatrical lighting display. The ₱1,200 ($22) tour included dinner and transportation from the city center.

For the climbing enthusiast in me, Ugong Rock Adventures offered a perfect blend of physical challenge and cultural immersion. Located about an hour from the city, this community-based tourism project features karst limestone formations you can climb through caves and crevices before zip-lining back down. The ₱700 ($13) fee directly supports indigenous communities managing the site. I wore my trusty climbing shoes which provided excellent grip on the limestone, though regular athletic shoes would suffice for beginners.

My dual passions for anthropology and theater found perfect harmony in Puerto Princesa's cultural offerings. The Palawan Heritage Center, though modest in size, provides an excellent primer on the indigenous cultures of the island, including the Batak, Tagbanua, and Pala'wan peoples. The ₱50 entrance fee is nominal for the insights gained, especially if you time your visit to coincide with one of their cultural performances (typically Saturday afternoons).

For an immersive cultural experience that resonates with my academic interest in performance rituals, I attended the Pangkat Kalinangan cultural show at the Palawan State University. This student-led performance showcases traditional dances and music from across the Philippines, not just Palawan. What makes this experience special is the post-show interaction, where performers eagerly explain the cultural significance behind each element. As a researcher, these conversations proved invaluable, especially when discussing how tourism has influenced the preservation and adaptation of traditional performances.

My theatrical interests led me to discover Puerto Princesa's emerging independent arts scene at Rurungan sa Tubod Foundation. This social enterprise primarily focuses on traditional weaving and handicrafts but also hosts impromptu cultural performances and art exhibitions. I purchased a handwoven table runner that now serves as both home décor and a tangible reminder of Palawan's living cultural heritage.

One evening, I stumbled upon an unexpected cultural treasure—a local production of a sarswela (traditional Filipino musical theater) at the Puerto Princesa Coliseum. Though performed entirely in Tagalog, the expressive performances transcended language barriers. I recorded parts of the performance using my portable audio recorder, which has become an essential tool in my ethnographic fieldwork, allowing me to capture ambient sounds and performances with remarkable clarity.

As an anthropologist, I view food markets as cultural text—each ingredient and preparation method telling stories of history, geography, and cultural exchange. The Public Market on Mendoza Street became my morning ritual in Puerto Princesa, where I'd wander among vendors selling freshly caught seafood, tropical fruits in vibrant hues, and local delicacies I couldn't pronounce but eagerly sampled.

For the budget-conscious traveler, Puerto Princesa offers remarkable culinary value. Tiya Meding's Carinderia near the market serves home-style Filipino dishes for under ₱100 ($2) per meal. Their sinigang (sour tamarind soup) with fresh-caught fish proved the perfect antidote to humid afternoons. When ordering, I'd point to what locals were eating—a research method that consistently yielded delicious results.

Kalui Restaurant represents the mid-range dining option that appears in most guidebooks, and deservedly so. Their seafood kinilaw (similar to ceviche) showcases the freshness of Palawan's waters. At ₱300-500 ($6-10) per person, it's pricier than local eateries but still reasonable by Western standards. The restaurant's bamboo architecture and local art create an atmosphere worth experiencing beyond the food itself.

My most memorable meal came from Kinabuchs Grill & Bar, where I finally gathered the courage to try tamilok—woodworm harvested from mangrove trees that's considered a local delicacy. Its oyster-like texture and briny flavor paired surprisingly well with cold San Miguel beer. While eating what is essentially a shipworm required overcoming Western food prejudices, my anthropological training reminded me that culinary boundaries are culturally constructed rather than universal.

For coffee enthusiasts like myself, Itoy's Coffee House offers locally-grown Palawan beans in a charming garden setting. I documented my coffee experiences in my travel journal, which has accompanied me through 17 countries and counting—its weathered pages containing tasting notes, sketches, and reflections that form the backbone of my research.

My academic background inevitably colors my travel experiences, and Puerto Princesa presents a fascinating case study in how a destination balances mass tourism with sustainability. The city implemented one of the Philippines' most successful waste management programs long before eco-tourism became trendy, and evidence of this commitment appears throughout the city in segregated garbage bins, clean streets, and public awareness campaigns.

Visiting the City Environment and Natural Resources Office (City ENRO) might seem like an unusual tourist activity, but as a researcher, their public information center provided valuable insights into Puerto Princesa's journey toward sustainability. The staff welcomed my questions and shared data on how tourism has impacted local ecosystems—both positively through conservation funding and negatively through increased resource consumption.

The Palawan State University offers another academic touchpoint. Their marine science department conducts regular lectures open to the public, where I learned about ongoing research on coral reef conservation and sustainable fishing practices. These sessions provided context that transformed my subsequent island-hopping tour from mere sightseeing to informed appreciation.

For travelers interested in deeper engagement with local environmental issues, the Environmental Legal Assistance Center (ELAC) runs community-based programs that sometimes accept short-term volunteers. I spent an afternoon helping with their mangrove reforestation project, an experience that connected me with local environmentalists and provided insights no tourist attraction could offer.

To document these experiences properly, I relied on my waterproof notebook during field visits and my compact binoculars for wildlife observation—tools that have proven invaluable throughout my research travels.