Lusno Falls: The Hidden Cebu Waterfall That Taught Me The Truth About Happiness

There’s a version of this day that went exactly as planned. This wasn’t it. The original plan had all the right details. It felt safe, structured, and made sense on paper. But the Universe had other ideas. One message and everything shifted, quietly and suddenly, like most real things do. I could’ve stayed home and waited for another perfect day. Instead, I ventured toward Lusno Falls, a middle-of-nowhere waterfall I barely knew, with no concrete plan at all.

I didn’t know what the trail looked like, how far the falls were, or if I was even going the right way.

I just kept going.

And I wasn’t alone on this adventure. 

A couple of friends joined me who were willing to trade structure for spontaneity and maps for curiosity. 

None of us knew exactly where we were headed. 

And strangely, that might’ve been better than anything I had in mind.

What followed was a day of detours, laughter, loose directions, and moments that didn’t look perfect but somehow felt right.

Here’s what we discovered on our unplanned trip to Lusno Falls, Argao.

My experience at Lusno Falls in Argao, Cebu

Most travel plans with friends end up as screenshots, group chats, and open tabs. 

This time, we just left.

Originally, the plan was to explore a secret cave and climb a ruggedly beautiful monolith.

But as with most things lately, everything changed in the blink of an eye.

And just like that, we were left with only one option: cancel the trip and stay at home.

As I was chilling at home, preparing for a weekend of Netflix and naps, a thought suddenly came into my mind.

Plans give us a false sense of safety. But nothing ever changes until we start moving.

That’s something my boss tells me every time we transition into a new process.

He always says, Don’t overplan and overthink. We’ll just figure things out later.

Funny how a work meeting taught me something I usually only learn on the road.

It was not because it came from my boss, but because it sounded like something the trail would say.

Where did I hear that principle or lesson?

Was it from a meeting? 

A random podcast?

A story in a magazine I picked up on some random flight?

Maybe I’d find the answer somewhere along the road to Lusno Falls in Argao, Cebu.

09:00 AM: Arrival in Ronda, Cebu

We arrived in Ronda at around 9 a.m., after a three-hour bus ride from Cebu City. 

Somewhere between dozing off and staring out the window, I started Google Lusno Falls, looking for tips, photos, anything to help us figure out where we were actually going.

As it turns out, the waterfall is technically in Anajao, Argao, but it’s a lot closer to Ronda. 

A few blogs mentioned taking a habal-habal to the jump-off point, with fares listed at ₱150 per person.

But the post I found was from 2019.

And with today’s fuel prices, I knew there was no way that fare still held up.

Then came the plot twist.

Holy sh*t.

Most drivers we asked either didn’t know where Lusno Falls was or weren’t sure about the rates. 

I was starting to look for other options until a tuk-tuk driver overheard us, walked over, and said he knew the place.

I asked how much the ride costs, and he said ₱150 per person.

That was a bargain, and a much better option than the habal-habal ride.

It felt like a small win and a breadcrumb from the Universe, saying to keep going.

So we did.

We hopped on the tuk-tuk and began our ride toward the unknown. 

Toward Lusno Falls.

09:20 AM: The scenic drive to Lusno Falls

The ride to Lusno Falls was long, bumpy, and beautifully scenic.

As we passed through sleepy barangays and patches of coconut trees swaying in the breeze, I found myself chatting with the driver.

I asked about the place, the people, and about the attractions in the area.

Now, I wasn’t trying to be nosy. 

And I wasn’t grilling him like some uptight tourist.

I was just… genuinely curious. 

Curious about the corners of Cebu I hadn’t seen yet. 

Curious if there were other hidden gems nearby. 

And curious how people lived out here, far from the city noise.

At one point, I even asked if this was the road to Taginis Falls, which I explored several years ago.

And besides, I also had to ask the important stuff, like how we were supposed to get back to Cebu City from Lusno Falls. 

Because if there’s one thing we didn’t plan for, it was the ride home.

06:00 AM: The bus ride bound for Ronda

Getting to a middle-of-nowhere waterfall is easy.

Getting back home? 

That’s where it gets tricky.

I had already started gathering bits of info about Lusno Falls.

The original plan was to visit two waterfalls that day: Lusno Falls and Cambanog Falls.

According to Google Maps, they were within walking distance of each other. 

And based on the info I saw, Cambanog Falls was closer to Dumanjug.

So I had two choices.

Start in Ronda, ride to Lusno Falls, and hike toward Cambanog.

Or begin in Dumanjug, visit Cambanog first, then search for Lusno Falls after.

Honestly, I had no idea which one made more sense.

Then, our bus made a short stop to their station. 

Suddenly, I saw a sign from the Universe that helped me make the decision.

A bus parked had “Anajao, Argao” written on its front.

That’s where Lusno Falls is.

I blinked twice. 

Was that real?

We should’ve taken that bus.

But we didn’t even know a route to Anajao existed.

And we’d already paid for our tickets.

At least, I had a clue on how to get back home.

And I wouldn’t have known that if I had stayed home, overthinking every detail.

09: 45 PM: The ride to Lusno Falls

As the ride went on, the driver started sharing more info.

Yes, Cambanog Falls was nearby and closer to Dumanjug, just like what Google Maps suggested.

But he also warned us: rides back to Ronda would be limited.

That’s when I remembered the bus we saw earlier.

The one with the “Anajao, Argao” sign.

So we asked.

Was there really a bus from Anajao that could take us back to Cebu City?

He nodded.

And even better, when we arrived in Anajao, he asked around to check the schedule for us.

Another small win.

One more piece of this spontaneous day falling into place.

Now all that was left to figure out was this question.

How do we actually get to Lusno Falls and maybe Cambanog too?

10: 00 AM: The hike to Lusno Falls

Eventually, our driver stopped and said this was as far as he could take us.

So, we got off and started the hike toward Lusno Falls.

A few minutes in, we reached an intersection.

Some kids nearby asked if we needed a guide.

I confidently said no, thinking I could figure it out on my own.

I also asked them for directions to Cambanog Falls after Lusno.

One of the girls pointed to a trail and said to follow that path and turn right.

But when I checked Google Maps, her directions didn’t match the suggested route.

Her way looked more secluded.

Meanwhile, the map told us to head back to the intersection and take a different path.

Then a thought crossed my mind.

Why don’t we just let her guide us?

We’d save time, avoid getting lost, and maybe discover something unforgettable.

And in a way, we’d be helping her and her family too.

So we called her back.

And just like that, we had a young local guide leading us through the trail to Lusno Falls.

We passed by rice paddies and walked alongside views that made the long trip worth it.

In the distance, the mountains stood still, layered in shades of green, watching us move like we belonged there.

10:09 AM: Arrival at Lusno Falls 

Moments later, we arrived at what looked like the makeshift entrance to Lusno Falls.

Then, we paid the Lusno Falls entrance fee or environmental fee, which was only 10 pesos per person.

Led by our guide, we followed the pathway, until we got an overlooking view of the waterfalls.

And guess what?

It was just as stunning as the Lusno Falls photos you see online.

Yes, it’s not as massive and powerful as Casaroro Falls or Mantayupan Falls.

But it’s still picture-perfect.

After snapping a few photos, we descended to the waterfalls, and walked across the flowing water. 

And if there’s one thing I don’t like much about waterfalls, it’s the slippery surface.

At Lusno Falls, you have to carefully watch your step because it’s damn slippery.

Once we crossed the stream, we paused for a moment and took pictures of the waterfall. 

10:30 AM: Enjoying the waterfall 

Most people don’t stay long at Lusno Falls.

They arrive, take a few selfies, maybe dip their feet in, and leave after ten minutes.

Perhaps they came for the reels, the likes, and the proof they were there.

And that’s fine.

I have nothing against people who do those things.

We all have our reasons for traveling.

But if pretty pictures and online praise are all we chase, then the joy fades as fast as the Wi-Fi reconnects.

We, on the other hand, weren’t in a rush.

We didn’t come here for content.

We came to feel something, to feel alive, and to escape the mundane of modern life.

So we stayed longer than most would.

We waded through the cold water, leaned against the slippery rocks, and let the falls pour its voice into the quiet parts of our lives.

No scripts. 

Just the sound of water crashing and the occasional laugh echoing through the trees.

And for a while, we forgot about notifications, deadlines, and everything else waiting back in the city.

We let the current slow us down.

We closed our eyes and looked inward.

And in that stillness, it hit me.

I guess the point of this day trip wasn’t to chase waterfalls, but to remember how to be still in a moving world.

We took turns sitting under the falls, letting the pressure hit our backs like a wild massage chair designed by Mother Nature.

It wasn’t fancy. 

There were no picnic benches, no lifeguards and no souvenir shops.

Just us, the rocks, the trees, and a waterfall that didn’t care if anyone showed up or not.

That’s what made it real.

The perks of moving without a plan

As I sat there, letting the water rinse away more than just sweat and city stress, I thought about what my boss said: Don’t overplan. Just move. We’ll figure it out later.

It sounded reckless in the context of deadlines and deliverables. 

But out here, at the foot of Lusno Falls, it made perfect sense.

Because most days, I do overthink everything.

I build backup plans for my backup plans.

I write to-do lists, and rewrite them to make them more efficient.

Sure, that works for spreadsheets, AI systems, and schedules.

But not for life and not for the moments that actually matter.

Sometimes, you just have to say yes.

You have to start walking, even when the map is blurry.

To jump into the water, even if you’re not sure how deep it is.

To say screw it, and trust your feet.

And to let go of the idea that perfect plans guarantee perfect days.

Because they don’t.

Moving without a solid plan can get messy.

You might get lost.

You might waste time or make the wrong turn.

But that’s the beauty of it.

You adapt, you talk to strangers, and you ask better questions.

And before you know it, you’re learning things no itinerary could teach you.

It sharpens your decision-making skills in ways the office never could.

You learn how to listen to people, to signs, and to instincts.

You get better at reading the room, reading the road, and reading yourself.

And when things go off-course (because they always do), you won’t panic.

You’ll pivot.

You’ll figure it out.

That kind of flexibility isn’t something you’re born with.

It’s something you build through one messy, unplanned adventure at a time.

And the funny thing?

The more I let go of control, the more things started to click.

Not perfectly, but beautifully.

In their own weird, unpredictable way.

And this messy, unplanned adventure was a mirror of what my life once was.

Here’s the thing.

I never had those multi-year plans people talk about in job interviews.

No five-year vision.

No timelines.

Heck, I didn’t even know what course to take after graduating.

I just kept moving.

Clueless? Most of the time.

But curious. Always.

And somehow, that was enough.

I tried things that didn’t work.

I said yes to roles I wasn’t ready for.

I took trips with little money and less of a plan.

And along the way, I made mistakes that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Because those awkward, messy moments, like the what-the-heck-am-I-doing detours, taught me things no school ever did.

I learned how to think on my feet.

How to fail, regroup, and keep going.

How to survive and make plans out of chaos.

I learned that not knowing everything doesn’t mean you’re lost.

Sometimes, it just means you’re still open and adaptable.

And in a world that’s constantly evolving, where uncertainty feels like the only constant, those skills matter more than ever.

Being adaptable isn’t just nice to have anymore.

It’s necessary.

02:03 PM: The hike from Lusno Falls to Cambanog Falls

It was time to bid farewell to Lusno Falls.

After hours of soaking in cold, calming waters, we packed our bags and set out for the next stop: Cambanog Falls.

At first, the hike felt easy.

We passed rice paddies, crossed another shallow stream, and followed a trail that seemed ideal for newbies.

I thought it wouldn’t be a challenge.

But nature always has a way of humbling you.

Soon, the path turned muddier and rougher.

Then came one of those what-the-hell-am-I-doing moments, when our young guide led us across the second tier of a waterfall.

It wasn’t slippery, but it was just risky enough to make your heart race.

Have you ever had to cross a waterfall right by the edge?

Yep. It was that crazy.

We kept going, inching through a narrow stretch.

One wrong step and, well… you wouldn’t want to find out.

After a short scramble down a slippery trail, we finally arrived at the foot of Cambanog Falls.

We let out a laugh and a collective sigh of relief.

We made it. Still standing and still curious.

And as I stood there, watching the water pour endlessly into the pool below, I thought again about what my boss always says: Don’t overthink. Just move.

But here’s the thing.

I didn’t learn that from him.

I learned it from places like this.

From Cebu’s hidden trails. 

From spontaneous hikes that go off-plan. 

And from moments that don’t look impressive on Instagram but teach you invaluable life lessons.

Before the major climbs like Mount Apo, iconic landmarks, and career milestones, I was just a curious local explorer with no itinerary.

All I had was just a pair of worn-out shoes and an insatiable hunger for adventure and simple joys.

And somewhere along the way, I lost that version of me.

But now, that person is making a comeback.

I felt it during my hike to Mount Manunggal.

And I felt it again here, muddy, tired, standing in front of a secret waterfall, far from everything loud.

The truth is, you don’t always need stunning views or see iconic attractions to feel alive.

Sometimes, it’s the small, quiet, unplanned things that stick with you the most.

Like getting lost with friends.

Crossing rivers you weren’t supposed to.

Laughing at dumb mistakes.

And ending up somewhere that feels enough.

I guess contentment isn’t loud or grand.

Maybe it’s not a big, life-altering epiphany.

And perhaps it’s just standing still, in the middle of nowhere, smiling to yourself and thinking, “This is enough.”

Don’t get me wrong.

There’s nothing wrong with chasing big goals or towering peaks.

But learning how to enjoy the simple things might matter more than we think.

Because the older you get, the more you realize that it’s not the grand achievements that keep you going. 

It’s the pauses and the small, quiet joys that remind you life doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful.

How to get to Lusno Falls?

Getting to Lusno Falls is pretty easy these days. Just go to Cebu City South Bus Terminal, and tell the teller that you’re headed to Anajao, Argao. The fare is about ₱150 per person, and travel time is around 3 hours. Once there, ask the locals for directions to the waterfall. It’s within walking distance from the main road. The hike is easy, but some might not find it easy. 

The last trip from Anajao to Cebu City is at 5 PM. So, make sure to wrap up your waterfall adventure at around 4 PM.