Mornings at Mari-Rei Nature Park in Casili, Mandaue City, don’t arrive with car horns or city haste. It drifts in on cool mist, the quiet wingbeat of butterflies and the slow rustle of leaves waking. The Japanese-inspired refuge began in 2020 not from an architect’s blueprint but from the patient work of a husband-and-wife team.
Reigh Encabo is an experienced designer; his wife, Maricon, is an environmental engineer with a master’s from Thailand and an environmentalist. When the pandemic stalled the world, they retreated to Maricon’s ancestral lot and found weeds, thickets and a space waiting to be shaped.
From lockdown plot to living canopy
They started small — sweet corn, native chili and water spinach (kangkong) — and slowly built upward. Reigh laid timber paths and handcrafted accents, while Maricon tested soil, sourced seedlings and planned the layers of green. Nearly a hundred Narra seedlings from the local agriculture office gave the place backbone, eventually growing into a mini-forest suited for Shinrin-yoku, the Japanese practice of forest bathing.
The park reads like a quietly curated collage: crimson Torii gates frame a contemplative Buddha; a Catholic grotto and a Sto. Niño shrine tucked into hedges; a whimsical bamboo structure suggests a fairytale turret. “During our travels to Japan, we saw Catholic churches coexisting naturally with traditional spaces,” Reigh said. “A garden can welcome everyone and still be reverent.”
Weathering the storm
That reverence was tested in late 2021, when a super typhoon tore through Cebu and flattened much of the site. The rebuild was stubborn: a year of clearing debris, replanting root by root, and waiting. “It was frustrating,” Reigh said, “but rebuilding slowly taught us resilience.”
Mari-Rei resists spectacle. Instead, timber walkways muffle footsteps, shaded nooks invite a slower pace and subtle sensory moments accumulate — the damp scent after rain, the soft crunch of wood chips, the bright trills of sunbirds. Rescued dogs and cats wander the grounds, moving between shrines, paths and flower beds, adding warmth and a quiet sense of home.
A quiet refuge and gentle retreat
There are playful touches, too. Authentic kimonos are available to rent, lending the place a gentle theatricality for visitors who want to lean into the Japanese inspiration. Mostly, though, people come to sit and breathe. Walk-ins of one to four visitors are welcome with a quick heads-up, while groups of five or more must book in advance to help protect the park’s hush.
What makes Mari-Rei distinct is its blend of the practical and the poetic. Maricon’s environmental instincts shape the plant choices and soil care; Reigh’s craftsmanship is visible in the hand-cut joints and bespoke benches. The garden reads as both made and grown — a lived-in sanctuary rather than an assembled attraction.
Visitor essentials, travel tips
Mari-Rei Nature Park is open Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Walk-ins of one to four visitors are welcome with a quick heads-up, while groups of five or more are encouraged to book ahead to help maintain the park’s quiet atmosphere.
If you go: aim for early morning, when the light is softer and the air cooler. Wear comfortable shoes for timber paths and uneven earth, and bring a light layer for misty days. Take time to listen; the best photographs here are the ones you don’t rush.
Looking ahead, the Encabos plan to keep stewardship in the family, a promise to protect Mari-Rei’s nature-first soul. In Cebu province green spaces are often bent toward commerce; this handcrafted refuge feels like a deliberate act of care — an invitation to step out of the rush and back into a slower life.
