Thriller in Manila
Trip Start
Nov 12, 2008
1
18
49
Trip End
Apr 30, 2009
Manila,
Luzon,
Philippines
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The first lesson in conquering the Philippines (straight out of the Conquistadors Guidebook) is Clark airport is NOT in Manila, despite being called Manila airport by Air Asia. It is to Manila what Oxford is to London. Two and a bit hours later we arrived in Manila itself, dumped in a bus station in the middle of a bustling and way way overpopulated metropolis. This city from the minute you get off the bus is what can best be described as an assault on the senses. It has the customary litter/dirt/shit on the pavements, whole families sleeping rough on the streets, noise noise and more noise. There is always a siren going somewhere. There are armed guards at every shop and building (including Starbucks and 7 Eleven). The Restaurants have signs saying "please leave firearms at the door". Pretty quickly you get the picture - approach Manila with caution. Once you get over the initial shock, you learn lesson two. Manila isn't one city at all, its actually a collection of cities that have grown into the same space. Its huge, and poorly organised. It ranges from swanky(-ish) to downright barrio-esque ghetto. Its always awake, you want to build in Manila, don't bother stopping construction at 5pm, keep going all-through-the-bloody-night!!
Taking a rough old taxi with a passenger door half made out of polyfilla (the lazy bastard didn't even paint over it, it looked like a freshly plastered wall) we made our way to the more salubrious climbs around the American embassy. We're holed up in the Manila Bay Hostel. This is easily one of the weirdest places we have been. The taxi driver had no idea where it was, neither did we. Its easily forgiveable. Housed in a block of apartments, its squirreled away on the fourth floor behind an innocuous front door with a tiny sign. This block is like something out of the 50's, with a touch of the 'Shining' about it. But the rooms are clean, the showers are warm and we never get cold at night, mainly because the 'double bed' we have to share is a double only to those under the age of 7.
If you invest in finding out about it, its really a surprising city. Yesterday through the Razman's hard internet-type endeavours we visited the Artenta Indoor Arena, scene of the famous thriller in manila. Nothing much there to shout about building wise, but inside, it only happened to be hosting the World Championships of Cock Fighting. After being turned away for wearing flip-flops, we managed to purchase a pair of rubber, white shoes that would make a Cuban gangster blush. After being sent away again for wearing a sleeveless top (what was this, the Savoy?) we eventually got in (me wearing size 10 white shoes and a huge LA-Mexican gangster white t-shirt - i looked like I'd escaped from hospital). Inside, no deerhunter type straw hut with sweaty vested Pinos shouting at scaggedy fowl, this was proper sport. The adverts in the programme offered the latest in Cock (ahem) Boosting Feed with true comedy names (you can imagine). 30 seconds before the fight, the place erupts into a betting frenzy, like the trading floor of the stock exchange but louder. Using hand codes and loud, indistiguishable noises, odds are set and bets taken (how I don't know, seems to me you could call for your mates attention and accidently bet 6 thousand Pesos on Erwin the Rooster). The money is exchanged very sensibly and gentlemen like...screw it up and throw it 10 rows away where the bookie is waiting.
After this excitement we checked out Intramuros, the old walled city. This was pretty special, old 16th century buildings, villas and churches in the colonial style. Far from hating their old colonial rulers, the Filipinos seem to love the Spanish and cherish their history. All of this beauty (UNESCO listed no less) was wrapped in a customary warm blanket of Pino squalor, like rats in London, you're never very far away from it anywhere.
Today we spoiled ourselves and played golf. Spotting the golf course yesterday laid out around the fabulous old ruins of Forto Santiago, we enjoyed a days play, tiny Filipino caddies included. The Razman played surprisingly well, a nice place to say you have played your first round of golf in me finks.
Tomorrow we take the overnighter to Vigan, up in the North. Hopefully goodbye to some of the mayhem, bring on fresh air, if my lungs can take it...
