Returning to my roots as a tight arse backpacker to get to the US and A from Bangkok I ended up on a Phillipines airline flight which went via Manila, then Vancouver, by bus to Seattle and then on to Denver. Now I have done some long haul flights in my time, but perhaps I was a little out of practice, or a little anxious about getting out of the Phillipines, but the PA fight from Manila to Vancouver was the worst flight of my life - for a number of reasons.
It all began on the flight from Bangers to Manila, having for once remembered to order a vegetarian meal, I was quite pleased with myself until the meal was delivered, and I removed the foil lid from the main serving. Having started my international globetrotting in the 1990's - I was spared the culinary nightmares airlines delivered in the early days, of which I often heard the old hands talk about. Clearly PA did not participate in this revolution, and I was served some rice, bean and other unidentifiable by sight or taste gunk. (Really I should have been forewarned as on an overnight bus ride in Thailand I had the bad luck to sit net to an Irishwoman just back from the Phillipines who went on for hour after hour about how bad the food in the Phillipines was. At the time I thought she was another winging backpacker but as it turns out I could have avoided a dose of giardia if I had of taken her a little more seriously)
Anyway being unable to resist free food - strictly the fare is only for carrying you from point A to point B so the food is free - I somehow forced it alll down - mistake number 1. Thankfully good old iron guts got me through that night and the next day - but when I got back on the plane for the leg to Vancouver and meal time came around - guess what I was served up - yep the same muck as before. And guess what I did again - yep, unable to resist the free food, I forced it down again - mistake number 2. I spent the next 12 hours stuck in an airplane with some of the most painful stomach cramps I have ever had, my stomach bloated up and despite numerous visits to the toilet I just wasn't able to get any relief. The aches were so painful that I struggled to make the distance to the toilet and was unable to get a wink of shut eye - instead was forced to endure the best Hollywood could dish up - a crappy movie about a high school gym teacher and a crappy movie about a magic emporium - both made me want to go to the toilet - but all to no avail. A day later when I arrived in the US the mysterious yet offensive smell that seemed to be following me everywhere I went, no matter what I ate, clearly indicated I had a bad case of giardia.
So not only did PA give me complimentary food but they also gave me, for free, a stomach borne disease. Stand warned, Phillipine Airlines is likely to give you the shits
A travel blog for the thinking clown who has drunk a little too much of the local tap water
FURTHER IMPRESSIONS
After spending a whole 20 hours in Manila I had two extra things to add to my initial impressions. The first is that after visiting Intramuros, literally 'Within the Walls' the colonial part of the city surrounded by 20 foot high, thick, stone walls built in an attempt to protect the continual ransacking of the city by pirates and other colonial powers, I was struck by the overwhelming sense of having arrived a little too late and missed the city in its prime.
Perhaps it is the curse of colonial cities, as I was reminded of the same sort of feeling when I visited a number of old cities in Latin America. (Curiously though Cartagena in Colombia is an exception which stands out, the old city is still full of charm) I started to imagine how the grand buildings must have once been grand, and a city that was full of people rather than drowning under the weight of the noise, pollution and traffic generated by cars.
After thinking about it for a while, I largely the blame lies on the automobile and the refusal of governments to invest in the maintenance of public infrastructure. Cars ruin the charm and cover everything in a black soot which slowly eats away at buildings, which due to lack of investment deteriate more rapidlly than they otherwise would. All in all it generates the feeling of a slow decline and the absence of hope, which is in stark contrast to the cities I had just visited in Malaysia and Thailand. And somehow it seems to rub off on the people as well.
The second was the food, whch in a word was crap, Everywhere I looked there was pig on the spit, and everywhere else was some other form of meat, usually deep fried. The breakfast on offer at the hostel where I stayed was stoggy rice, egg and a choice of 6 different types of meat. After my little incident on the flight with Phillipine Airlines (see below) I might be a little biased, but I don't think you would go for a holiday to the Phillipines for the food.
Perhaps it is the curse of colonial cities, as I was reminded of the same sort of feeling when I visited a number of old cities in Latin America. (Curiously though Cartagena in Colombia is an exception which stands out, the old city is still full of charm) I started to imagine how the grand buildings must have once been grand, and a city that was full of people rather than drowning under the weight of the noise, pollution and traffic generated by cars.
After thinking about it for a while, I largely the blame lies on the automobile and the refusal of governments to invest in the maintenance of public infrastructure. Cars ruin the charm and cover everything in a black soot which slowly eats away at buildings, which due to lack of investment deteriate more rapidlly than they otherwise would. All in all it generates the feeling of a slow decline and the absence of hope, which is in stark contrast to the cities I had just visited in Malaysia and Thailand. And somehow it seems to rub off on the people as well.
The second was the food, whch in a word was crap, Everywhere I looked there was pig on the spit, and everywhere else was some other form of meat, usually deep fried. The breakfast on offer at the hostel where I stayed was stoggy rice, egg and a choice of 6 different types of meat. After my little incident on the flight with Phillipine Airlines (see below) I might be a little biased, but I don't think you would go for a holiday to the Phillipines for the food.
WELCOME TO MANILA - YOU WANT GIRL
First impressions count for a lot, especially when you have less than 24 hours to take in a place as chaotic as Manila. Taking the advice of a fellow traveler I walked out of Manila airport, just as darkness was falling on what was supposed to be a 3 kilometre walk to a nearby hostel. Needless to say, without a map, I took a wrong turn and got a little lost, clearly experience counts for nothing.
The first people I met on my way were a woman and her children pushing a cart which contained their livelihood, concealed
under a piece of plastic. Tourists in the Phillipines are called Joe, presumably after the GI Joe, so I was greeted with the rather confusing, "Hey Joe, what's your name ?" After working her way through the usual questions (age, country, destination) and the introduction of her three children she then asked, "Do you want a women ?" I managed to restrain myself from saying, no thanks I am more a guy kind of bloke, recalling that such an answer usually ends up causing more trouble than it is worth. So instead I conjured up a wife, and was immediately asked where is she, to which I replied, at home working, which thankfully ended that line of discussion, and moved the conversation on to the final topic - "Hey Joe, give me some money". When that didn't work, the children then proceeded down the list, clothes, chocolate, and finally, water - none of which I had, so I was abandoned.
under a piece of plastic. Tourists in the Phillipines are called Joe, presumably after the GI Joe, so I was greeted with the rather confusing, "Hey Joe, what's your name ?" After working her way through the usual questions (age, country, destination) and the introduction of her three children she then asked, "Do you want a women ?" I managed to restrain myself from saying, no thanks I am more a guy kind of bloke, recalling that such an answer usually ends up causing more trouble than it is worth. So instead I conjured up a wife, and was immediately asked where is she, to which I replied, at home working, which thankfully ended that line of discussion, and moved the conversation on to the final topic - "Hey Joe, give me some money". When that didn't work, the children then proceeded down the list, clothes, chocolate, and finally, water - none of which I had, so I was abandoned.So continuing on my way, contemplating the swiftness at which I had been offered a woman (less than 10 minutes in the country) I was struck by how poor a neighbourhood I was in, and how it reminded me of Cuba. In contrast to the meticulous exploitation of footpath space that Thai street vendors engage in, I only encountered randomly and sparsely situated street stalls, with plenty of space to walk in between. What struck me even more was the lack of electrical lighting - most stalls were simply a table with a few odd goods piled on them, with a home made lamp - bottle filled with kerosene, with a rag as a wick, gently illuminating the goods on sale, and casting shadows which danced with the movement of the cars in the background and as the pedestrians passed on the street. The goods for sale, both on the stands and in shops were very limited in both type and quantity, several shops I saw had empty shelves, with one or two things for sale piled together in the middle of the shelf. After the abundance in Thailand it was almost eerily strange, and very Cuba-esque.
The other thing that struck me, almost literally, was the traffic, which due to the American influence was on the right-hand side, and was full of Jeepneys. Apparently Jeepneys are the remnents of the Jeeps the American army used, which the Filipinos talk to heart, and then turned in to a particular art form - both in shape and decoration. Picture a hearse, made of stainless steel polished to reflect as much light as possible and you are almost there - the Jeepney seems to disobey the laws of physics and engineering principles and appears as though the hand of God herself has simply stretched an ordinary car in to a people mover. Then add a supplication to the Lord to protect the driver and vehicle, a name plastered across the windscreen obscuring the view of the said driver, and then cover the rest of the vehicle in coloured paint and neon lights and you have a standard Jeepney.
As I continued on my way (in the wrong direction) I also passed a few stand up urinals, in fact in a stretch of a kilometre I counted five of the beasts . They are bright orange corrugated iron, bent in to two opposing half circles, so you can slip inside and urinate to your hearts content, knowing that only your legs to your knees and above your shoulders can be seen by the world at large. This left me with two questions, why so many and what about the fairer sex (all the urinals were labeled for males)
The last first impression I had was the poverty. Later, after I had been gladly assisted by a very helpful Filipino student who sent me in the right direction, I headed out to dinner. In a stretch of no less than 500 metres I was accosted by about 20 different children, almost all were mostly naked, and were begging for simply a peso - there are about 35 pesos to the Aussie dollar.
And finally, it appears that Danny and
Nicole Kidman would be at home in Manila. Manila is BMX heaven - who would have thought you could adapt the BMX in to a mode of public transport. Enterprising Filipinos have coverted BMXs in to rickshaws, and fang around the smaller streets shuttling passengers here and there with speed , precision and the odd bunny hop.
Nicole Kidman would be at home in Manila. Manila is BMX heaven - who would have thought you could adapt the BMX in to a mode of public transport. Enterprising Filipinos have coverted BMXs in to rickshaws, and fang around the smaller streets shuttling passengers here and there with speed , precision and the odd bunny hop.
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