Escaping the city

My last Saturday in Manila was the perfect opportunity to get OUT of the city and see some of the countryside. My willing tour guide for the day was the Manila team leader, a girl with whom I’ve become rather close during my time here. We’ve bonded over our Starbucks addictions caused by early morning shifts, and I was excited to spend a day hanging out with her.

We got on the road around 9am and headed south. Traffic was, as it usually is in Manila, congested. But once we got outside the limits of Metro Manila, the road opened up, as did the scenery. The farmland, rice fields and small villages are a relief to look at after the concrete jungle of the city. It was about 2 hours before we reached our destination. Along the way we saw squatter villages – little shantytowns by the side of the road populated with half-dressed, dirty adults and children selling whatever they can in an attempt to make some cash. We saw the pineapple fields laid out across rolling hills, and the pinapple stalls selling not only the fruit, but the juices, liquers, and wooden knickknacks from the pineapple plants. We also saw store after store of freshly constructed wooden furniture, made in the local region from natural timbers. This stuff is what you’d see in our boutique furniture dealers in Sydney, stamped with a fancy brand name and sold for a premium price. The air smelled like freshly cut wood.

Tagaytay

Our destination was Tagaytay – a popular vacation spot for Filipinos. Tagaytay is situated on the ridge of an ancient, inactive volcano and looks down into Lake Taal, which contains the Taal Volcano. A volcano within a volcano – a site I’d read about and was looking forward to visiting. We turned left when we hit town and headed towards the less-populated areas. We visited the People’s Park, which offers an amazing view of the valley, lake and volcano itself. When we first arrived, thick fog clouded our view. But as we walked around the jungle trails in the park, the clouds gradually rolled away to reveal the volcano out in the lake, like a mystical island.


As usual, we were followed by hordes of people wanting to sell us everything from zipline rides to boat rides out to the volcano. All the prices were hiked up to cater to the many tourists visiting the area, so we didn’t bother, and stuck to walking around the area instead.

We also drove along the ridge until we couldn’t drive any further. There were some great views out either side – the lake and volcano to our right, and the open valley full of farm land to our left.


Lunch was a rather late affair, at a restaurant called Lesley’s, which looked out across the lake and volcano. We tried bulalo, a beef soup made from a giant beef bone;, pinakbet, eggplant, bitter melon and okra sautéed in pork fat and shrimp paste; and finally seafood bicol express, sliced chillies and random seafood in coconut milk. NOM.

It was a pretty relaxing day compared to my previous adventure, but it was nice to kick back, relax and chat for a day to recover from what had been a pretty shitty week

An urban adventure

Tired of the endless shopping trips and sitting by the pool, I decided to take things into my own hands. I woke up early on a Saturday morning and headed out for an urban adventure in metro Manila. Not content to take the easy road and get a cab into the city, I managed to get some fairly good directions from the hotel staff about taking trains. So armed with my camera and Lonely Planet guide, I figured I was set.

Manila has several different train lines that run through the various parts of the city. The MRT line runs through Makati, and the station is only a short walk from my hotel. I managed to navigate my way through the station, work out where I had to travel to and how much my ticket would cost. Being Saturday, I figured the trains wouldn’t be so busy. That was true for the outward trip (more on that later). I hopped on a train with relative ease, and travelled several stops to the LRT line in Pasig City, which runs generally north-south through the parts of the city I wanted to visit. My aim was to hit Luneta – a large public park in the centre of the city – and Intramuros – the old Spanish walled city, then anywhere else I encountered along the way.

As per my scrap of paper with its scribbled instructions, I jumped off the train at United Nations station. Upon exiting, I immediately encountered a throng of stallholders calling out to passers-by, selling everything from toasted nuts to cleaning products. A white face is an immediate cue to begin calling out louder and more enthusiastically, and I felt a little like I had wandered into a sporting match in which I was the star competitor! I crossed the road quickly and ducked into a Wendys to consult my Lonely Planet guide (I may be a tourist, but I’m not dumb enough to look lost out on the street). Luneta was only a short walk away, so I headed back out on the streets. The route I took was relatively deserted, apart from some gangs of small kids running around shoeless, and holding up their hands for spare change. Not wanting to gain a band of eager followers, I politely declined and continued on my way.

Luneta

The vast open space and leafy green of Luneta was a breath of fresh air after navigating through the rabbit warren of little, dirty, rubbish-lined streets that surround the park. Luneta is a wide avenue of green that runs in an east-west direction from the centre of the city out to a grandstand at Manila Bay. I entered at one end and strolled through. My white skin, as usual, made me the receiver of many curious stares. I should mention that one thing I’ve noticed here, is the complete lack of tact from the starers. At home, when you catch someone staring at you, a look is enough for the starer to break their gaze and look off into space again. Not so in Manila. You can be looking directly at the person, and they will continue to stare, looking you up and down until you wonder what the hell they’re finding so interesting!

As I wandered through the park, I came across a giant statue of the Filipino national hero Jose Rizal. Rizal was part of the resistance against Spanish rule in the Philippines, and wrote a great many poems and essays advocating. He was eventually captured by the Spanish and executed for sedition. When the Spanish were finally overthrown by the efforts of the army led by Andres Bonifacio and Emilio Aguinaldo, both these men and Rizal were revered for their contribution to the nation. The Filipinos actually have a public holiday in August each year in which they remember national heroes. As you can imagine, these guys are right up there.


Further into the park, I came across a huge man-made pool bordered on two sides by coloured flags, and giant busts of previous leaders of the nation. Off to the sides of the pool were groves of trees dotted with chess tables. Locals rested in the shade, chilling out and playing games of chess over a drink or two. There were a few specialty gardens – a Japanese garden and a butterfly house – but I didn’t make it in once I saw the entry fee! I did manage to sneak into the old abandoned Orchidarium when the guard stepped away from his post. It was like creeping into another world – huge trees hung over the pathways, their roots and branches weaving a moving ceiling overhead. Dirty old statues and an abandoned stone courtyard told of a previous time when people would visit and spend time viewing the garden. Vines grew over the garden walls and buildings, adding beauty to the abandoned structures.


National Museum

From Luneta, I wandered around some back streets heading in what I thought was the general direction of Intramuros. I’d been outside for a couple of hours now, and the midday heat was STRONG. My motion through the streets was more like flowing than walking, I was that drenched in sweat. My saviour was stumbling across the doors of the National Museum! In an attempt to escape the exhausting heat, I paid my entry fee and spent a couple of hours looking at exhibits detailing the history of the Filipino people. Seems that there’s evidence of early man all over the archipelago, and many of the archaeological findings were on display.

Somewhat refreshed, I emerged from the museum and began the trek to Intramuros. I had NO idea where I was going, but figured if I headed in the general direction I’d be able to make it. I traipsed up the main road heading north, choking on the fumes of all the cars, jeepneys and tricycles that crowded the streets. At points the footpath disappeared, and I was forced to wander up the side of the busy road, like the locals do :p I saw the Manila City Hall, and one of the largest transit terminals in Metro Manila – the Park and Ride. I stretched 8 lanes on each side, with underground tunnels leading to the different platforms from which you can take public transport in any direction. I braved the underground tunnel – there was no way I was going to attempt a dash across the busy road!

Intramuros

The word “intramuros” means “within the walls”, and I was soon to discover why. Huge stone walls greeted me at the entrance to the city. When it was first built, Intramuros was the original part of the city –the place where all the wealthy white citizens dwelt (yup, in the 1600s you had to be legally classified as “white” to live there). The walls were built to keep enemies and rabble out. The architecture within is predominantly Spanish. Some of it is equisitely preserved, and you feel like you are wandering down a cobble-stone street somewhere in Europe instead of in South East Asia. Old iron lampposts line the streets, and lanterns dangle from many of the buildings. I walked north towards the topmost end of the city until I reached Manila Cathedral. As I walked, I was constantly hassled by the Calesa (horse and cart) drivers, and pedicab drivers who were absolutely desperate to offer me a “good price” to take me on a tour around the city. I waved them all on and kept walking, until I came across a gathering of Calesa near the cathedral. I figured I had more of a chance of getting a fair deal if the drivers were competing with one another for my attention.


My driver was awesome – he explained a lot of the history of the town, and showed me all of the sights. There are a lot of original buildings in Intramuros, but there are also a lot of ruins. Much of the city was destroyed when the Japanese fought the Americans and Filipinos in the Battle of Manila Bay in WW2. You can see bulletholes in all the walls, and in many places they are completely destroyed. Many of the buildings in the city were converted to prisons by the Spanish and Japanese during their periods of occupation, so there are a lot of barred windows also.


After my Calesa ride, my very friendly driver dropped me at Fort Santiago – the northernmost part of Intramuros along the Pasig River. This is the place where Jose Rizal was imprisoned during his last days before his execution. The site is mostly ruins, but Rizal’s cell is preserved, along with a museum and shrine in his honour. You can also climb the walls and look out on the Pasig River towards the north, tour the old dungeons and walk across the old parade grounds.

North of the River

After a brief rest in a Spanish prison turned Starbucks, I continued on my way north. I crossed the Pasig river and entered into Binondo. Back in the day, this area was a centre of Chinese trade in Manila, so there are a great many Chinese restaurants, herbal stores, and jewellery dealers. There are also a lot of street markets selling food, clothing and other knick knacks. The traffic is uber-congested all through Binondo. Anything larger than a motorcycle or tricycle doesn’t move, and the air is thick with smog and the sounds of beeping horns. It was at this point that the sky started getting dark. Quickly. In a matter of minutes, the heavens opened, and I was left scrambling for cover beneath the sheets of driving rain. I found a Starbucks to shelter in and consult my Lonely Planet guide. By this time it was about 4pm, and would get dark soon. I didn’t want to be stranded in the city on my own after dark, so I decided to head home.

I walked back the way that I came. There was precious little shelter, and I was soon drenched from head to toe. The puddles in places were ankle-deep, so crossing the road was a matter of getting a run-up, taking a flying leap and hoping that I made it! A couple of failed attempts meant my shoes as well as my clothes were rather squelchy. Totally lost and soaked through, I eventually gave up walking and looked for some form of transport. I was saved by the appearance of a tricycle driver around the corner, who was able to take me back to the train. Or so I thought. Our first attempt at crossing the river was a fail. As soon as he turned his vehicle uphill, the engine cut out. He restarted it using a pullcord similar to one might use on a lawnmower and tried again. Another fail, and dodgy brakes meant that we were not only not going forward, but we were also rolling rapidly backwards downhill!! He managed to start the tricycle again, and traversed across to the next bridge which was a little flatter. Something I should mention about tricycles – the sidecar that the passenger sits in has a metal mesh floor. This is nice and airy on a fine day. But on a wet day, larger vehicles cause those ankle deep puddles to flow like waves across the road, all the way over the “floor” of the sidecar and up the passengers legs! I spent most of the ride laughing hysterically as wave after wave of dirty water hit my feet and legs. Here's my soggy wet feet enjoying the ride :p


After only 6 or 7 breakdowns, my tricycle driver delivered me to the train station in one very wet piece. I jumped on a train heading back south towards home. Well...tried to jump. 5pm Manila time is rush hour, and this is very evident when trying to use public transport. There is no moving out of the way to let passengers move on and off the train. Everyone struggles and climbs over each other in an attempt to pack into the already tightly packed carriage. They have a ‘womens carriage’ especially for women travelling alone or with children, so I found my way to that and piled in. Standing over a foot above most people in the train, I felt very sorry for those people who had the misfortune to be standing next to me. Soaking wet, and rather smelly from my day out, and with armpits exactly at nose-height for my fellow travellers!!

The train trip went smoothly, and I made it back on both train lines to the hotel. I was very proud of my achievements – I managed not to get too horribly lost, rode 3 types of public transport without (too much) mishap, and didn’t manage to get robbed or kidnapped. Upon regaling my workmates of my adventure on Monday, I discovered that I’d done just about everything a tourist “shouldn’t” do...but I’d survived and was thoroughly happy to have finally seen something of the city.

My day's route.