A Tale of Winter

What to do? Where to go? How long where? What will I miss? These are the problems that face the traveller who is so short of time. After all, apart from a couple of months or so in the summer, I had got used to the idea of having time to travel round the world in winter. So what is a man to do with a mere three weeks holiday this winter.

Off to the Philippines for a few days warmth (not to say sweat) and indolence, that is what.

Manila is rather an odd place. To look at the map and consider its place in modern political terms you expect a big city. That is what you get to a large extent but that is not what it feels like. There is a distinctly Caribbean touch about the place. Quite a lot of petty hassling about nothing in particular but not enough to be really irritating; nice and warm and quite humid but not really oppressive; people of various skin colours but nothing definitely black or definitely white (I was red); lots of sugar everywhere; poor roads and indifferent driving; nothing much happens before 9.30 or 10 in the morning (and bars only livening up 12 hours later); service most charitably described as indifferent; bad, unimaginative food – you name it, it could be the Caribbean. I liked it.

You could not describe the city as non-descript because the Spanish had left quite a clear stamp on the place; this has given some of the streets and buildings some character. Fortunately when the country was an American colony in the first half of the 20th century no such imprint was left on construction but you will guess that the cultural impact was very strong. However, to come back to the Caribbean idea the music is quite vibrant but not to my taste and certainly not up to Cuban standards.

So why did I like it?

I abhor racism and it is difficult for people to be racist in such a mixture of skin colours.

I understand that everybody has to make a buck and so a bit of hassling by the poor (most locals) in an attempt to get money off the rich (me) is OK. That is not to say that I like it but this is not the streets of Cairo or Delhi – the level of hassling was OK.

I like sitting drinking beer in shorts and T-shirt watching the sun go down.

There is plenty of colour. Harmonious – no. Garish – yes. I like garish. The main form of transport for most people is the Jeepney. The name derives from the US version of the Land Rover that was ubiquitous towards and after the end of the Second World War in this part of the world. The yanks left but these decrepit vehicles did not. They were converted to “people carriers” that is put a couple of benches in the back down each side so they overhang the rear axle but a metre or so, add a roof of sorts, paint in many colours, add large lights (used very sparingly) plus a big horn (used on every opportunity or sometimes just for the hell of it), hang things around for your good luck (this is a largely Catholic country) and – hey presto- you have a 12 – or 16 - or 20 or? seater people transportation device. If there is no room inside there is always the back to hang on to. The “modern” versions are not derived directly from jeeps but have the same concept behind them. In their ability to keep these things running forever the Philippinoes share the same resourcefulness as their fellow onlookers in the Spanish-American war at the end of the 19th century – the Cubans.

Cheap. Almost everything is comparable to China – hence cheap by western standards. Accommodation is a bit more than China – a decent room with a shower can easily cost you 15 or 20 Euros but the food is cheap as are taxis (once you check that they are on the clock – they will try and come up with some “fixed price “ bullshit at times. If you don’t like it get out.) A 200 kilometre bus journey will cost a couple of euros at most.