Crazy Manila
It's an early start, 5:30am. Coron feels more awake than we are. We're off to Francisco B. Reyes airport. Our van leaves dark and dusky Coron, the sunrise breaks to reveal the misty countryside. A lovely spot for the airport, in which we to say farewell to the Palawan islands and hello to bustling Manila. After a quick weigh in, bags and bodies. We are off. Hearts heavy to be leaving the magic of Tao behind.
Oomph hello again Manila. You are crazy. The type of crazy that can't be contained. Fortunately we've met before and have planned ahead, thanks AirBnb. Our haven for the day is at the Celadon Towers. A little vacuum from the heat, noise, dust... And crazy. Till our overnight bus north.
Across the road is SM San Lazaro, one of the many malls in Manilla and one of many SM properties owned by a Chinese billionaire, we're told by our taxi driver. For us, the mall is equal parts vacuum and fish bowl.
The mall is an air conditioned haven, that feels both more and less safe given the security guards at every entry point. However we soon feel watched, not by security thankfully, but by the locals. Passing glances turn to pretend-selfies to share with friends and loved ones later. Clearly we are in foreign waters, even when surrounding ourselves with a few home comforts, like Starbucks for breakfast and Wendy's for dinner. Perhaps our delicate white flesh makes us a rare breed. Something is downright fishy here.
As our day in Manila comes to a close, so does the mall. It's 9pm. There are no signs, signals or sirens but people are pouring down the escalators, shop doors are closing, lights are being switched off. It all seems far to synchronised for crazy Manila.
As we exit the mall, we see a long winding queue has formed for taxis with none in sight. Waiting is not an option, our overnight bus departs at 10pm and we need to be on it. Ten steps further and we find ourselves at the curb, faced with tricycles, tricycles and tricycles. We can barely contain ourselves, could a tricycle?
The sharks are out and foreign fish are fare game. Game on, five against one and Randy won't go without fight, "We won't fit in one, look at our backpacks, 300 pesos is too much, it should only take five minutes, we need to get there fast, do you know where you're going?" Our feet are teetering on the curb of crazy. Vroom vroom vroom, full speed ahead... The fastest shark around on a tricycle fuelled by 150 pesos, a Kiwi-fish on the back, an American-fish with backpacks on the side.
Do we fit? Barely. Do we fit in? Yes. The roads here seem to be built on crazy, the traffic signals countdown to it. Three, two, one, full-blown c r a a a z y. Traffic swerves, honks and barks into every available space. Every vehicle, man, woman, child, dog, and fish for themselves. There is no shouting but this isn't polite nor quiet. Push or be pushed. We hold our breath but keep our eyes open. Swim, swim, swim.
Our arrival at the bus station in Sampaloc feels sudden, unexpected. We barely take a breath to hand over 150 pesos and thank our shark for the safe passage. The station is situated on a busy corner that can hardly hold two buses, they spill out onto the street and block traffic to manoeuvre into their spots. Passengers vie for space in a small dimly lit room. Ohayami we're told are the bus company of choice for our overnight journey north. As we take another breath our hopes are high.
Upon boarding, we find the shiny exterior of our Ohayami bus belies its shabby interior and our grubby seats are equally too close and too short for fish from foreign waters. As more passengers pile in, our surroundings unexpectedly go from tight to constricting. Extra seats fold-down and across the aisle, unwelcoming to both the late comers who fill them and their fellow passengers. Our aisle is no longer a hallway to freedom.
Here we lay, bodies bound by the seats of other passengers, semi-reclined in air conditioned filth. There is no doubt that it is time to pop a sleeping pill and float off into la-la-land. Take us far far away for as long as you can, from crazy...
