The unsung Philippines

By Tom Booth

updated 9:00 p.m. ET Aug. 31, 2005

Not long ago, after spending ten splendid but pricey days in Hong Kong, I responded to bittersweet memories of the Philippines and booked myself out on a flight to Manila. It was a short run and two hours later found me walking through Manila's shabby International Airport (plans are afoot to modernize it) toward the terrorist inspired obligation of Immigration-Customs. This matter, while it went slowly, was accomplished by pleasant, but no nonsense officials.

Beyond that barrier of necessity, old memories took over. There behind metal screens stood the same hordes of people I remember from earlier days, a multitude of folks who were there for either goodbyes or greetings. Beyond them was the unchanged melee of taxi and bus lines. Here, as always, there are no worries about finding transport into town. Taxi drivers and "shuttle bus" operators will seek you out. But as a word of advice, do not let a driver attempt to place your baggage in his vehicle without first establishing a destination fare. For example, going to the center of town by regular taxi will run about $6; a "shuttle bus" will be about $2.50.

My destination was the Ermita-Malate district, near the center of town, an area rich with accommodations, restaurants, lively bistros, and easy access to the upscale attractions of Makati, to the ancient walled city of Intramuros, and to the happy throbbing of Chinatown. My taxi driver, who found it curious, that I declined his offer of female companionship, drove me through the Manila I remembered - a ten million population collection of communities that make up what is known as "The Best and Worst of S.E. Asian Cities". In a near bedlam of traffic we moved through ultra smart shiny sections, through pestilential shanty areas, past sprawling malls, and finally we pulled up at the Swagman Hotel and the driver charged me an amiable 5$U.S.

The Swagman Hotel, which had, with tongue in cheek I'm sure, been recommended by a friend in Hong Kong was an actively happy place. It is, however, not the sort of hotel I would suggest to the more sedate of travelers, perhaps with children. This place, with a somewhat earthy appeal, is at $43 a single or double, a good bargain, and as its name implies, has a strong connection to Australians.

It was there in its animated bar that I fell in with congenial companions, a mixture of, mostly Australian men, their attentive Filipina girl friends, and a collection of other nubile young ladies who had not yet formed a friendship. Noise and hilarity reigned that evening, which was further enlivened by the appearance of two new - newspaper advertised - brides who were meeting their Australian husbands for the first time. The ensuing celebration was what the Aussies call, "A Tie Your Kangaroo Down," sort of party.

Kindred spirits to whom such a place has merit will do well by placing themselves on the Swagman's mailing list. This will keep them aware of such in house activities as "Wet T Shirt" competitions, Mardi Gras celebrations, and trips to a variety of provincial areas for "Chili Cook Offs," snorkeling, cockfights plus the promise of thirst quenching good times. To get on the mailing list contact them at 411 A Flores St., Ermita, Manila, The Philippines. Or by E Mail at -

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I spent two nights there, and while activity in the bar-dining room was great good fun and my room adequate, two nights of frivolity was enough. So I left and moved into a nearby hotel, the Royal Palm, that at the same price provided a more sedate environment - and with the full gamut of amenities. It's the sort of place where non-ribald travelers, perhaps with their children, will be happy.

From my new quarters, and with the aid of Manila's variety of transportation - taxis, jeepneys, and trishaws - I moved about this vibrant city quickly and inexpensively. But for getting around in Manila I would advise visitors to use the comfort of taxis, for the short haul this will cost about $1.25. Save the inexpensive jeepneys and trishaws for use in provincial areas.

So it went for me, and for four more days I arose at a civilized hour and leisurely set out. One day I strolled about the museums and ancient churches in the old walled city of Intramuros. Another day I wandered through the narrow an aromatic streets of nearby Chinatown, and when hunger appeared I restored myself with Lumpia (spring rolls), fried noodles, pressed Mandarin Duck and washed it all down with icy San Miguel beer.

And, on one of those days I let nostalgia guide me into Manila's most famous hotel - the Manila Hotel. This is where General MacArthur, in the days before World War II lived for six years- and it is here in his suite you can now stay for the modest price of $1,800 per night. The other rooms in this beautiful old hotel are priced from $307 a double to a suite, which may be yours for $2,400. I settled for lunch only, and in the comfortable excellence of the Cowrie Grill I enjoyed the extravagance of a glass of wine and a fine seafood offering.

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