After a bout of uncharacteristic indecision, I decided I will take my vacation in The Philippines. I guess in the end I just wanted to do something completely different for a few weeks. The Philippines is warm, cheap, far away, and in theory should be easy to navigate since they speak English. The seeds for my interest in checking out The Philippines started a few years ago I was traveling around Southeast Asia. One of the places fellow travelers kept telling me that I had to check out was The Philippines. They said it was full of friendly people, and a heckuva lot of fun to boot. Well, it took me a few years, but I finally heeded their advice and made it here.
But first let’s rewind the clock a bit. I’m asleep in my shoebox of a room back in NYC. My alarm goes off promptly at 7:45am and I wake up right away - knowing I’m on a tight schedule. In the next 3 hours I manage to feed myself, shower, pack(!), take 3 subways, pass through security, and walk to my gate at JFK. My first flight is over 12 hours, and takes me to Narita Airport in Tokyo. I marvel at the culture that is Japan, and scarf down disgusting airport yakitori, before boarding the second leg to Manila.
A short flight later, and I am finally here in Manila. The first thing I notice when I walk out of the plane is how warm it is outside. With the wind chill it felt like -10 degrees back home, but is a balmy 77 degrees at night in Manila. Although I’m exhausted after 27 hours of traveling I feel strangely invigorated. I now get to spend two weeks doing whatever I want. I get to live whatever kind of life I want. I know no one here, there are no expectations of me, no one to please, no one to disappoint. Only strangers that could become friends, and memories to be made. My love of travel suddenly rushes back into my mind. All I see are possibilities.
I exchange my dollars for pesos, and take a taxi to my hostel. The driver has been driving people around for longer than I’ve been alive. Despite not knowing how to actually get to my hostel (it took like an hour and numerous stops asking for directions), he was a master at all the tricks. First, he tries to get me to stay at a different hotel, then he tries to take me to some seedy nightlife spots, and when we finally arrive at my hostel, he ends up insisting I pay double the prevailing rate. I’m too tired to do argue, am just glad I’m about to get some sleep. Welcome to The Philippines indeed.
As I walk up the stairs to my hostel, I notice there is a 24 hour Korean BBQ restaurant in the same building. The nasty yakitori and downright awful Japan Airlines food have left me starving. Rather than go to bed hungry, I go to bed full after eating a meal meant for an entire Filipino family - for only about $10.
I finally get into my bed, and lay down - smiling just thinking of what I’ll be able to do here. But my smile would soon turn into something else entirely. One of the other people staying in my room had way too much fun that night, and spent about 2 hours vomiting in the toilet in our bathroom. It briefly made me wonder if at 29 I’m too old for hostels - but I tabled that thought. I went to the common area, and tried to make the most of it by planning out some fun things to do while I’m here. I had a few good leads for activities and food, and once all the vomiting was over, I was finally able to rest, and slept like a baby.