Charles Apple

SATURDAY, 6 P.M.

What a wonderful day around town we’ve had.

Kris decided to sign up for the same half-day tour of the city that I had planned. We met downstairs just in time to see our pal Tonia off for her ride to the airport. She’ll arrive in Toronto about the time Kris and I fly out of Manila early Sunday.

Our car took us across town to the business district, which they call Makati. We picked up two other tourists, a man from Singapore and a Korean lady who lives in Portland, Oregon. Then, they took us to the World War II U.S. military graveyard nearby, on the east side of Manila.

The place seemed very much like Arlington National Cemetery, for obvious reasons. There were thousands of stone crosses — 17,206, I’m told — lined up on the rolling hills, with the occasional Star of David mixed in.

As usual, click on the thumbnail for a larger view:

The coolest thing I saw there: Inside the memorial buildings were giant murals depicting key events of the battle in the Pacific: The Battle of Leyte Gulf; the Battle of the Philippine Sea; the Battle of Midway; the retaking of the Philippines by MacArthur, and so on. These suckers were huge — 30 or 40 feet across.

There I was, side-by-side with the editorial director of National Geographic Maps, standing at the foot of the biggest map I’ve ever seen. There’s some kind of “coals to Newcastle” joke in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to fish it out.

Next, they drove us by the Mall of Asia — the third time I’ve seen the place — but the tour guide explained how the place was built on land reclaimed from Manila Bay. Then we drove past other landmarks also built on the reclaimed area — the film center, the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the Coconut Palace.

The latter has an interesting history. Imelda Marcos had the Coconut Palace built to house Pope John Paul II during his visit here in the 1980s. Offended by the flagrant opulence of the joint, the Pope refused to come near the place. Marcos used it to occasionally house her alleged boytoy, actor George Hamilton. We didn’t go in. But it was nice to see where it was.

We stopped at Rizal Park, where national hero Jose Rizal was executed in 1896. A monument there is protected with an honor guard. Across the street is a monument to the national animal, the water buffalo. Our guide told us we couldn’t leave the Philippines without a toy jeepney and a small, wooden carved water buffalo.

By now, we were back within site of our home-away-from-home, the Manila Hotel. I’ve posted about it before, but basically, for nearly a century, it’s been the most prestigious hotel in the region. Heads of state stay here when they visit Manila. This is the place to hold wedding receptions, as we have seen many times this week. As I type this in the wifi-equipped hotel bar, a big graduation party for nurses is going on in the lobby.

The lobby pianist is playing “I Write the Songs.” Bruce Johnston rawks, dude!

Anyway, Gen. Douglas MacArthur had his headquarters here in the years before the war. When the Japanese took over Manila, they used the MacArthur suite as a headquarters. I’m told they wrecked the place when they left, so the current suite is a reconstruction.

We then went to Intramuros, the old 400-plus-year-old Spanish-built walled city in the center of old Manila and directly across the street from my room here at the Manila Hotel.

Our first stop in the walled city was a state-run store that sold only crafts made by Filapinos. I had already bought a few souvenirs, but the prices were so good and the folks there were so nice that we couldn’t resist. I found a nice book of Manila in World War II that fascinated me. We also picked up the obligatory jeepney and water buffalo. Perhaps they’ll let us leave the country tomorrow after all.

The old Spanish fort in Intromuros, Fort Santiago, was fabulous.  Lillypads line the old moat in front of the gate. Again, click for a larger view:

We saw a beautiful statue of Rizal, the prison where he was held by the Spanish and even brass footprints that show where he was marched through the fort and down the street to his execution.

Lower-level storage areas in the old fort tended to flood at low tide. We were told the Japanese used these chambers as dungeons. They’d lock in captives, who would then drown when the tide rose.

Across the Passig River from the old fort is another downtown area of Manila, called Quiapo. The buildings weren’t as new or as spiffy as what we saw across town. But it was still very interesting.

Like much of the rest of the city, Intramuros was damaged horribly by the Japanese during the war. Our guide told us the city had been devastated by typhoons, by volcanoes and by earthquakes. If it wasn’t nature smiting this country, it was its regional enemies.

Walking atop the wall.

We has quite a bit of time to poke around and take photos. As I type this, four hours later, I’m amazed neither Kris nor I seem to be sunburnt. Man, was it hot and humid. The sun is brutal here in the Philippines.

I got awfully dehydrated. Kris took pity on me and found a vendor of bottled water.

Wild cats and chickens roam the old fort.

We stopped to check out a couple of old cathedrals before we headed back to the hotel. Kris and I ate a veggie pizza and a burger, respectively, in the hotel restaurant while I tossed back a lot of fluids.

Those green mango drinks are very cold and very tasty. But why are they named after Susan Mango Curtis?

Kris and I debated what to do next. We thought out hitting the pool, but man, you wouldn’t believe how damn humid it is here today. The air conditioning felt so good that we decided to retrieve our laptops. She’s working while I blog here in the Taproom, the Manila Hotel’s lobby lounge. She’s very kind to allow me to tag along.

While I was in my room, I found a note from the front desk: Someone had left me a package at the front desk. It was a very rare — at least in the U.S. so far — Star Wars action figure. Mike and Angel from Singapore must have found it at the mall and decided to give it to me. I can’t think of when I’ve been so touched.

Our plane leaves very early — 6:45 a.m. The hotel says they’ve already arranged for a driver to take us back, but we’ll need to check out by 3:15 a.m. Egads.

We go from here to Nagoya, Japan, where we have about a 90-minute layover before we set out for Detroit. There, Kris and I will split up — Kris flying to Dulles airport in D.C. and me going back to Norfolk. I hope to arrive around 3;30 p.m. Sunday. I imagine I’ll be tired as hell.

Wish me luck.

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