pad si ew & me

Vietnam on film, April 2024. 10 years on and this country still amazes me.

After getting lost in the maze of markets around Quiapo Church, we hopped on a Jeepney to take us back into Malate. The ride was crowded, muggy and slow as we stopped to let more people than could possibly fit into the back of the bus, but it was amazing to see the city go by from a local perspective.

Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene (Quiapo Church), Quiapo City 23.08.16

Quiapo Markets, 23.08.16

The next morning, after our standard iced coffees from Starbucks, we got an uber over to the china town district to eat some BBQ pork buns and eventually walk over to the last church on my list, to see the Black Nazarene. Chinatown, Manila 23.08.16

After a day in the sun, and a weird drama with our trike driver, we decided to spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing at our hostel. After a nap, we hung out on the rooftop bar drinking frozen cocktails and went to the cinema for a bit of normality in the hectic city.

Pastel buildings, ruins and gardens around the edge of Intramuros.

Cathedral of Manila and San Agustin Church, two of the most important churches in Intramuros and Manila in general.

Standing on Balaurte de Sta. Barbara, looking out over Pasig River from Fort Santiago 22.08.16

After the best sleep I'd had all trip, Nic and I got up relatively early and found another hostel for the rest of our stay in Manila. After a quick coffee and a wander through the shopping mall at the end of our street, we hopped in an uber and went to explore Intramuros, a walled district full of Spanish colonial ruins just north of Malate.

At the tiny airport in Puerto, we used the free wifi to book one night in a hostel in Malate while we got our bearings in Manila. On our first night in The Philippines we’d stayed in Makati, a hip and business-class area full of small bars, yuppie hangouts and skyscrapers. Malate is a very different scene- while definitely still tourist-friendly, it has a much more local feel. Houses and student dorms are dotted in between businesses and shopping centres, kids and dogs play in the streets, street food carts shuffle around with tricycles and taxis and jeepneys, and for three days we didn’t see a single other white person.

Upon arrival at our hostel, we dropped our bags and went in search of something to eat. We settled on a hole-in-the-wall sort of resto with plastic chairs and cold beer, and shared a giant plate of noodles as well as some BBQ pork - very Filipino. Just as we were finishing up, a heavy patch of rain ripped through the streets and three tiny girls ran into the shop, absolutely saturated, looking for shelter and food. A wealthy pinoy couple sitting closer to the street bought them a bottle of water to share, and we all offered them our left-over food. They pulled up chairs and directed the staff around like little street princesses, eating with their hands and grinning the whole time. As soon as he rain stopped they bolted again, and Nic and I used the opportunity to wander back for an early night. 

After several hours of near-horizontal rain and the roaring wind and ocean, Nicola and I were growing restless and frustrated. We didn’t have set plans except for a flight from Puerto Princesa to Manila on the 25th, which was still four days away, and the cabin fever was already setting in. In a bout of spontaneity we decided to ask at the reception desk if there were any spots on the next mini-van from Port Barton to Puerto. After a quick phone call it was confirmed that yes, there was room… but ‘next van’ meant less than twenty minutes until we’d be on our way so we had to decide fairly quickly what our next move would be. Some new friends were planning to take an island tour but everything was being cancelled for the day, so to stay in Port Barton would be a waste of time. I felt like we’d already exhausted our options in Puerto, plus the weather would be rubbish there too.

With only a few minutes to spare before the van arrived, we’d bought two cheap tickets on a flight to Manila and would be in the big smoke before the end of the day.

Port Barton, Palawan 20.08.16

After sunset, the weather started to go downhill pretty quickly. We ate at our guesthouse, and spent the night hiding from the rain in the two-storey wall-less bamboo bungalow that acted as the restaurant/foyer/wifi area. Every so often a huge gust of wind would blow thick raindrops horizontally through the bungalow, a nice break from the heat. We eventually headed to our room and blasted the aircon, hoping to keep cool once the electricity stopped at midnight. It didn't work. Between the creaky walls in the wind and our room being a literal sauna, we both lay wide eyed at 4am with no hope of getting back to sleep. After a while we decided to go back to the communal area where we knew it was cooler and wait for the breakfast to start at a few hours later.

Cheeky kids on the beach at Port Barton, cracking open coconuts and various tree nuts to snack on. 20.08.16

Knowing we'd be leaving El Nido the next day, we hoped the poor weather would trade us places and that we'd get a few more days of sun. After a seamless journey, we arrived in Port Barton and found a room at a beachfront assortment of bungalows and a-frame cottages. We spent the afternoon wandering the length of the beach, chatting with local kids and eyeing off the budding storm clouds on the horizon.