Part one:
This trip was designed for three things: take a little side trip with my then-boyfriend, get my paperwork for renewing my passport started, and take advantage of a coupon that came with my HolidayInn special people club card. Well, as we know I broke up with the man, and thus our adventure begins.
When I went to Cebu, I took the bus after work, and also home, going through Manila to get to Cebu via the airport. Ives and I just waltzed up to the bus terminal after work Friday AM and hopped on a bus to Pasay, finding two seats together no problem. The bus was cheap and he made it easier since he speaks the language. Also, it's just nice to have another set of eyes and hands and a shoulder to lean on if you get tired. There is also an indefinable something about having someone else on a trip that lends it a flavor--you're also seeing it through their eyes as well.
That was then.
I had taken a vacation day this past Friday, on which I planned to travel, meet up with some people (more on that later) go to the Embassy, rest, etc.
So after shift Friday AM (very early) I went home and took a shower and grabbed my bags. I was dreading the trip the whole time, I really didn't want to do it.
All I could think about was the Cebu trip last month and how much fun I had, and now, one month later, I was alone and going on a romantic trip for two as one. I arrived at the bus station at 5.30, just as the sun was coming up. I couldn't find my sunglasses, I forgot to pack lipstick and I forgot Chaz, my elephant. I was feeling like a sack of laundry- just tired, out of sorts, hungry, distracted, sad, you name it. The McDonald's sandwhich I was eating tasted like cardboard to me.
Here's where I made my rookie mistake: I did the exact same thing I did last month with Ives, only allllll byyyy myselffff.
Well, children, it ended predicatbly badly: as I got more and more upset, watching bus after bus go to Tarlac (AUGH!! Ives' home town), Cubano, and other ports of call that were not Pasay, I was steaming hot. The bus station is an open courtyard with no shelter and no benches, and I was standing with my luggage in increasingly hot, unprotected pavement, wishing I was dead.
Finally a bus pulls in that has a *handwritten* sign for Pasay in the window. I asked the porter (the driver only drives, the porter takes your money and assures order on the bus) "Pasay?" He gave a kind of half shrug and went back to smoking. I checked again and he gave a kind of half "yes". Okay. I got on. The only two seats were: next to "Hobo with A Gun" Looking Guy and Tubercular Grandma Who Hates Your Guts. I chose B and tried to sit down and realized the TBGWHYG was taking up 3/4 of the two seats. And she wouldn't budge. And she HMG.
FUCK. THIS.
I gathered my raggedy shit and stormed off the bus. SO THERE, victory liner! You don't get my hard earned 150p after ALL!!!
I just couldn't do it. All around me were reminders of the fun and romance that had left my life and that I felt, at that moment, I would never have again.
I cried all the way back to my house and then flung myself on my bed to sob my eyes out. I got myself slightly together and called my sister, who made me feel better. Then I considered my options. There is a free shuttle from my job on Saturday mornings, so I called the hotel and changed my reservations to Sat- Sun- Mon and then set up a car to take me back through the hotel. Then I slept for a bit, worn out by heartbreak.
5 hours later, fortified by a nap and some perspective, I devised a plan. I needed to completely change the script.
To this end I considered my overnight bag, which had served me faithfully for about 10 years ( I got it when my sister was still in college. She is now 30.) It was (blush!!!) a *promo bag* given out by Estee Lauder for their Provocative Woman perfume launch (this is how I know how long I've had the bag, since the perfume wound up going to my sister since it always smelled sharp and unpleasant on me and heavenly on her- damn her!). It's a cream doctors' bag style bag, about 18 inches long and 12 deep, with a red leather upper, one inside pocket and two outside end-slit pockets.It has some stains on it but they're not noticeable. It's perfectly serviceable. And it should be burned. It was still carrying the MNL airport tags on it! What in heaven's name I was thinking I'm not sure.
The old bag:
Clearly proactive shopping was needed. I knew I could get a cuter, better bag and although it may be shallow, I felt that starting over with a new bag (thus signifying a new, better trip) would go a long way to making me feel better. After looking around the mall I settled on a really cool bag: North Face brand, (a bit more than I budgeted, but if you're going to have something for ten years, it's worth it to pay for quality), a deep magenta with a very subtle grey windowpane plaid, it had three separate sections, an inside pocket, and an outside zipper pocket. It was also a top handle square tote bag style, with short yet sturdy grey nylon straps. It's made out of rip stop nylon, which is a much better material than the mystery linen blend the old bag was made of, and it was much more suited to the task, having me, oh, say, designed for it.
The cool new bag:
I also picked up a new carry on bag, a really cool blend of tweed and perforated leather bowling bag style, for a song (it was 50% off) and I was ready. I repacked my bags and changed my travelling outfit. Then I went to sleep and slept for like 12 hours.
I headed to work rested, clear headed, better dressed, and better outfitted luggage wise. At work, Sat AM, people were coming off the Friday shift, and I chatted with supe Vic (one a my acquaintances who's rapidly becoming one of my favorite people for his dry, understated humor and his quick wit, a great combination) and he and MOD Ry both graciously agreed that everyone has a breaking point ( I told them the story, glossing over the "I just broke up blues" part), as Vic put it, his eyes wide "YOU tried to take a public bus?!"
I took the shuttle to the Manila office and then got picked up by the Holiday Inn Intercontinental car service at the Manila office Starbucks. (Thus beginning the realization, one of many, that everything is better in Manila.). Driving through the Forbes Park neighborhood, which was well manicured, with no tricylces, loud motorcycles, and actual little shopping centers with parking lots, I felt something odd--couldn't put my finger on it. Then I realized "this looks like the US." It looked *exactly* like the Palm Beach neighborhood where my well- to- do paternal grandparents lived. "I LOVE this neighborhood!" I told the driver. Stood to reason. It's the richest neighborhood IN THE PHILIPPINES. Heh. Champagne taste, anyone?
We got to the gorgeous Holiday Inn, which there's pictures of, so I won't bother describing in too much detail other than to say it was lovely. I got settled in and ran across the street to the Glorietta Malls, which are five shopping malls linked by a spine. The middle one, G4, is where most people recommended I spend my time. On the ground floor was a store called "Rustans Essences" which is a high end makeup and body products store. Throughout the mall are high end stores full of brands like Gap, Banana Republic, Guess, Ralph Lauren, etc. The mall and the surrounding areas are clean and bright and new looking. I was in Rustans (which astute readers will recognize from the Cebu vacation story) and I realized "this is where I feel the most pleasure". It's not so much luxury goods as the space, the design, the scent, the care and attention to detail. I'm really an aesthete- and often the Philippines is like nails on a chalkboard aesthetically---loud, bad smelling, glaring, ugly, run down, hopeless, broken, ill planned, and physically dirty on top of that. Not this little slice of heaven.
I took pictures of Chaz in various awesome poses (one is in a display that had a miniature vintage racing car! The guard and the assistants all came over to watch and the guard opined "I bet he [Chaz] is really special to you.") and wandered around, then went back to the hotel for a dip in the pool and a nap. I had dinner at the Prince Albert Rotisserie, which is the hotel's fine dining resto, and it was delicious. An appetizer of a crisp toast with a swizzle of veggie cream cheese on top came free and then a complimentary salad since my order of creamy risotto was taking too long (although I didn't say anything). I had a Absolut citron and tonic to compliment the creamy, risotto, which was perfectly cooked, and came with a sprinkling of mushrooms and a rich cheese. For desert was a pineapple and carrot "chiffon" (a flan, if you must ask) that was a good compliment to the richness of the risotto as well. Then off to watch TV (BTW, if you watch one show, let it be Modern Family. If you watch two, add "Outsourced", a show that made me laugh harder than I can recall laughing since I've been here) and sleep the sleep of the just.
Part two, in which I go to Divisora, meet the Filipino version of my former "stepdad" Bob (henceforth called FilBob), eat some local food, swim, etc, next time!!!
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