Manila is steamy

After a gate change and a three and a half hour delay, I finally was on my way to the Philippines. I've taken to falling asleep on the plane as soon as I hit my seat, so I can't say that I remember what the descent into Manila looked like.

Manila Is a Steamy, Steamy City. Oh mans is it humid here. I queued up and waited for a taxi, and cringingly noticed that most travellers making oafs of themselves seemed to be American. Not that there were a lot, just a handful who were quite conspicuous.

Apparently there was a typhoon the day before I arrived, and twisted metal, tree branches, and other debris freely littered the roads and sidewalks. My taxi driver told me that 80 percent of the city had no power. The place I wanted to stay at had no water or electricity, so I left the candlelit lobby and walked through some dimly lit streets to another place, the Malate Pensionne, which is decently nice. I wandered around the neighborhood a bit more, and the storefronts were an interesting mix of shuttered black, spattered candlelight, and electric lights, powered by the omnipresent hum of generators. I didn't mind that the city hads no power, it left me curious to wake up in the morning and discover the city anew.