Planning the Trip
This header is a bit of a misnomer: there was no planning. On a Sunday evening I was sitting on the sofa, watching TV, trying to figure out how I was going to maintain my status with Delta. Given how far along the calendar was and what else I had planned, the path was looking every less possible. Enter Manila.
As I often do, I had a quick look at the mileage-run forum over at flyertalk.com. Lo and behold, there it was: Washington National to Manila for about $750—about 18,000 qualifying miles. It did not take much consideration before I jumped on it.
That Sunday I booked a trip that would leave a week from the following Thursday morning, Washington National to Detroit to Nagoya to Manila, arriving the following night, very late. On the way back, I would do the reverse itinerary, leaving out first thing Monday morning and arriving home Monday afternoon. (If the timing does not make sense, well, that has to do with the International Date Line, which one crosses in both directions.)
Of course, before I booked the air portion, I did have a cursory look at hotels to see if there was someplace I could stay for a reasonable price; the place had to be a place I also would stay. In the end I settled upon the Intercontinental and decided to stay using points.
Everything was booked and it was just counting down and doing some research to prepare for the trip.
Departure Day
I cannot say I was not a little worried about the length of the trip. It was a really, really long way to be going, especially in economy class. But, I kept reminding myself that I had done longer trips and I would make it through this one just fine.
At about 10:30 or so I headed out to the airport. I allowed lots of time, so I took the Metro and was there plenty of time early. I already had my boarding passes and I was not checking a bag, so I headed right for security and, thereafter, to the lounge to relax a little before heading to the gate.
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| Does not look like there is anything abnormal here; but, this departure board is at Washington National, and it lists departures to Nagoya and to Manila, almost 9000 miles away |
Getting There
The flight to Detroit was without incident and I arrived into Detroit with just enough time to get a snack and make it to the next gate.
The flight to Manila was on a 747-400, with one stop in Nagoya, Japan. It took almost an hour to get the aircraft loaded but we still managed an on-time pushback. We taxied out and were soon airborne.
Between Detroit and Nagoya we were offered lunch, then, after about four hours a small snack, and then, before landing, breakfast. The food was okay, but not the best airplane food I had ever had.
In Nagoya, even though we were flying on using the same aircraft, we all had to deplane, taking all of our things with us, just as if we were changing planes. In fact, the flight number was the same from Washington National all the way to Manila, even though there were deplanings and an aircraft change! (It was so silly I had to comment on it
here.)
As we deplaned, ground-crew on the jet bridge were so numerous, all bowing and welcoming us in Japanese and English. There were so many staff and so much bowing. It was a stereotype come to life!
We went through security, and headed back to the gate we had just come from, through a route that was so circuitous that it felt like a totally different part of the airport. Luckily I was able to go to the lounge to have a break from the crowds. We were only on the ground in Nagoya for about 75 minutes or so, so there was not too much time to lounge-about.
Back at the gate, I arrived just about ten minutes before departure to Manila. When it was time to board, a gate agent made laps through the boarding area with a sign foisted above her head saying “Business Class” or “Sky Priority,” and so on. It put me in mind of the gal in the bikini who prances around a boxing ring with the sign proclaiming which round is coming up.
I re-boarded the plane and found my same seatmates: the two ladies to my left and the two ladies in the row directly behind me. By this point we had formed a little community and had a great time interacting with each other. These four ladies were really a highpoint of the voyage.
From Nagoya to Manila there is another meal service, along with a couple of beverage services. The flight was about 3 ½ hours long. This flight seemed like a breeze compared to the long haul in from Detroit. I was in the home stretch.
Arrival into Manila was crazy, with customs lines stretching for what seemed like forever. I cheated a little and maœuvred into a special line that I think was for diplomats or handicapped or something. In any event, it saved me a good amount of time, I think. (Sorry, fellow travelers!)
Getting a taxi to the hotel had been my greatest concern: after a full day of travel, I knew I would be exhausted. Exhaustion is not the best condition to be in when navigating an unknown country. All that I read said that my best option was a “coupon taxi.” For this, one goes to a desk and is given a slip of paper that states where the traveler is going. Although this does not preclude fraud or danger, it certainly helps; and, it was a procedure I was familiar with from our visit to Colombia. Obviously, I made it to the hotel fine and in one piece.
First blush at the hotel was encouraging and the greetings I received were warm, sincere, and kind. Check-in was a breeze. My bags were brought to me shortly after I got into the room. It was small-ish but clean, well-kept, and seemed comfortable. I wrote some emails to worried colleagues and family to let them know I had arrived and, before long, made my way to bed. I was halfway round the world and my body was not letting me forget it!
Day One
I have a very hard time sleeping on planes, especially in economy class. The Intercontinental bed was so comfortable and I was so exhausted that I managed to sleep all the way until one o’clock in the afternoon. I tried to rouse myself earlier but it was no use.
I finally got myself together and headed out to check out the area around the hotel, which featured lots of shopping, restaurants, and people. Since I had come in under dark of night, I wasn’t completely sure what I would find in the daylight. Looking out the hotel room window I was surprised how thoroughly modern this part of the city seemed.
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| View from my room |
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| View from my room |
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| Intercontinental Hotel Manila |
Out on the street, I was struck by how relatively few people there were, especially in comparison to the crush of automobile traffic. Where were all of the people? I soon found out: they were inside, in the interconnected web of department stores and malls. The number and variance of stores and shops was striking, everything from Rolex to Marks & Spencer, to local shops selling socks.
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| At the grocery store, but I saw similar signs all over: sounded funny to me |
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| Is she everywhere?! Don't know why they don't tire of her |
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| Jeepney: Manila's public transportation |
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| Makati streetscape |
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| Makati streetscape |
Out on the street, I was struck by how relatively few people there were, especially in comparison to the crush of automobile traffic. Where were all of the people? I soon found out: they were inside, in the interconnected web of department stores and malls. The number and variance of stores and shops was striking, everything from Rolex to Marks & Spencer, to local shops selling socks.
Also striking is the number of sales people in each store, especially the department stores. There were so many that I think they almost equaled the number of people shopping! In the department stores all of the salespeople were dressed the same. The women all wore skirts and hose; the guys dress slacks, button-downs, and vests. It seemed very old-fashioned and a little funny.
After a while I tired of window-shopping and headed back to the room, where I just unwound and continued to recover from the flight. I had planned on heading out for dinner but I just ordered a little something from room service and eventually called it a night.
Day Two
Sunday I awoke much earlier but lazed in bed a while. Eventually I got up and ordered room service for breakfast. I went with the full Filipino breakfast, which was huge. Highlights for me were the wonderfully fresh fruit and the mango juice, certainly some of the best fresh-squeezed juice I have ever had.
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| Filipino breakfast. Best fresh-squeezed juice, maybe ever |
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| Filipino breakfast: do people really eat this much meat at one sitting?! I had two bites |
For the day I had planned a three-hour walking tour of old Manila, and I full intended to go, but, as the meeting time got closer, the thought of traipsing around in the humidity for three hours lost its allure. And, the heavy, greasy breakfast was doing its work on my stomach. I decided it was wisest to forego it and return to some of the shops I’d seen yesterday to see if there was anything I actually wanted to take home with me.
Sunday afternoon’s big even was witnessing a fender-bender, altercation, and police chase. No, I am not describing a movie! I was walking between shopping malls and I saw a good number of locals staring at and chattering about something. It turned out that there had been some sort of a minor accident. No big deal, right? Well…
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| Fender bender turns wild. The SUV/crossover in the middle is the striking/fleeing vehicle |
One of the automobiles involved in the accident had been corralled, unable to leave. There was lots of shouting, chattering, and so forth. Eventually, police turned up; and then a more serious-looking officer (with a machine gun). All seemed to be under control.
Then, just when we spectators thought the whole thing might be diffusing, all hell broke loose: the blocking car moved and the driver of the striking car attempted to flee. One of the officers tried to reach in through the open widow to get to the steering wheel, to no avail. The officer with the machine gun leapt into the vehicle’s path and the fleeing driver went directly for him; the officer dove out of the way, just in the nick of time. Crazy!
The fugitive then swerved over to the left lane, sped to the next traffic light, and made a dramatic, hard swerve out to the right, and was out of sight. Well, only briefly out-of-sight. About a half hour later I passed a nearby window to see the aforementioned perp pulled to the curb by the police. What a fiasco; but, really, quite a show!
Ah, the show. But, alas, one can take but so much and it was time to unwind a little. But, before that, I wanted to get some souvenirs for myself and a little something for a colleague. Now, that is easy; right? Um, no. Finding a cash machine that would give me cash was a nightmare. I started to wonder if I would fine one. Intercontinental to the rescue! They took care of me. Ah, the comfort of staying somewhere that’ll sort things out for you!
Back at the department store another, less-dramatic performance! I picked up three items from the made-in-The-Philippians department and took them to the counter to pay for them. The counter-girl barked out a few numbers and two people came running. One wrote up a slip for one of the items; then, a second person wrote up a slip for the second and third items. Next, a separate person escorted me and the items over to the cash desk.
At the cash desk, which was, of course, mobbed with sales people, the items and hand-written sales slips were handed over to the cashier. Another sales clerk verified her work as she stated, in a very official tone, what I was buying. Then she removed the cover from a scanner and scanned each item and announced the total. I handed her my cash and she said loudly “I have received five hundred fifty pesos!” It was true, I acknowledged. Then another sales person swooped in to verify things again before yet another person packaged up my things in a bag, stapled it shut, and handed me my purchases. It was one of the most baroque—and theatrical—purchasing experiences I think I have ever had.
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| "Calamity victims." Hmmm... |
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| At the mall |
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| At the mall |
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| One sees this everywhere: security guard in uniform, at the entrance of just about every building, and sometimes within a building |
From there I headed back to the room to pack my things. My flight was at half past six and the Manila airport was supposed to be notorious, so I wanted to allow enough time, which meant leaving at four and rising at three or so. I managed to doze off at about ten, but sleep would not hold and I awoke at 1:30. I tossed and turned before finally getting up and getting ready at about 2:30. By 3:30 I was checking out.
Getting Home
Taxiing in developing countries is often an issue. There are questions of safety and of the integrity of the driver. After all, whenever one climbs into a taxi, there is an offer of trust on the part of the driver and also of the passenger, but the bar is set differently in some places. For my taxi ride, from the Intercontinental to the Manila airport, I felt pretty safe: the hotel would note the taxi’s number and verify that the meter is running before the taxi leaves the property. Good.
Well, we were only a block away from the hotel before the driver was covering the meter with his hand. I was watching so I saw him change the meter rate from “1” to “3.” So, I asked “What is going on with the meter?” No response. I asked again. “400,” the driver said under his breath. “What’s that?” “400. 400 Pesos.” “Okay, done.”
I had set aside 500 for the ride and, though I did not like his approach, there was no need to challenge him over 100 pesos, just a couple or so dollars. The driver safely navigated me to the airport, through quite a bit of traffic, given the hour, and past a car wreck. At the airport he fetched my bag to the curb and I offered up 500 pesos.
Outside the terminal, there were queues and groups of people. It was not easy to figure out where to go or what to do. Like in St Petersburg, the only other place I had seen this, passengers go through an initial security checkpoint before even entering the building. This one is not to look for liquids over 100 ml or anything like that: this one was a search for guns and bombs. (I had neither.)
Inside, there were snaking queues that were a little difficult to figure out. I spotted the Delta desk out of the corner of my eye and headed right over. The line of people was a hundred or so people long. Luckily, the Sky Priority area was empty and I walked directly up to the counter. Checking in was easy. Next stop was to pay the departure tax, about $13. I had heard this would be a horrible experience but it was relatively easy. Then, it was on to immigration, also easy. Next there was the second security clearance, the one that most people expect when catching a flight.
Beyond security I found my way to the Delta lounge, where I relaxed a little before the flight was due to board. The final obstacle to boarding was another full-on security check. I walked up to the gate just about ten minutes before boarding commenced.
Boarding was okay and I was pleased to see that I would have the entire row to myself. Indeed much of Economy Comfort (Delta’s version of a coach seat with a little extra room, usually about three inches) was empty. Breakfast was served from Manila to Nagoya.
In Nagoya, it was again time to do the same dance as on the way down: gather up everything, deplane, back through security, to the lounge, and back to the plane.
From Nagoya to Detroit the flight was totally full. No surprise, as I expect every flight to be full. The previous flight being mostly in my section was a treat, but it was not to be on the next leg. It was okay, though.
We pushed back on-time but there was some issue getting the safety video started. Eventually the FAs gave up ad did the demo live. This delayed us a little but we soon took the active runway. The pilot, though, neglected to tell the FAs (Delta’s cue is “Flight attendants please prepare the cabin.” Other airlines use different verbiage.) The FAs were really taken by surprise and were left scrambling as the 747 powered up and started the take-off roll.
We were soon airborne, climbing out over the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. As on the way over, we were fed soon after takeoff, offered a mid-flight snack, and given a second full meal about 90 minutes before landing.
This leg was the longest of the trip, at least from my mind’s perspective. It seemed to last forever. The best news was that we got in just a little early, but that few minutes, and the ease that is Global Entry, I was able to make it to the 12:30 flight to National, saving me over three hours!
The last flight of the trip was delayed a little from its 12:30 departure time, owed to late-arriving crew; but, I still got home about an hour before my original flight would have taken off. It was wonderful to walk through the door, get a shower, and decompress from the journey. I was so exhausted be bedtime that I had the best night’s sleep I had had in months.
Thoughts on the Trip
As the sole purpose of the trip was to collect qualifying miles, the trip was a success: I earned about 18,000 qualifying miles and almost 40,000 redeemable miles. What I would have done differently is either to have stayed just one day instead of two or have stayed five or six days. Two days was too much to just cope with the exhaustion from flying and the time difference, but not enough to really see or do anything (except see a police chase).
Folks asked me what I thought of The Philippines, but I cannot fairly say I have “been” to the place. I was there, and I got just the slightest feel for it, but I do not say that I have enough information to offer an opinion.
I can say that the people were kind and very friendly. The weather was not nearly as hot as I was prepared for. The difference between the skyscrapers, fine restaurants, and shops of Makati and some of the shantytowns one passes to and from the airport is striking. The number of security guards everywhere and the security checks is also remarkable, though most of them seemed just for show and certainly lacking in any thoroughness.
What would make me return to The Philippines are the beaches; if I liked the beach. I did not visit the beach but the resorts are supposed to be wonderful. And, everything is so inexpensive there that a week-long holiday at a resort could be had for almost nothing. For me, though, I was happy to have just collected the points!
