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Asia, Day 0 | Philippines, Day 0
Aug. 15th, 2023 07:47 amOur flight to the Philippines is in two stages: a 14-hour flight to Incheon Airport in Seoul, and a 4-hour flight to Manila. Concerned about the vagaries of multi-stop international travel, we've stuffed everything we think we need into four backpacks and four carry-on bags, planning to do laundry at least twice during our 2.5 week trip. The schedule is such that we leave our house at 8am on Saturday morning (budgeting far too much time for US customs), and arrive in Manila at 10pm on Sunday. Including the journey from the airport to our hotel, it'll about 28 hours of travel.
Both flights have a robust-enough movie selection, and I have a chance to watch Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, which is gloriously absurd, and the first two Fast/Furious films, which I wish were more bonkers. Between them, J & G watch D&D: Honor Among Thieves a combined six times.
Incheon Airport itself seems to be a high-end mall that also happens to have planes flying out of it, with multiple floors of expensive-looking stores lining our long walk to the next gate. While waiting for our connecting flight, I pick up some delicious Korean-style donuts (not dissimilar to churros), and in doing so verify that I can use at least one of my credit cards while on the other side of the world.
During our flight to Manila, I'm handed a customs form to fill out. Abortion advocacy materials are among the goods forbidden from being brought into the Philippines. Gross. The Philippines is a deeply Catholic country, one of the legacies left behind by centuries of Spanish colonization. I don't understand a great deal about Filipino politics, but my guess is that while separation of church and state is enshrined in their constitution, the barrier between them is even more porous than in The States.
E has set up TravelWifi for our long trip, and thanks to it (we call it "Oopdip", thanks to its identifier) I text my family to let them know we've arrived. At Passport Control, I'm asked if both of my parents are Filipino citizens; I'm guessing that answering "yes" means that we're subjected to a little less scrutiny, though I honestly have no idea. Customs is a complete formality, and we're waved through without a second glance, eight bags and all.
(As an aside, as part of the spoils of the Spanish-American war, The Philippines was ceded to the United States, and spend 50+ years as an American colony until it was granted independence just after World War II. One of the upshots of this is that pretty much everybody that I'm likely to encounter speaks English, and most signage is in English, and English only.)
We emerge from the airport into a sea of heat and humidity. The Philippines is a tropical country, and has two seasons: the dry season, and monsoon season; we're arriving in the middle of the latter. My dad and (unfortunate) brother pick us up, and take us to our hotel.
Said hotel (MySpace, natch) is owned by my dad's brother, a very successful businessman. It's a budget hotel, intended as a crash space for people on business trips or doing worker training nearby, and is clean but utilitarian at best; our room is about the size of two or three parking spaces, filled mostly with a bed. The shower's "hot" water is indifferent at best, a trend that will last during our Philippines stay.
We crash pretty much immediately.
Both flights have a robust-enough movie selection, and I have a chance to watch Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, which is gloriously absurd, and the first two Fast/Furious films, which I wish were more bonkers. Between them, J & G watch D&D: Honor Among Thieves a combined six times.
Incheon Airport itself seems to be a high-end mall that also happens to have planes flying out of it, with multiple floors of expensive-looking stores lining our long walk to the next gate. While waiting for our connecting flight, I pick up some delicious Korean-style donuts (not dissimilar to churros), and in doing so verify that I can use at least one of my credit cards while on the other side of the world.
During our flight to Manila, I'm handed a customs form to fill out. Abortion advocacy materials are among the goods forbidden from being brought into the Philippines. Gross. The Philippines is a deeply Catholic country, one of the legacies left behind by centuries of Spanish colonization. I don't understand a great deal about Filipino politics, but my guess is that while separation of church and state is enshrined in their constitution, the barrier between them is even more porous than in The States.
E has set up TravelWifi for our long trip, and thanks to it (we call it "Oopdip", thanks to its identifier) I text my family to let them know we've arrived. At Passport Control, I'm asked if both of my parents are Filipino citizens; I'm guessing that answering "yes" means that we're subjected to a little less scrutiny, though I honestly have no idea. Customs is a complete formality, and we're waved through without a second glance, eight bags and all.
(As an aside, as part of the spoils of the Spanish-American war, The Philippines was ceded to the United States, and spend 50+ years as an American colony until it was granted independence just after World War II. One of the upshots of this is that pretty much everybody that I'm likely to encounter speaks English, and most signage is in English, and English only.)
We emerge from the airport into a sea of heat and humidity. The Philippines is a tropical country, and has two seasons: the dry season, and monsoon season; we're arriving in the middle of the latter. My dad and (unfortunate) brother pick us up, and take us to our hotel.
Said hotel (MySpace, natch) is owned by my dad's brother, a very successful businessman. It's a budget hotel, intended as a crash space for people on business trips or doing worker training nearby, and is clean but utilitarian at best; our room is about the size of two or three parking spaces, filled mostly with a bed. The shower's "hot" water is indifferent at best, a trend that will last during our Philippines stay.
We crash pretty much immediately.
