Have you ever been to an indoor swimming pool? If not come to the Philippines. The air is dense, hot and carries with it busyness. Busyness that is found in the city; the ones that never sleep.
Stepping off the plane there became the instant awareness that comes with experiencing lines of people outside the ol’ US-of-A. Yes, I’m talking about Personal Space. Only in Merica are you guaranteed 18″ of space between you and the next person. Other countries either don’t know about the ‘rule’ or they don’t care. Rushing off the plane, corralled like cattle, we all usher ourselves down a flight of stairs and around a corner to the Immigration desks. Did I mention us and 300 other passengers from 2 other flights? The local Immigration Agents were caught off guard as the mob dashes towards them. Waiting in line I was constantly bombarded by old ladies bumping me from behind all the whilst trying to defend my God given position near the front-middle of the line from would be line robbers.
An hour later we finally made it through and we were the lucky ones near the front of the mob.
So recap, 13h + 2.5h + 1.5h(delay) + 4h + 1h (immigration) = one grumpy fella and Nate. (Cue readership for sighs of Pity for me)
Okay back to my story…
Waiting outside the Mactan Airport at 1:45 am the hotel shuttle was no where to be found. After a phone call another 30 minutes and the last strand of patience he shows up.
…And that is where the story only begins……next blog: the look of fear in Nates eyes as we have our first experience with a Philippino driver.