Breakfast stuff: egg drop soup, chicken bee hoon, a sausage
thing with raisins called embutido, and a pandan coconut
agar sweet that I made most of my meal of.

We had the doorman call us a cab to Manila. I wanted to pay
homage to the father of Philippine independence, having done
so in Singapore not so long ago, after all, and anyhow
that's what you do in this country.

Rizal Park was closed. I should have figured, because that's
where the Pope had celebrated his last Mass in the country
the day before. Though the cleanup was pretty much complete,
the barriers were still up, so we walked around rather than
through the park (not much fun) and decided to cut over to
Intramuros, the original Spanish fortification and the main
historical district of the city. It's not old by either
Asian or European standards, having been originally built
in 1574, but it's what they've got, and it's worthwhile.

There are touts everywhere.

We pushed past them and up General Luna, the main drag, to
the church of S. Agustin, a UNESCO World Heritage site
dating from 1607 and the only major structure that survived
the earthquake of 1863. A Mass was being celebrated, so we
didn't linger long there. Then we veered off away from the
tourist area to the PC barracks ruins and then the Baluarte
de San Diego, within which have been planted gardens that
were featured in the Hemispheres Three Perfect Days a year
or two ago. Nice bonsai, and lili found the bonsai master
and chatted with him for a while. This was a highlight.

We walked along the wall as far as possible and then visited
the Cathedral, a mid-20th structure that recently underwent
extensive renovations and that has within the year been
reopened.

North to Fort Santiago, site of some of the most notable
events of Philippine history, where we spent a couple hours.
In addition to the fort itself (16th century, damaged and
restored several times, most notably during WWII) there is
the Rizal shrine and museum, offering a facsimile of his
ancestral home and what is billed as the actual cell he
was confined in before his execution.

We had this cockamamie idea to ride the Pasig River ferry
back home, which entailed finding the Plaza Mexico (not in
my atlas). Luckily, there were cops around, and after some
serious consultation it was decided that we should walk
about six blocks over and to the river. And that's where
it was, just past the Intendencia ruins (looked just like
any decrepit building in any decrepit town). There's a
ticket window, the ubiquitous security check, and a nice
outdoor waiting area from which we watched the local street
urchins diving into the murky river and swimming to the
giant lily islands that floated past. The ferry came a bit
late, and one got the impression that it was more a proof
of concept than a working operation. This run was a fairly
modern catamaran that accommodated 30-odd - hardly enough
to make a dent in the commuter traffic to and from the city
but at least a good idea. It was a pleasant enough ride
along a very urban but not too disgusting waterway.

We got off at the Santa Ana market building - by this time
mostly closed up for the day, just a few stalls left
desperately trying to unload some picked-over vegetables -
and walked south through a slightly dodgy neighborhood down
toward Chino Roces and the hotel. It was just about dark by
the time we got there.

101 Hawker Food House is a renowned cheap eats restaurant
right among the Makati office towers. I'd heard good things
and was especially looking forward to trying the Filipino
take on Chinese braised pork shoulder and was pleased to
find it a component of the sampler platter, so we ordered
this to split. Consternation on the face of the young waiter
- turns out they couldn't make the sampler platter, because
the braised pork was out I suggested that a second
order of lechon kawali (crispy pork belly) be substituted,
which was readily agreed to. The lechon was quite good,
though the skin was more hard than it ought to be (if basted
properly during cooking, it bubbles up and becomes crunchy
tender rather than crunchy hard). Also on the platter were
asado (beef stew) and soy sauce chicken, both unremarkable
but wholesome. Accompaniments: chicken soup that tasted like
bouillon; a capsicum sauce that was much more green peppery
than spicy; a ginger-garlic sauce that I kind of liked;
kecap manis (sweet soy) out of a bottle; and hot oil, of
which I used the whole dish. A dish of strange dryish rice
cost P20 extra. San Mig Light was P40 only.

It was dark going home, and I turned my ankle a little -
nothing that a little stretching couldn't deal with, though.