I believe someone once told me I hadn't lived till I'd seen the sunset over Manila Harbor. Well, one evening in 1990 I got that opportunity.
I'm pretty sure I took this from my hotel window, not that I've got anything that confirms it but I can't think how else I'd have gotten this viewpoint.
In my ‘traveler' days, I used to try to get rooms on the 3rd to 6th floor. Generally high enough to prevent someone sneaking in off the street but low enough to have a reasonable chance of escape in the event of a fire. In many of these places, Manila being no exception, traffic was so manic at all times of the day that I wasn't hopeful of a rapid response by the fire department in the event of an emergency.
What I remember about flying into Manila was that, having cleared customs, I'd go upstairs to departures and get in a taxi that was dropping people off.
This meant I avoided the queues of all the other arrivees waiting in the taxi line and it worked out cheaper since the taxi driver didn't face an interminable wait in the line to pick up a fare back to the city. A win-win if you like.
Of course, this was forbidden by authorities but the policemen on duty were always too preoccupied with ensuring a flow of traffic to deliberately cause a jam for such a trivial offense.
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