❝A FOURTEEN DEGREES NORTH LATITUDE, Ms. Canon arrives in Manila out of breath. The telephoto lens is not covered in dust up to its eyelashes, it no longer focuses automatically. Today she had to be relieved by Mr. Samsung but I hope that in the next few days she will be able to recover a little for the visit to the village of Buscalan and its tattoo artists before facing the bursts and continuous shooting in the Bardiya tiger reserve in Nepal. I don't focus automatically either. I don't know what this is going to be like! Manila at least feeds and gives you the best drink. iced blend tea from all over Southeast Asia.
Back in the Philippines and staying in Manila while I manage to arrange a getaway to the rice-growing village where the most famous woman in the archipelago lives can be an extravagance for sun and beach tourists. Staying in Valero Grand Suites, In the heart of the Makati neighborhood, a board of glass and steel skyscrapers whose urban planning perpetuates a street with a Spanish accent, isolates and relaxes you.
The hotel lobby, of noble but unpretentious stature, is a hive of activity between the entrance and exit doors, mostly tourists from the country, some buried in the large armchairs while they wait and watch others decide to come or go, or luggage carts cross it.
The fact that the pool was out of service on those days was precisely a lesser evil compared to the scorching puffs of tobacco coming out of the elevators.
Once we confirmed that the chosen suite had been smoke-free, everything was comfortable. The breakfasts were limited but tasty, although you couldn't linger too long at the risk of going hungry. From the room's large windows, phantasmagoria in the night, and in the bathtub, a battle of memories and insomnia.
The guesthouse I had booked in Buscalan was waiting for me with mattresses on the floor and a shared bathroom on another floor, but with energetic breakfasts without any loss.●
