After finding Wilson's car I was sped off into the busy streets of Manila, heading deep into an area near Makati. Over a traditional soupy chinese meal we introduced ourselves. My dealings with Wilson and his company have been limited to email and fax, and it was interesting to see in person who this man I had dealt with for so long actually was. Shock over my young age and my 'adventurous' travels melted away and we were instant friends. I learned as much as I could about him and his company during our meal, consisting of two soup broths boiling in the middle of our table into which various raw meats and vegetables were introduced. Later I would accompany him back to the warehouse and would meet his coworkers, which turned out to be his parents, brother, sister and a family of provincial workers.
Long a focus of my trip in SE Asia, this visit was intended as a favour to the company that I left back in Vancouver in early September. Maintaining good relations throughout my trip over here, I would now represent their interests as I introduced myself and my company to an old man whom my former boss had dealt with for some 32 years; they had never met. The warehouse is located not too far from the airport in Pasay City, off a busy crowded street filled with illegal fruit stalls, down a long alley filled with squatter shanty shacks, past a rigged basketball hoop, within a gated compound. After a brief tour I was taken to the hostel where my Danish friend, Per, was waiting for me.

Driving through Manila was an eye-opening experience. The roads are a bit run-down and are filled with a wide assortment of vehicles, from brand new mercedes to SUVs to tricycles, to dune buggies, to fanciful jeepneys. On the shoulders and meridians beggars, mostly young girls with infant babies, run at passing cars with hands extended. Filipinos without legs, or with clubbed feet, stagger across 6 lanes of traffic on splintering crutches. People sleep on cardboard mats everywhere, men urinate anywhere they please. There are urinal stations on street corners - pink half-booths featuring a small diameter pipe into which you are directed to pee. Large pools surround these booths. The streets are black with grime and filth and the smog and pollution is very obvious. Despite having lived in Manila his entire life, Wilson had spent about 10 minutes trying to get directions to the Manila International Youth Hostel, although I had a relatively good map in the Philippines LP that I bought off an irish guy for 45RM in KK. Together with his brother he struggled to find the street; quite the ordeal. I checked in and reunited with Per in the mostly empty male dormitory.
It was still early in the evening and Per and I wanted to explore the city a bit. As one of the cultural focuses of Manila, the walled ancient fortress of Intramuros seemed a good place to start. Feeling adventurous the two of us wandered out onto the main strip and hopped into a Jeepney, paying the 5p fare. We would jump out as it turned off the main drag, and we would take a taxi the rest of the way to the Spanish fort. The holiday feeling was very evident and the entire area was lit with white lights - in fact the entire city was very nicely lit, lending itself to a very nice atmosphere. We wandered through one of the main gates into a pedestrian city of cobbled roads and small food and craft stalls. All over the place music played loudly, mostly christmas tunes. It was a beautiful place to be! As we walked along the inner wall of the city was came across a few stages where local indy bands played rock, punk and classic melodies. We bought a pair of San Miguels and wandered deeper into the old spanish city. We quickly finished off the beer as we approached the Manila Cathedral and quietly entered the massive building, clearing a security checkpoint. Inside a formal, though small, catholic wedding was taking place. We were not dressed for the occasion and so made our visit brief. Quiet a magnificent building. We wandered around for a good while before Per's hunger necessitated a stop at the food stall area near the main stage. Eating honey glazed pork-on-a-stick and enjoying another beer we listened to a local punk band. It was hilarious to see their followers dressed in gothic attire, mimicking what they see on MTV. It wasn't hard to look past their costume to see the small, cute kids beneath. Not quite like the punks back home... We enjoyed the music for a long while before moving to the nearby waterfront when music was being played on even more stages. It was late before Per and I caught a taxi home to our hostel in Paranaque.