We left Siquijor on the 5th January and returned to Manila. It is good to be a little less hectic; being in a gated community shields you from the reality of city life. Here in our bubble, the pool is sublime, complete with club house, small kids play park and restaurant. The lawn and boarder beds beds around the car park are tended to by fleet of gardeners, the grass swept within an inch of its life, the small fallen leaves gathered by hand.
Despite this luxury, I find myself missing green spaces (Dyl's lawn is for looking only), which are very scarce in this city, the WW2 American cemetery being the only one in this vicinity. Perhaps the pollution puts people off relaxing outdoors. I suppose when bringing the indoor temperature down to 30 degrees becomes a struggle, one can see why a fresh, air conditioned mall becomes an attractive prospect.
I'm looking forward to home now. Seeing Tom and going on some wet, wintery walks, all wrapped up and cosy with gloves and scarves. Followed by a pub lunch; Jacket spud, cheese and beans. Oh I've missed baked beans. I did find a tin which promised to be baked beans in the mall, but they were sweet and brown. Filipinos have a sweet tooth and bread, milk, yogurt are all very sugary. The main overseas culinary influence, apart from other Asian countries, is American, so portions are big, things are sweet and healthy eating is not a great concern.
We fly the day after tomorrow. Had a thai foot massage today while Theo slept in his pushchair. I always feel a little uncomfortable having someone massage me in this kind of situation (the privileged westerner relaxing while a poorly paid local masseurs spoils them just a little more - one of my revelations about ex-pats here is this: they become thoroughly spoilt. This accounts for their behaviour). I did eventually have a massage - thinking Theo really had put me through the mill so I did, in fact, deserve it. And Wow, my feet felt as if they had liquified, it was wonderful. I treated Mum to a full aromatherapy body massage. She came out feeling revitalised and refreshed. 'Why are you black, Ma'am?' the masseuse had asked her. Mum admired her directness.
This was followed by shopping, pizza, ice cream and a walk around the 'high street' ; a consumerist playground for manila's wealthy; fountains, sculptures, continental shops and cafes line a landscaped boulevard built to resemble a street in a smart European city- it is, undoubtedly, the poshest part of Manila. I must say, as we strolled along licking italian ice cream, it did feel like a real holiday.
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