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Published: February 15th 2007
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The journey from Bangkok to Iloilo turned out to be the most frustrating of all the trips we have made so far,the day started well with a visit to see the emerald Buddha and the royal palace then back to the tailors to pick up the cloths Emma had ordered, at mid-day back to the Indian embassy to put in our passports for visas, back to our room where Emma starts to pack and I go to the post office to send back all the items that we have collected over the last three country's (7 kg worth), back to the room, re pack my bag and we are ready to head back to the Indian embassy to collect our passports (this is where our well laid plans start to drift from our expectations).
The queue to pick up passports stretches for miles and winds its way around the courtyard garden after waiting for 40 minutes and having only just got into the embassy hall, I am now starting to worry as we are about 2 hours from the new airport (allowing for traffic), the lady in front of me suggests going local (Indian people do not usually queue), so
with my widest shoulders and longest arms I head to the front of the queue, push my receipt to the counter window and say in a loud voice "sorry, I have to catch a flight in two hours", to my amazement the man behind the counter takes my ticket and after a few moments hands me our passports, I leave the embassy clutching our new visas and offering apologizes to any one who looks my way.
So now back in the taxi we ask the driver to get us to the airport as quickly as possible, we hand the driver some Bhat and head out to the expressway (which was moving as fast as the M25 during rush hour through road works) the minuite hand on my watch seems to be going faster than the taxi and I am more than a little worried that we are not going to make it when suddenly as we approach the next toll booth we can see clear roads ahead, we get to the airport just in time to book in, walk through to passport control, then straight to our boarding gate and on to the plane, for the first time in
a few hours we could relax.
The flight to Hong Kong was pleasant and Hong Kong airport is very clean and modern, but by the time we passed through customs control all the restaurants and coffee bars where closing, we got the last MTR train out of the airport to Hong Kong station so we could catch the ferry over to Macau,when we arrived at our train stop the station was empty except for two station attendants who where waiting to usher the last passengers out and close the station, we stepped out into the night air to find......... nothing ,no cars ,no people and more importantly no taxis, after we had walked around the corner, we were able to flag down a cab to take us to the ferry port, we paid the taxi driver and got out of the cab and as we approached the ticket office for the ferry (which was closed) a uniformed gentleman informed us that the ferry to Macau was just about to leave and that we could get a ticket from "that man over there" we quickly got tickets and ran to passport control to checked through to the ferry (running and
backpacks DO NOT go well together) they where just about to close the gangplank as we arrived,the one hour ferry crossing gave us time to get our breath back, we disembarked from the ferry and got a cab to the airport.
I wondered why the taxi driver looked at us so strangely, it was because when we got there (at about 3am) it was shut, there was a large hotel opposite that was looking more appealing by the second so Emma went across the road to see if they had a room, fortunately for us, they did. Oh my god, what a difference a comfortable bed, clean sheets, hot shower and room service can make to your outlook on the world.
In the morning we awoke renewed and refreshed, we checked out of the hotel, gently strolled across the road, and checked in for our flight to the Philippines, the Tiger Air flight went very smoothly until we landed, when Emma came over to me and whispered "I think we might be in the wrong airport". we checked the tickets for our connecting flight (and guess what) we were in Manila Clark, right country, right city, unfortunately wrong
airport to make our next connecting flight, I asked the customs officer (there was no information desk) how far it was to Manila international about an hour and a half he replied, just the time the Iloilo flight was due to take off, the customs officer rushed us out of the airport and to the taxi stand where he commandeered the only taxi and ordered the taxi driver to take us to Manila international.
Three hours later and we pulled up to the airport, we paid the Taxi (about 2500 peso) and got out, as the taxi pulled away three security guards came over and asked where we were going, we showed them our ticket for our missed flight and asked if there was another flight "no, no all flights have left tonight and you are at the wrong airport, you need to be at terminal 2, “how far is it to terminal 2 I asked more than a little frustrated by this time“ about 10-15 minutes (by taxi) was the reply, by now I am starting to think that the world has got it in for me, I'm tired, dirty and just want to sleep, but we have
no local currency (we had paid all we had to the taxi driver)and we needed to get in touch with Emma's cousin Paul to let him know that we had missed our flight. For some reason the security guards seem keen to keep my flight tickets,(we discovered that you could claim a refund on the tickets even if you where a no show) so after wrestling our tickets back out of the security guards hands, we arranged with a new taxi driver to go to an ATM so that we could (pay him) find a room for the night and ring Paul to bring him up to speed as to our very slow progress so far, one of the security guards came with us to “recommend” a hotel near the airport we could stay in, so we grabbed some cash and headed to hotel, a slightly seedy looking place, but it is clean-ish and quiet-ish and we are tired so we book in and dump our packs, next it's back to the airport to book a new flight to Iloilo and then get in touch with Paul and say that we are very sorry but we missed our flight and
that we would now be arriving tomorrow, as it turns out when we did not arrive Paul checked on the internet and found out we where a no show for the flight.
So after our errands it was time for some food, the lady at the hotel said that the restaurant opposite served nice food (she lied), so we crossed the road and went in, as we entered all faces turned and stared at us like a scene from some old movie, it was then that it struck us that most of the occupants were women dressed in very short red dresses (we later learned that they are referred to as GRO's, guest relations officers)and most were entertaining gentleman friends, the lady who seemed to be in charge came over and after looking at Emma asked if we just wanted to eat and drink we answered with a positive and sat in a corner and ordered our drinks and a meal, closely watched by everyone in the room.
To be honest we did not dawdle over our meal nor linger with our drinks as we felt we where cramping the local ladies styles and they seemed to want
to get on with there business, so back across the road into the hotel (which is now getting a little noisier) with GROs and there guests, and restless nights sleep. In the morning we check our quickly and grab a cab (which costs us about 100 pesos not the 250 as the cabbie said it would be) back to the airport and through another series of security checks and a little while later we are finally on our plane to Iloilo and a well earned rest.
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Rich Newman
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Trials and tribulations
Come on you now you love it. I'd give anything to have another exciting day like that. All the times you've been on a beautiful beach or relaxed drinking beer in a lovely bar, you'll forget those moments but always remember the time when getting to Iloilo almost didn't happen. Well I guess it kind of didn't, but it did in the end...you know what I mean. Also the Indian Embassy is a mere sign of things to come. Prepare your badselves for the baffling madness that is Indian Bureaucracy . :) Seriously though, it's great to hear you guys are still having a good time. You know there is no cure for this addiction don't you, I've been back home for only 6 months and already have been to Hungary and Canada, and I'm going back to Montreal in a few weeks...but where for the summer? Fancy meeting back at Everest? Only this time on the Nepali side? :) All the best, Rich