It’s warm, 35 degrees. Our car picks us up from the airport and we head into the manic manila traffic. Asia hits our senses; roads gridlocked with jeepneys, tricycles, motor bikes, taxi, buses, the noise of incessant horns tooting, with a lack of rain; the pungent smell from the stagnant drains mingled with smoke in the air. Ahh Asia, we love it! As we head into the business district, cars, mainly SUVs, join the fun. Every rentable vehicle has its own name, jeepneys, tricycles and even taxis, like Maurice, Batman, Sweetheart or Bigma. We are staying in the red light district for foreigners, its cheap, I assure you that’s the only reason! There are a few bars full of old European men and, in the streets, Filipino women. Once again Carl gets regularly offered Viagra, and
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