Running on empty and loving it! Mostly...

How I survived the last two full days of my life as a resident of Facundo Street, Pasay City, I have no idea. After leaving the Aznar family compound at 11:00 a.m. Thursday, I didn't get home until 36 hours later, grabbed 7 hours of recovery sleep, then headed to the airport for 14 hours worth of flying plus endless waiting around in airports.

If you don't want to know about my lousy Thursday morning, which has no photos, scroll down to the photo part. If you want some drama, or whininess (depending on your perspective) read on. It also explains some interesting things I learned about Manila's public transportation system.

I had made lunch plans to meet a friend of a Winnipeg friend, now living and working in Manila. This would be my only chance to meet up, for which I sacrificed a ride with my gracious host in his comfortable car to Carol's family resort, the far-away site of our band's wind-up party. My own stubbornness thought it would be a good idea to walk the 3.4 km to my lunch-friend's workplace in 30 degree heat at mid-morning. Armed with a mango shake, I arrived at the agreed meeting place a bit early and waited - and waited and waited for a good half hour. Finally I went inside and asked someone as to the whereabouts of my friend. A woman came over and said he had called in sick that morning and would not be in at all that day.

I was nearly in tears. I was sure I had messaged the ailing culprit my borrowed Philippine cell number several times but hadn't heard a peep and the phone was fully loaded. I assumed he was delirious to give him the benefit of a doubt - I was not far off - he messaged me two days later to apologize - he'd been quite seriously ill. Meantime, I was really put out. Hot and hungry, I now had to make my way to the middle of nowhere by some form of public transport, by myself. Normally, I wouldn't mind but I was really hungry and annoyed. I messaged Carol who sympathized and gave me instructions, reassuring that I could easily catch a bus to the far town near her resort anywhere along the main road. She was my voice of reason and my guardian angel at that moment - and I was so thankful to have a local cell phone!

Cranky and miserable, I forced myself to talk to a young man standing along the main road. As my grandmother always said, "The answer is on the tip of your tongue in the form of a question. All you need to do is to ask someone." Indeed, he said, a bus to where I was going would stop anywhere along the road - I just had to wave it over. So convenient - not like here where you have to wait forever at a particular bus stop.

When you get on the bus, instead of paying at the door, you take a seat, and a person eventually wanders back and collects money and hands out little tickets marked with where you are going. My fare came to only 51 php - really decent considering how far I was going. A tiny TV set hanging above the windshield was playing some kind of Filipino war movie and the speaker system was really good quality.

The man next to me noticed me studying my Manila street map as we got closer to Cavite and offered to let me know when to get off. Again, very helpful. I messaged Carol to let her know I had arrived as per her instructions and ducked into a Chowking to grab a bite, expecting to wait for a good half hour at least. I'd barely finished eating when Arnel, the resort's manager messaged me. They had already arrived! The resort wasn't as far as I had thought. AND I wasn't as late as I had thought.

Gazebos at the Resort.

Mr. P's favourite spot.

A peaceful place to be.

Arnel, Mr. P's right-hand-man.

So inviting. Ideas for my back yard!

Perfect place for a wind-up party.

Only a few members of the band had arrived when I got there. Alfie and family, Ramil and Pet had swum in the beautiful pool and were enjoying billiards and karaoke.

When Rain and his family arrived, he pulled out a file containing clippings of the band in its heyday that he had saved.

"When we were 20 years younger and 20 pounds lighter!"

Soon the others arrived with wives, children, and musical instruments. A drum kit started to assemble and oblong black cases started to pile up in the gazebo we were going to use. Joel was in the kitchen cooking up a storm - not for an Arabian prince this time, but for his friends.

Food fit for a prince.

After huge amounts of food was consumed, a hookah appeared from somewhere and the boys started to imitate Alice in Wonderland's Cheshire Cat, sly grins and all.

Everyone EXCEPT Bebet played the drums.

This was the only known moment that our drummer actually sat at the drums the whole evening!

Future drummer of Half Life Half Death: little Leila!

Carol proving she's MORE than just a pretty face and back-up singer!

Ramil the drummer - and bass player and guitarist and singer and video editor and.....oh never mind!

All the boys at one point drummed, played bass or guitar, all equally well, and Ramil even picked up my fiddle just for fun.

"eek!eek!eek!"

The music started as soon as Rain picked up his guitar and didn't stop until he put it down. It was as if he were taking full advantage of playing one last time with the whole group, savouring every precious moment.

Rain's natural appendage, also known as his heart and soul.

Now THIS is a party!

Out of the blue and as a complete surprise, Aldrin suddenly presented Alfie and I with an oil painting he had done especially for each of us. This journalist and extraordinary musician had also recently taken up painting. Alfie later inquired the titles from Aldrin who explained that Alfie's was called "A Dance for the Union of Two Moons" and mine was "How we ended as lovers." I was moved to tears.

Alfie and I with our beautiful gifts from our friend, artist, writer and musician Aldrin Cardona: "A Dance for the Union of Two Moons" for Alfie and "How We Ended as Lovers" for me.

And of course where there's one friend, there are many.

Our photographer friend, Omai (known as the silent member of the band) arrived as everyone was leaving just in time to scavenge some of Joel's amazing cooking. He presented me with two discs of photos - especially culled from his millions for me - and also gave me a gift from Bacalod, from where he'd just flown having been caught in the 6.8 earthquake! He'd been there on a photo shoot assignment and ended up in the middle of the excitement.

Omai's arrival heralded departure for Pet and I, since our friend was our ride to the next adventure, a hot air balloon festival in Pampanga. He drove us to his brother's house which was somewhere between the resort and Pasay City, and we slept for one whole hour. Then Pet - incredibly more awake than I - got us up with an alarm, what seemed like minutes after I dozed off. And off we went. More later...