The Castle
- Thread starter Captain Halliday
- Start date
Captain Halliday
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More delays
After taxing off the runway, we took a couple of turns and came to a complete stop within sight of the terminal.
The captain advised there would be a short delay while we waited for a gate.
After more than 30 minutes and a couple of updates from the flight deck, the cabin crew began a very informal service offering water, soft drink, packets of chips and ice cream sandwiches (*may contain traces of nuts and be starting to melt).
Opening the bar made it clear the short delay, would be anything but short.
The seatbelt sign remained on, but no attempt was made to stop the conga line of people heading to the loo.
The delay was so long I managed to watch 6 x 25 min episodes of Colin from Accounts (Aussie comedy: highly recommend).
Throughout there were more than half-a-dozen announcements from the flight deck.
It was good to be kept informed, even though none of these updates added any new information.
After more than two hours at the holding point, we began to move and eventually pulled up at the gate just after 2100, more than 3 hours late.
The 3am alarm was beginning to take its toll.
We were keen for quick exit and taxi to the hotel.
But our day of delays still had a long way to go.
After taxing off the runway, we took a couple of turns and came to a complete stop within sight of the terminal.
The captain advised there would be a short delay while we waited for a gate.
After more than 30 minutes and a couple of updates from the flight deck, the cabin crew began a very informal service offering water, soft drink, packets of chips and ice cream sandwiches (*may contain traces of nuts and be starting to melt).
Opening the bar made it clear the short delay, would be anything but short.
The seatbelt sign remained on, but no attempt was made to stop the conga line of people heading to the loo.
The delay was so long I managed to watch 6 x 25 min episodes of Colin from Accounts (Aussie comedy: highly recommend).
Throughout there were more than half-a-dozen announcements from the flight deck.
It was good to be kept informed, even though none of these updates added any new information.
After more than two hours at the holding point, we began to move and eventually pulled up at the gate just after 2100, more than 3 hours late.
The 3am alarm was beginning to take its toll.
We were keen for quick exit and taxi to the hotel.
But our day of delays still had a long way to go.
Captain Halliday
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Sweating on being found
We walked into the Manila terminal to be hit by a wall of humidity.
The storm had apparently taken out the air conditioning.
Thousands of tired and frustrated passengers, all overdue for a shower, lamented airport security confiscating their deodorant.
The two portable air conditioning units set up by airport staff didn’t stand a chance.
We joined the queue for international passport-holders, and I set about estimating how long we’d be waiting.
Towards the front of the queue I spotted a man in a cowboy hat.
He was about a dozen places from the front of the queue.
Between him and us, easily another 200.
I checked the time and waited for the cowboy hat to disappear.
8 minutes.
I quickly did the maths.
My sleep-deprived brain strained like the portable air conditioners.
A dozen people processed in 8 minutes.
200 to go.
The answer was as unpleasant as the heat.
Surely it wouldn’t take two hours.
As we settled in for the long wait, Mrs H needed the loo.
While she was gone an airport officially ushered us toward the much shorter Philippine Passport Holder queue.
Not wanting to be separated from Mrs H, we tried to stay where we were.
The official spoke no English.
I spoke no Filipino.
He flashed his badge and pointed.
A language I understood.
We reluctantly moved.
But we were now separated from Mrs H, and in a different place to where she’d left us.
In sea of sweaty people jostling to get through Immigration, Mrs H would need a minor miracle to find us.
We walked into the Manila terminal to be hit by a wall of humidity.
The storm had apparently taken out the air conditioning.
Thousands of tired and frustrated passengers, all overdue for a shower, lamented airport security confiscating their deodorant.
The two portable air conditioning units set up by airport staff didn’t stand a chance.
We joined the queue for international passport-holders, and I set about estimating how long we’d be waiting.
Towards the front of the queue I spotted a man in a cowboy hat.
He was about a dozen places from the front of the queue.
Between him and us, easily another 200.
I checked the time and waited for the cowboy hat to disappear.
8 minutes.
I quickly did the maths.
My sleep-deprived brain strained like the portable air conditioners.
A dozen people processed in 8 minutes.
200 to go.
The answer was as unpleasant as the heat.
Surely it wouldn’t take two hours.
As we settled in for the long wait, Mrs H needed the loo.
While she was gone an airport officially ushered us toward the much shorter Philippine Passport Holder queue.
Not wanting to be separated from Mrs H, we tried to stay where we were.
The official spoke no English.
I spoke no Filipino.
He flashed his badge and pointed.
A language I understood.
We reluctantly moved.
But we were now separated from Mrs H, and in a different place to where she’d left us.
In sea of sweaty people jostling to get through Immigration, Mrs H would need a minor miracle to find us.
I love to travel
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Your sense of humour in dealing with the situation is admirable.
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Pushka
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Clearly trying to re-create the tension he experienced. It's going to be a long series.
Flyfrequently
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Loving your take on this @Captain Halliday - joining you on this journey with much interest!
Perhaps you should be "Admiral" ( as in admirable!) Halliday!
Last edited:
Captain Halliday
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Another win for HLO
Waiting.
Sweating.
Miss H and I began to discuss the options.
First was to leave the queue, wait for Mrs H and risk life in prison for disobeying an airport official.
Even if we avoided arrest, we’d be back at the end of the ever-growing queue.
The second possibility was for Miss H to go in search of her mother.
An unaccompanied child, alone in the airport of foreign country where she doesn’t speak the language. What could possibly go wrong?
Option three was for Miss H to wait in the Immigration queue while I went in search of Mrs H.
This would still leave Miss H unattended, and while we’d keep our place in the queue, divorce was real possibility.
We took the only sensible option: let Mrs H figure it out for herself.
By now we were somewhere in the middle of the heaving mass of frustrated passengers.
Weaving our way through the maze of retractable tape barriers, even the Where’s Wally World Champion would have struggled to spot us.
Mrs H had been gone for some time.
Too long.
My anxiety began to rise.
I held no fears for her safety… but the longer Mrs H was gone, the more I was in danger.
It was Miss H who eventually spotted her mother.
Flustered and unhappy, Mrs H gestured forcefully towards where she last saw us.
Adjectives were exclaimed.
But in the end, the heat and general tiredness took their toll.
Despite her best efforts, Mrs H simply couldn’t muster the outrage.
After more than an hour, we eventually passed through Immigration.
As we descended the escalator into the baggage hall we were met by more scenes of chaos.
Most of the lights were out.
It was almost dark.
Not a single carousel was moving.
Luggage was everywhere.
Bags were being brought out by staff one by one, but in no apparent order.
Tired and irritable passengers were walking the hall looking for their bags.
Stepping off the escalator, we headed straight for the exit.
In that moment, the hand-luggage only declaration was vindicated.
I emerged landside feeling just a little smug.
But as they say, pride comes before a fall.
Waiting.
Sweating.
Miss H and I began to discuss the options.
First was to leave the queue, wait for Mrs H and risk life in prison for disobeying an airport official.
Even if we avoided arrest, we’d be back at the end of the ever-growing queue.
The second possibility was for Miss H to go in search of her mother.
An unaccompanied child, alone in the airport of foreign country where she doesn’t speak the language. What could possibly go wrong?
Option three was for Miss H to wait in the Immigration queue while I went in search of Mrs H.
This would still leave Miss H unattended, and while we’d keep our place in the queue, divorce was real possibility.
We took the only sensible option: let Mrs H figure it out for herself.
By now we were somewhere in the middle of the heaving mass of frustrated passengers.
Weaving our way through the maze of retractable tape barriers, even the Where’s Wally World Champion would have struggled to spot us.
Mrs H had been gone for some time.
Too long.
My anxiety began to rise.
I held no fears for her safety… but the longer Mrs H was gone, the more I was in danger.
It was Miss H who eventually spotted her mother.
Flustered and unhappy, Mrs H gestured forcefully towards where she last saw us.
Adjectives were exclaimed.
But in the end, the heat and general tiredness took their toll.
Despite her best efforts, Mrs H simply couldn’t muster the outrage.
After more than an hour, we eventually passed through Immigration.
As we descended the escalator into the baggage hall we were met by more scenes of chaos.
Most of the lights were out.
It was almost dark.
Not a single carousel was moving.
Luggage was everywhere.
Bags were being brought out by staff one by one, but in no apparent order.
Tired and irritable passengers were walking the hall looking for their bags.
Stepping off the escalator, we headed straight for the exit.
In that moment, the hand-luggage only declaration was vindicated.
I emerged landside feeling just a little smug.
But as they say, pride comes before a fall.
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Loving your report very much @Captain Halliday - the suspense is thrilling!
Captain Halliday
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- Posts
- 4,688
A taxing taxi ride
After 20 hours of travel and approaching 11pm, we made our way through a swarm of scammers all offering a transport bargain.
Reaching what seemed to be the official taxi queue, I asked the dispatcher to confirm a taxi that accepted credit cards.
He told me in no uncertain terms the taxis were cash only.
This was despite google telling me before the trip that credit cards were widely accepted by taxis in Manila.
After begging forgiveness, I left the family kerbside, and headed back to the terminal to find a cash machine.
I was denied entry at the first door and directed to a different entry 200 metres away.
There I joined a queue to pass through security screening.
Yep, security screening just to get to the baggage claim area.
Once inside, I located a working cash machine ready to punish me for my poor planning.
After the ATM fee, bank fee and currency conversion fee, my very modest withdrawal was subjected to a 27% surcharge.
It felt like an armed robbery.
As if that wasn’t bad enough… I’d also been robbed of the time I’d saved skipping the broken baggage carousel.
Now desperate for sleep, we bundled ourselves into a beaten-up old taxi that looked like it had been in some kind of bumper car rally.
Even as midnight drew near, the streets of Manila were utter chaos.
Drivers, including ours, treated traffic signals as a mere suggestion.
Line markings were routinely ignored.
Motorcycles designed for one, strained under the weight of three passengers.
Blaring sirens and car horns outside did nothing to drown out dreadful cover versions of questionable 80s hits that our driver clearly adored.
The bumps and scratches on our taxi began to make sense as our Philippine karaoke cab pinballed its way through the city.
Kept awake only by the wild ride, we arrived at the hotel to find our day of delays had one final delay in store.
After 20 hours of travel and approaching 11pm, we made our way through a swarm of scammers all offering a transport bargain.
Reaching what seemed to be the official taxi queue, I asked the dispatcher to confirm a taxi that accepted credit cards.
He told me in no uncertain terms the taxis were cash only.
This was despite google telling me before the trip that credit cards were widely accepted by taxis in Manila.
After begging forgiveness, I left the family kerbside, and headed back to the terminal to find a cash machine.
I was denied entry at the first door and directed to a different entry 200 metres away.
There I joined a queue to pass through security screening.
Yep, security screening just to get to the baggage claim area.
Once inside, I located a working cash machine ready to punish me for my poor planning.
After the ATM fee, bank fee and currency conversion fee, my very modest withdrawal was subjected to a 27% surcharge.
It felt like an armed robbery.
As if that wasn’t bad enough… I’d also been robbed of the time I’d saved skipping the broken baggage carousel.
Now desperate for sleep, we bundled ourselves into a beaten-up old taxi that looked like it had been in some kind of bumper car rally.
Even as midnight drew near, the streets of Manila were utter chaos.
Drivers, including ours, treated traffic signals as a mere suggestion.
Line markings were routinely ignored.
Motorcycles designed for one, strained under the weight of three passengers.
Blaring sirens and car horns outside did nothing to drown out dreadful cover versions of questionable 80s hits that our driver clearly adored.
The bumps and scratches on our taxi began to make sense as our Philippine karaoke cab pinballed its way through the city.
Kept awake only by the wild ride, we arrived at the hotel to find our day of delays had one final delay in store.
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I'm really enjoying your trip report, although for my own selfish reasons. I've showed to MrsK, commenting that "... see, you complain about the way I behave when we travel, look it could be a lot worse".
Captain Halliday
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Sofitel Manila Philippine Plaza
Our Manila hotel was the Sofitel.
Despite being the only guests arriving just after midnight, check-in still took almost 10 mins.
Paperwork was not pre-prepared and drink vouchers were written out while we waited.
It was unnecessarily slow.
Our three night stay actually comprised two bookings.
For two nights, I’d used a Suite Night Upgrade.
Our third night was booked some months later following a schedule change by JL, so we anticipated moving to a standard room for our final night.
But we were pleased to find we’d been granted a suite for all three nights.
Despite an email before arrival to confirming bedding for Miss H, it was frustrating to find the sofa bed was not made up.
It was disappointing for a five-star property, made worse by having to wait a considerable time for housekeeping.
It meant a further 20 minutes delay before Miss H could get to bed.
Now getting close to 1am - and more than 24 hours after our journey began - we were asleep within seconds of housekeeping leaving the room..
It meant that exploring the room and its features had to wait until morning.
Our room was a corner suite overlooking the pool and harbour.
According to the fire plan behind the door, this was the second largest room on the floor.
The suite included a large lounge area.
Expansive bar, big enough to accommodate a self-contained kitchen.
The large bedroom included a work desk (not pictured) and ample charging points.
The bathroom included both a bath and large walk-in rain shower.
The suite included a wrap-around balcony with a view of the pool below.
Beyond that, the Manila CBD.
But the view at the front of the room might not last long, with what appears to be a reclamation of the harbour underway:
We were also provided a fruit bowl and four bottles of water.
At night, the view was also good.
While the suite and views were impressive, the breakfast was next level.
Our Manila hotel was the Sofitel.
Despite being the only guests arriving just after midnight, check-in still took almost 10 mins.
Paperwork was not pre-prepared and drink vouchers were written out while we waited.
It was unnecessarily slow.
Our three night stay actually comprised two bookings.
For two nights, I’d used a Suite Night Upgrade.
Our third night was booked some months later following a schedule change by JL, so we anticipated moving to a standard room for our final night.
But we were pleased to find we’d been granted a suite for all three nights.
Despite an email before arrival to confirming bedding for Miss H, it was frustrating to find the sofa bed was not made up.
It was disappointing for a five-star property, made worse by having to wait a considerable time for housekeeping.
It meant a further 20 minutes delay before Miss H could get to bed.
Now getting close to 1am - and more than 24 hours after our journey began - we were asleep within seconds of housekeeping leaving the room..
It meant that exploring the room and its features had to wait until morning.
Our room was a corner suite overlooking the pool and harbour.
According to the fire plan behind the door, this was the second largest room on the floor.
The suite included a large lounge area.
Expansive bar, big enough to accommodate a self-contained kitchen.
The large bedroom included a work desk (not pictured) and ample charging points.
The bathroom included both a bath and large walk-in rain shower.
The suite included a wrap-around balcony with a view of the pool below.
Beyond that, the Manila CBD.
But the view at the front of the room might not last long, with what appears to be a reclamation of the harbour underway:
We were also provided a fruit bowl and four bottles of water.
At night, the view was also good.
While the suite and views were impressive, the breakfast was next level.
Captain Halliday
Established Member
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- Jun 1, 2014
- Posts
- 4,688
Brilliant breakfast
After a sleep in, we made our way to the breakfast buffet.
Named after the staircase that is the centrepiece of the restaurant, Spiral is set up like an Asian street market with 21 individual stations offering almost anything you could possibly want at breakfast.
It is the biggest and most spectacular breakfast buffet I’ve seen.
French and Filipino cuisine are well represented, but the restraint boasts a global selection of breakfast dishes.
There’s also L’Ecailler, the “cheese room”.
Temperature controlled, it contains a wide variety of cheese and cured meats.
For a five-star restaurant, the absence of barista coffee was really the only downside.
Tucked beneath the stairs the restaurant has an impressive cellar.
A staff member was also walking the floor offering the Philippine snack food Taho – prepared at your table.
It’s a combination of soft tofu, sago pearls and arnibal (a brown sugar syrup).
If Taho’s not your thing, you can always finish (or start) your breakfast like Miss H and me - at the dessert buffet.
After a sleep in, we made our way to the breakfast buffet.
Named after the staircase that is the centrepiece of the restaurant, Spiral is set up like an Asian street market with 21 individual stations offering almost anything you could possibly want at breakfast.
It is the biggest and most spectacular breakfast buffet I’ve seen.
French and Filipino cuisine are well represented, but the restraint boasts a global selection of breakfast dishes.
There’s also L’Ecailler, the “cheese room”.
Temperature controlled, it contains a wide variety of cheese and cured meats.
For a five-star restaurant, the absence of barista coffee was really the only downside.
Tucked beneath the stairs the restaurant has an impressive cellar.
A staff member was also walking the floor offering the Philippine snack food Taho – prepared at your table.
It’s a combination of soft tofu, sago pearls and arnibal (a brown sugar syrup).
If Taho’s not your thing, you can always finish (or start) your breakfast like Miss H and me - at the dessert buffet.
Captain Halliday
Established Member
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- Jun 1, 2014
- Posts
- 4,688
Chocolaterie
One of the features of the restaurant is the Chocolaterie.
It's closed at breakfast, but staff were hard at work making sweet treats from early each day.
Our stay was just before Father’s Day, most of the chocolates on display followed the theme.
Chocolates were on show around the restaurant.
Remarkably, very few were in cabinets or display cases.
In a busy restaurant packed with children it was amazing more weren’t damaged.
For example, this guy was about 60cm high, sitting atop a cabinet right next to the cereal.
Asking for trouble.
On the display tables, a small break or two could be seen.
The detail in some of the designs was incredible.
All three of us have a sweet tooth, but somehow not a single chocolate was consumed during our stay.
One of the features of the restaurant is the Chocolaterie.
It's closed at breakfast, but staff were hard at work making sweet treats from early each day.
Our stay was just before Father’s Day, most of the chocolates on display followed the theme.
Chocolates were on show around the restaurant.
Remarkably, very few were in cabinets or display cases.
In a busy restaurant packed with children it was amazing more weren’t damaged.
For example, this guy was about 60cm high, sitting atop a cabinet right next to the cereal.
Asking for trouble.
On the display tables, a small break or two could be seen.
The detail in some of the designs was incredible.
All three of us have a sweet tooth, but somehow not a single chocolate was consumed during our stay.
craven morehead
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Bloody awesome!
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very well written captain
you have a way with words that is very pleasing and humorous.
you have a way with words that is very pleasing and humorous.
Youfah Mizzum
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- Apr 16, 2007
- Posts
- 166
Great report @Captain Halliday
I was wondering what HLO was, until post #29. Seems you and me are cut from the same cloth, as is Mrs H and Mrs Mizzum
I was wondering what HLO was, until post #29. Seems you and me are cut from the same cloth, as is Mrs H and Mrs Mizzum
Captain Halliday
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Access denied
Our three days in Manila were mostly spent in the pool or napping in the suite.
The hotel was chosen as a bit of a treat for the family.
The rest of our trip is in far more modest digs.
In my first year as Accor Platinum, we were also keen to try the well-regarded executive lounge.
On our first full day when we tried to access the lounge, we were denied entry with Miss H.
The lounge staff claimed children were not permitted.
I showed staff the published terms on the Accor website, but they wouldn’t budge.
At reception I spoke with the duty manager.
She also wouldn’t budge and produced this price list, claiming the last line to be evidence of the no-children policy.
Instead, she offered to book us a table at the downstairs bar and provide snacks.
Sadly, this wasn’t even close to comparable with the full buffet offered in Club Millesime.
It was a major failure for a property claiming five-star status to deny a clearly published benefit.
But the disappointment continued with service at the bar incredibly slow and in no way 5 star.
It was almost comical at times.
I ordered a red wine and watched as our waiter walked through reception, stepped into the lift and disappeared.
He reappeared soon after with a half empty bottle of red wine, presumably from Club Millesime.
Strangely the very same wine was offered on the wine list at the downstairs bar.
To his credit, the waiter acknowledged the slow service and offered warm rolls with butter as an apology.
But I suspect this wasn’t the first outing for this dish of butter.
Guest at other tables received neat, round circles.
Ours was a hacked at, half-circle, covered with baking paper.
Service for all three days at the downstairs bar was patchy.
Finger food was presented high-tea style and Miss H certainly enjoyed the treats, though it was clear these had also been gathered from the lounge.
Dry bread for the cheese sandwiches was the giveaway.
The room, pool and breakfast were all terrific.
This should have been a phenomenal stay.
However, stubborn and argumentative staff in both the lounge and at the front desk, let the hotel down badly.
Sofitel Philippine Plaza is now top if my do not stay list.
Our three days in Manila were mostly spent in the pool or napping in the suite.
The hotel was chosen as a bit of a treat for the family.
The rest of our trip is in far more modest digs.
In my first year as Accor Platinum, we were also keen to try the well-regarded executive lounge.
On our first full day when we tried to access the lounge, we were denied entry with Miss H.
The lounge staff claimed children were not permitted.
I showed staff the published terms on the Accor website, but they wouldn’t budge.
At reception I spoke with the duty manager.
She also wouldn’t budge and produced this price list, claiming the last line to be evidence of the no-children policy.
Instead, she offered to book us a table at the downstairs bar and provide snacks.
Sadly, this wasn’t even close to comparable with the full buffet offered in Club Millesime.
It was a major failure for a property claiming five-star status to deny a clearly published benefit.
But the disappointment continued with service at the bar incredibly slow and in no way 5 star.
It was almost comical at times.
I ordered a red wine and watched as our waiter walked through reception, stepped into the lift and disappeared.
He reappeared soon after with a half empty bottle of red wine, presumably from Club Millesime.
Strangely the very same wine was offered on the wine list at the downstairs bar.
To his credit, the waiter acknowledged the slow service and offered warm rolls with butter as an apology.
But I suspect this wasn’t the first outing for this dish of butter.
Guest at other tables received neat, round circles.
Ours was a hacked at, half-circle, covered with baking paper.
Service for all three days at the downstairs bar was patchy.
Finger food was presented high-tea style and Miss H certainly enjoyed the treats, though it was clear these had also been gathered from the lounge.
Dry bread for the cheese sandwiches was the giveaway.
The room, pool and breakfast were all terrific.
This should have been a phenomenal stay.
However, stubborn and argumentative staff in both the lounge and at the front desk, let the hotel down badly.
Sofitel Philippine Plaza is now top if my do not stay list.
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