Bit of a mess really. No City centre as such, just a ragbag series of non-descript neighbourhoods held together by a perpetual jam of traffic.
It's noisy, dirty, overcrowded and - unless you're staying at one of the vulgar big air-conditioned tourist hotels - extremely humid and sticky.
The place is not without it's charms though, especially at night when the neon lit bars and restaurants burst into life and previously lack-lustre streets start buzzing.
Our digs are little oasis of calm right in the middle of all the craziness. Built in the style of an old Spanish hacienda a 100 years or so ago, it boasts antique furniture, a pretty walled garden and an absolute gem of a swimming pool.
A night's stay at Bianca's Garden guesthouse sets us back a tenner, which was how much I paid for Wend's Mojito last time we were daft enough to have a drink in The Charlotte Street Hotel. Can't recommend the place highly enough.
Special mention should also be made of that most quirky of Philippine icons; The Jeepney.
Half Jeep, half Bus, these smoke-belching kitchmobiles are everywhere. Predominately metallic silver and garish yellow, they are generally festooned with badly painted religious imagery, obscure philosophical quotes and any amount of other random tat.
They look great, especially when fully laden, but we're yet to pluck up the courage to hop on board.
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