5:30pm. Right on time. We approached the bay walk as the sun hung low in an orange-tinged sky. On the sea wall, many had already found their perch for the upcoming attraction: sunset. We joined them in sitting on the sun-baked sea wall.
I find Manila Bay perfectly encompasses two aspects of life in the Philippines: stunning natural beauty and the busyness of life. Look out to sea and you see serenity, the calming rhythm of the waves sloshing against the shore, the gentle bobbing of distant ships, the gently descending sun. Turn back to the bay walk and you find local children running and shouting along the wall, a mother with sun-loved skin calling after them, three lanes of heavy traffic along Roxas boulevard, local vendors peddling their wares, the occasional motorbike or bicycle speeding along the path. It really is one of my favourite spots in the world.
To the right of where we sat, a large group of local kids stood on the rocks posing for a photo taken by a foreign tourist. A girl and her farther, sat on the salty rocks, looked over to see what the commotion was. A few locals were swimming in the water, despite the DOH issuing a health warning about the waters just a month before. For many, it’s a tradition. Out at sea, a single fisherman sat hunched in his boat, a lonely silhouette.
We walked further along. Every twenty or thirty yards were small signs advertising massages. These street-masseurs provide shoulder rubs as you watch the sun set, offering Swedish, Shiatsu, and Thai massage styles. One struck a pose and smiled when he saw that Jen had her camera out.
A woman selling buko (coconuts) walked up and down the wall, calling for customers, the green produce balanced in a basket atop her head. A pair of old men sat on the rocks, the light of a fire illuminating them. Every now and then, a Kalesa (horse and carriage) would trot by, dropping people off, the final stop on their tour of Intramuros. They’d got here at the right time.
Every eye along the bay was trained to the horizon. Emerging below a low cloud, the sun dipped its toe into the water. Rays of deep red and orange spilt out across the sea. Like paint from the tip of a dipped brush, it diffused into the water and reflected across the surface. A cruise ship glided towards the setting sun, as if it wanted to follow it to the next world. We watched them close in on the horizon until neither was in sight. It had truly been a magic hour.
I held Jen’s hand as we walked through twilight. A few couples still lay on the walls holding hands or lying in each others’ laps. I thought of my porch at home, in which hung framed photos my father had taken of my mother along this walk over twenty-five years ago. This place inspires love.
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