I’m kidding, it never seemed like a good idea at all. The only good thing about it was the prospect of saving some money and getting home sooner. Which is why I booked a 3:40 a.m. Cebu Pacific flight from Manila to Surigao City with a five-hour layover in Cebu. And got trapped there for nearly two days.
Let me explain.
I’d come to Manila for an event ending at 10 p.m. So rather than paying for another night at the hotel, I figured why not just go directly to the airport for that early flight home? And, indeed, we arrived in Cebu right on time. It was only later, descending towards Surigao City, that things went haywire.
“Uh, this is your captain speaking,” said a voice that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else’s. “Umm, we had to abort that landing because of poor visibility. Don’t worry, though, we’ll keep circling to see if it clears up. Our number one priority is your safety.”
“Oh fog!” I muttered, “we’re not gonna make it!”
I was right: 20 minutes later we tried landing again with exactly the same result. “Sorry,” the captain announced, “we’re heading back to Mactan.”
Where we were greeted, not by solicitous crew members offering their sincere apologies and personal aid, but a lengthy self-navigated hike through confusing airport terrain culminating at the back end of an unseemly mob of stranded travelers.
The only good thing about the ensuing three-hour wait was the two new Filipino friends I made. The worst thing about it was an almost-violent altercation with an irate Frenchman accusing me of cutting into a nonexistent line.
Ah, but then came my personal moment with the desk clerk holding my foggy future in her delicate hands. Unfortunately, she informed me, all flights to Surigao City were fully booked for the next several days. But wait, there was a flight to Siargao Island the next afternoon. How would I feel about being aboard?
As it happened, my wife and I were planning to spend the holidays with the kids on that island, anyway. It’s her birthplace, and just two hours by ferry from home. And so, conferring by phone, we rescheduled the trip. Ivy promised to meet me there with a week’s worth of clothing. And after spending another night at a hotel—this one mercifully paid for by the airline—I boarded a plane the next day for Siargao Island.
Not, however, the one that would eventually get me there. No, that craft was sitting on the tarmac waiting to be called into service. Which happened when the plane I did board sputtered to a stop just before takeoff. “Sorry,” said the pilot in words beginning to sound like a mantra, “kindly deplane. Our number one priority is your safety.”
After another hour of waiting in a hot bus for something to happen, we boarded the new plane and, an hour after that, hovering over Siargao Island in the still-heavy fog, made our first attempt to land.
It failed.
Ah, but then came the second attempt and, voila! despite all expectations to the contrary, I was back on holy-solid ground.
So here I am spending the holidays with my family on a remote Philippine Island where it has rained every day, usually just before the daily brownout. Internet and cell signals are sporadic at best and reliable transportation is, shall we say, sparse.
In a word, staying here is an exercise in primitive living. Which, in the Philippines, is saying a lot.
But I’ve made some new friends and learned some new things. And can honestly say that I’m gratified to be alive and in one piece back on good Mother Earth. Unlike some unfortunate passengers in South Korea this morning who deserve our earnest prayers.
That said, let me just add this wish: to everyone a happy and fruitful New Year. Filled with excitement, adventures, and lots of new sensations. And, hopefully, not too many misbehaving airplanes.
Now just say amen.
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David Haldane is an award-winning journalist and author living in Northern Mindanao. His latest book, A Tooth in My Popsicle, is available on Amazon. This column appears weekly in The Manila Times.
