Rich

The approach to Fort Santiago never loses its effect, no matter how many times you make it. You cross the stone bridge over the moat, the Pasig River visible to your left, the bay somewhere behind the walls to your right, and then you pass under the main gate. The archway is massive. The stonework

I have been to San Agustín Church more times than I can count, and the approach still gets me every time. You come through the streets of Intramuros — past the walls, past the vendors, through the shade of the old city — and then the façade appears. Four centuries of Spanish Baroque stonework rising

My mother-in-law, Rosaria, and father-in-law, Enrique, had a plan for my first day in Manila. They were going to show me everything. The bay. The boulevard. The neighborhood markets. The relatives, and there were many of those. By mid-afternoon, we had covered more of Manila than I had managed in a week in most other

From The Manila Hotel, Rizal Park is right there. Cross Roxas Boulevard in the morning, early enough to beat the heat and the crowds, and you walk straight into it. The Rizal Monument is visible almost immediately. A 12-meter bronze figure rising above the sunken garden at the park’s eastern end. The honor guard flanking

The first time you pass through the gates of Intramuros, you feel the shift before you understand it. Modern Manila disappears. The noise doesn’t. This is still a city, but the register changes. Cobblestones replace asphalt. Walls that have absorbed four centuries of history rise on either side. You are no longer in contemporary Manila.