It's counting down.
I'm out of here in 48 hours.
Never thought Manila would grow on me.
I was seriously contemplating changing my flight and leaving after the first few days.
Then I found a dentist.
Then the heart palpitations stopped. It had to be a festering tooth which Dr. John would sort out.
A shard of a filling was biting into my gum.
Eating Mentos on arrival outside the airport had dislodged an expensive filling I got in Indonesia.
Like a trance, I walked down the road and stopped at a dental clinic with posters of before and after smiles on the front window.
It would be a good start.
A week later, I have a mouth full of porcelain. My smile doesn't look half bad either.
I wasn't supposed to take the flight from Kuching in Sarawak to Manila. The night before I had already decided it would get in the way of my walks and routine.
I tested myself. A knock on my door by Thomas the night reception set the ball rolling.
I'm leaving soon.
I haven't left my hood for over three weeks.
I don't need to. The stories are still coming to me.
I got ripped off by the taxi driver from the airport.
It was out of my control.
But not taking taxis or day trips was in my control.
If you want to be a real traveler, just stay close to your hotel.
It's invigorating.
I'm resisting LA Cafe.
Apparently white men are in demand there.
I won't be tempted.
I must resist.
I have a flight to catch.
I can't ruin all the good work of surviving Manila by following the whimsical demands of my Bronco Jones.
I'll resist.
I'm still smarting over being ripped off in Bali by that evil Hindu driver who got me into so much trouble.
My wallet hasn't stopped complaining.
Watch out for the Hindu humbuggers, they are the best.
That seems a lifetime ago.
My smile seems new. I'm still learning to speak and chew with my new teeth.
I don't dare look at the makeover in the mirror. The person looking back at me is someone else.
Dr. John wasn't wrong when he said I wouldn't like the old me. It will put my ememies back in Oz into a head spin.
Thus ends the saga of the teeth which have fueled most of my books, one way or another.
I'm out of here in 48 hours.
Never thought Manila would grow on me.
I was seriously contemplating changing my flight and leaving after the first few days.
Then I found a dentist.
Then the heart palpitations stopped. It had to be a festering tooth which Dr. John would sort out.
A shard of a filling was biting into my gum.
Eating Mentos on arrival outside the airport had dislodged an expensive filling I got in Indonesia.
Like a trance, I walked down the road and stopped at a dental clinic with posters of before and after smiles on the front window.
It would be a good start.
A week later, I have a mouth full of porcelain. My smile doesn't look half bad either.
I wasn't supposed to take the flight from Kuching in Sarawak to Manila. The night before I had already decided it would get in the way of my walks and routine.
I tested myself. A knock on my door by Thomas the night reception set the ball rolling.
I'm leaving soon.
I haven't left my hood for over three weeks.
I don't need to. The stories are still coming to me.
I got ripped off by the taxi driver from the airport.
It was out of my control.
But not taking taxis or day trips was in my control.
If you want to be a real traveler, just stay close to your hotel.
It's invigorating.
I'm resisting LA Cafe.
Apparently white men are in demand there.
I won't be tempted.
I must resist.
I have a flight to catch.
I can't ruin all the good work of surviving Manila by following the whimsical demands of my Bronco Jones.
I'll resist.
I'm still smarting over being ripped off in Bali by that evil Hindu driver who got me into so much trouble.
My wallet hasn't stopped complaining.
Watch out for the Hindu humbuggers, they are the best.
That seems a lifetime ago.
My smile seems new. I'm still learning to speak and chew with my new teeth.
I don't dare look at the makeover in the mirror. The person looking back at me is someone else.
Dr. John wasn't wrong when he said I wouldn't like the old me. It will put my ememies back in Oz into a head spin.
Thus ends the saga of the teeth which have fueled most of my books, one way or another.
