Sex Tourist Ch. 03

Nice Day for a New Dawn.

Within days his flight tickets arrived; then Christmas came and went. Trevor completed his list of places to go and things to do in Manila, and highlighted hotels in Angeles City where he could base himself while he learned to fly. He would depart on 20th January and return on 11th February.

The five-week countdown raced by as he hugged this exciting adventure to himself. He received a full set of free travel jabs, courtesy of the National Health Service, and was prescribed a course of ant-malarial medication. 'The last course of medication I'll pay for,' he told himself, with satisfaction. On his return, he would be sixty and his prescribed medications would, henceforth, be free-of-charge.

In the final week at work, while he made arrangements to cover his absence, he deflected polite enquiries about his holiday plans saying he hoped to book a week or so somewhere in the sun. No-one queried Trevor's lack of ambition. On the Wednesday his course of anti-malarial tablets commenced. On Friday night he was last to leave the office, working late, ensuring all his work was in good order and covered by a colleague.

On Saturday he completed packing, weighed his suitcase, laid out his travel clothes, checked his tickets and passport were in his travel pouch then, after an evening of television, retired early.

His Sunday began at five in the morning. He checked everything once more then changed into travelling clothes, made his way to the tube station, and an hour later was at Heathrow Airport. Two hours later his plane took off. Ten hours later he was ushered into a transit lounge in the Middle-East. Already he was beginning to wilt and was grateful to be able to stretch his limbs, albeit whilst being shepherded into a terminal. Two aimless hours and he was back in the air for a further eight hours. Finally, the descent to Manila was announced.

As the plane swept low across Manila Bay, Trevor's first close-up sight of land was a vast area of slum dwellings, then, as these passed out of view, low, densely packed, grey buildings, with rust-brown, corrugated roofs, through and over which ran a tangled lattice of wiring. His general impression was of dirt and decay. Tired and uncomfortable, his stomach was now unsettled by the airline food. On leaving the air-conditioned cabin to ascend the gate he first encountered the moist, warm, tropical air that carried an ever-so-slight smell of putrefaction.

The arrivals lounge was noisy, filled with excited voices talking in an incomprehensible tongue. Aware of his tiredness, he effortfully slowed down, focused, and took out and re-read the agency's instructions. He navigated immigration, baggage reclaim, and customs with ease, then passed out into an area reserved for arriving passengers, banks and taxi service booths. He was instructed to change only twenty pounds to pesos, then walk across the roadway outside the terminal building and down, into the parking area beyond. There, passengers being picked-up, met their greeters. As he approached, several people in the throng gathered at the entry, held up placards. One, read: Trevor White.

He walked towards it, a cheerful Filipina matron smiled broadly and greeted him in a sing-song voice.

"Mr White ... Hello ... Mabuhay ... Welcome to the Philippines. I am Marivic, the cousin of Imelda. I will be the one to take care of you this trip. We have our car to take you to your hotel."

Imelda's had been the voice Trevor dealt with at the agency, and she sounded very similar to her cousin. Marivic ushered him to a people-carrier, solicitously enquiring about his journey while offering him the prospect of a hearty meal and a restful night to aid recovery from his journey. She introduced the driver, Manolo, as her husband, and with she and Trevor seated in the rear, they set off. Over the hum of the vehicle's air conditioning the radio played melodic, love songs.

On exiting the car park the vehicle paused momentarily, awaiting a break in the traffic. Manolo asked his wife to check that the back doors were locked, which she did, explaining to Trevor, "It is a safety precaution. If the door is not lock when we are stationary in the gridlock, snatchers can pull open the door and grab valuables, or rob with knives, then disappear back into the traffic."

Soon they were again stationary in gridlocked traffic, and street vendors walked among the columns of vehicles selling water, soft drinks, chewing gum, foodstuffs, cigarettes, novelties and even household items. Knocking on the window to attract Trevor's attention, they looked at him with pleading eyes, holding up their wares.

"Just look straight ahead, they know you are a tourist, and they will persist if you respond with them," Marivic advised.

He looked ahead, but through the acrid petrol fumes in which they wandered he could see young boys and girls among the gaggles of unkempt and undernourished looking pedlars. Before he arrived at his hotel Trevor was in no doubt why pretty, young girls were unparticular about the age of their putative husbands.

His budget accommodation, Bianca's Garden Hotel on Adriatico Street, was more guest house than hotel, but clean and friendly, the décor authentically Filipino rather than 'anywhere international,' and the staff determined to be helpful to Marivic's client. Marivic accompanied him to his room. It was pleasant and spacious, but worn, and a little old fashioned, though having more character for that. She handed Trevor a catalogue of her currently available ladies.

"This evening, look through these bios, and pick the ladies you think will interest you. I will collect you in the morning at ten and take you to our office. I will contact your ladies, and if they are happy, arrange for them to come and meet you. We can start on Wednesday, three each day is a good number. There is a room at our office, and coffee and snacks will be available. If you need help, I can interpret for you. When you meet someone who interest you, we can arrange agreeable activities for you to enjoy while you grow closer. Please remember; our ladies are simple and shy; your job will be to make them relax and draw them out."

On her departure, Trevor immediately removed his clothes.

Shortly after disembarking, the moist air had begun to insinuate itself into his clothing, and as he perspired all the pinch points became soggy and uncomfortable. Aware of a film of slippery dampness appearing all over his body, the discomfort became greatest at his armpits, belt line, groin and feet. Lighter, looser, more comfortable clothing and shoes were required.

After showering, he opened his suitcase and sorted through the ample stock of clothing, so carefully selected and packed, only to realise it was largely unsuitable. Selecting the best available outfit for tomorrow, he hung it in the wardrobe before pulling on a pair of briefs, washing down an anti-malarial tablet with a glass of water, and standing before the mirrored wardrobe doors to appraise his bedroom appeal.

Dressed, he cut a reasonable figure, his shape holding a suit to advantage. But standing before the mirror, almost naked, he saw pallid skin, sagging muscles, all tone lost, a thick waist, and bulging belly. The girls, would see what he saw - a body unsuited to provoke maidenly lust.

'And these girls will accept me, nevertheless?'

He pondered; vaguely troubled that he would be taking advantage of their desperation.

After a light dinner accompanied by several unfamiliar, fizzy, chilled San Miguel beers, he returned to his room to leaf through the catalogue. The lamp was dim and yellow, and his eyes old, so taking his torch, he lay on the bed and picked out the half-dozen he thought prettiest - the ones with whom he would enjoy having sex. He read their bios and ranked them in order of preference. By ten, he was asleep on top of the bedclothes, the fan sweeping back and forth, pulsing drafts of cooling air over his body.

Awakened by bustling street noise around six am, though still soon after dawn he found his room already bright, the strong sunlight easily penetrating the unlined curtains. Pulling them back, he blinked at the intense brightness of the blue sky. It was as warm as an English summer's day before he showered. By the time he had eaten breakfast and returned to the room it was uncomfortably hot and humid, and his clothing was soggy. The food itself seemed to light a fire inside him, and moving only a few yards caused perspiration to well on his forehead and arms. He picked out a further change of clothes, showered once more, and lay naked under the fan, allowing his body to cool.

Half an hour before Marivic was due, he dressed again, and conceded to himself that, before he returned to the hotel, he would have to buy suitable tropical clothing.

Marivic duly collected him at ten, bearing him off to what turned out to be a business offering travel and legal services.

"We have an air conditioned office which will be for your use," she told him. "I will show you."

Through a large room, containing many desks at which people busied themselves with paperwork and phone calls, she led him into a pleasantly furnished room at the rear. There were pictures on the wall, and flowers on a low table, either side of which were comfortable chairs. She invited him to sit in one, and took the other herself.

"Have you chosen some ladies?"

He opened the catalogue and indicated his six choices.

"I will make some calls and come back to you. In the meantime, there will be coffee, and we have literature for you to read."

Trevor thumbed through the typed sheets inserted in plastic pockets clipped into a ring binder. These contained advice on what to ask the ladies, what not to ask, and what to tell them about himself. Also enclosed were lists of recommended places to eat and visit while prospective partners grew familiar.

On her return, Marivic gave Trevor a bright smile. "We have three ladies for tomorrow and two for Thursday. If you will make some more choices, we can arrange a third session for Thursday."

She then gave detailed advice on suitable topics to discuss with the ladies, and when she concluded he asked where he could shop for comfortable clothing.

Marivic dropped him off at Robinson's Mall, not too far from his hotel, advising him to buy a street map to take with him on foot excursions, and to take a taxi back if he got lost.

Back at the hotel he tried on his new outfit. Under a colourful, open-necked shirt which hung loosely over his trousers he wore a cotton T-shirt. Loose fitting, light-cream, cotton trousers piled up on his leather sandals, worn over red, cotton socks. He felt more comfortable, younger, and even a little dashing, pleased not only by the enhancement to his comfort and appearance but also by the psychological uplift derived from seeing a new image in the mirror.

At six, as dusk fell, he ate dinner, swatting away some mosquitoes, then ventured, map in hand, into the street. Although the humidity remained oppressive his shirt and waistband stayed tolerably dry. Walking back in the direction of Robinson's Mall, he felt alone and vulnerable. The street lighting was dim, the road bustling with vehicles moving noisily and erratically, filling the air with hazy fumes of incompletely burnt diesel. In the shadows, away from the road, there was noise and movement, and many of the people he passed on the pavement were slender and worn looking, bearing the hallmarks of poverty.

Tall, well fed and dressed, he imagined he stood out like a beacon in the street, and wondered what eyes followed him. Nevertheless, he navigated back to Robinson's Mall to re-enter the world of light, cleanliness and modernity, relieved to be shedding the anxieties of the street. Earlier, he had noticed a cinema complex where Pearl Harbor, a World War II epic, was playing. He paid his first visit to the cinema for many years. The evening passed enjoyably. On leaving, he thought better of walking back in the gloaming, having already tested his nerve abroad at night in a strange city, and hailed a taxi.

Back in his room his spirits were high. In new and unaccustomed clothing, with the frisson of apprehension he felt walking in the street, and the relish of the movie still fresh, he was palpably aware of an adventure under way. He could feel that something had changed, something had been achieved.

Opening his suitcase, the contents appeared to belong to another man - a somewhat greyer person.