Mount Pinatubo.

Those were good years. Me and Oscar used to take turns to get away. Manila was our base but we often flew over to Bangkok or Macau and Hong Kong where we did our banking. 

If Manila got too much we could pop down to Puerto Galera or up to Olongapo. If you were lucky and the typhoons weren’t too bad there was sometimes a bit of beach at Subic or Barrio Barreto and Olongapo was always a good for a few laughs. The PX there even sold Ovaltine and, wait for it, McVitie’s Digestives!

Angeles City was another place we liked. Clark Airbase was still operating so Angeles was full of wholesome young American lads. I forget who they were bombing at the time. Vietnam I think. No that can't be right...maybe Cambodia. I get muddled with dates. You want historical accuracy go somewhere else. Anyway, Clark was very handy for dropping explosive devices on neighbouring countries. Lots of young American males were stationed there to keep the planes flying. Of course they needed an outlet for their natural appetites so when they weren’t loading bombs they liked to drink beer and study Tagalog.

The first indication I got that Mount Pinatubo was about to blow was in the Maverick Bar. I was having a tom tit in the squat toilet there one day when lava started coming up the bung hole. Naturally I ran outside with my trousers round my ankles and found clouds of dust and chaos on the street. Bloody amazing that was. Grey shapes running everywhere trying to keep covered dragging kids along with bowls and saucepans on their heads. Talk about Hieronymus Bosch.

This may be a good time to mention Millionaire’s Lodge. It was a cheap hotel in Angeles City run by a couple of Swedish blokes. The rooms were basic but the bar was an alcoholic’s delight. Who can forget the group of expats who wandered in and out?  Lots of Americans of course with Filipina girlfriends. An English bloke who trying to flog crushed sugar cane to golf course for fertilisers. Heidi the barmaid who kept getting pregnant, the couple running vegetables from Baguio or the little fellow from Bangladesh selling spices. What a strange bunch of people.  All drawn to that time and place for one reason or another. I heard later it burnt down. History.