“If the story's any good, it's like Manila Hotel.”
One of the Philippines' most iconic properties—The Manila Hotel—proudly showcases this quote, attributed to master storyteller Ernest Hemingway about his famous stay in this grand old bayside hotel.
The legendary American author stayed there in February 1941, just months before the outbreak of World War II in the Pacific. During Hemingway’s time at the luxury bayside property, he famously mingled with local journalists at the bar and addressed the Philippine Writers League.
Seventy-eight years after the author of The Old Man and the Sea walked these halls, I stepped inside a beautifully decorated bay-view room of the historic hotel. It was the dry season of 2019, a period prolonged by an El Niño event.
I was on a business trip, remaining busy for most of April 2019 while engaging with farming communities and policy planners from across Asia. Whenever I caught a break between meetings and workshops, I retreated to the relaxation of my room, spending time standing by the windows overlooking Manila Bay, its harbors, piers, and walkways.
Peeking through the glass, the bay felt tantalizingly close, yet a packed business schedule ultimately prevented me from taking a stroll along the Manila Baywalk. This was not the first time my trips to Metro Manila had taken me to various parts of the Philippines while leaving Manila Bay just out of reach.
During one of my earliest visits to Manila over three decades ago, I remember having to detour while traveling between cities within the greater metropolitan area due to the city’s rapid expansion through land reclamation. I witnessed firsthand how Filipinos were reclaiming land from Manila Bay—a massive natural harbor connected directly to the South China Sea. In fact, much of the waterfront along Metro Manila is built on reclaimed land, which today includes vital institutions like the Senate of the Philippines and the SM Mall of Asia, arguably the largest mall in the region.
I managed a brief glimpse of Manila Bay during a past trip to Pasay City, when I walked through the sprawling corners of the Mall of Asia. Pasay is deeply tied to the land reclamation history of the area; the entire mall complex sits on reclaimed land situated directly along the waterfront. However, pressed by other urgent preoccupations on that visit, I only managed a quick round of shopping and a brief stroll across the road, unable to spend any real time by the bayside.
In more recent years, I returned to Manila in 2022, but once again, the bay area eluded me.
Then came the end of the wet season the following year. In October 2023, I found myself attending business meetings and staying for a few days at the Century Park Hotel in Manila’s Malate district. This time, I finally made it to Manila Bay, spending a long-awaited evening by the Baywalk promenade.
Malate’s name carries its own coastal history. Tagalog is spoken by many Filipinos, and its standardized form, Filipino, is the national language. The name "Malate" is a corruption of the word maalat (meaning saline) in Tagalog, which refers to the brackish waters where the river estuary—today’s Estero de Malate—meets Manila Bay. True to the literal meaning of the district, I found that the bay was actually not far from my hotel.
After wrapping up a day of business, I stepped out of the Century Park Hotel one evening and walked about a kilometer until I reached the wide Roxas Boulevard. That arterial waterfront road and promenade led me straight to the shores of Manila Bay.
As I stood along the Manila Baywalk at night, I watched several boats and yachts moored near the historic Manila Yacht Club. From that vantage point, the illuminated, high-rise skyline of the Malate district looked beautiful.
The Baywalk stretches for about two kilometers, serving as a popular seaside promenade and beachfront that offers visitors a space for quality leisure, flanked by nearby eateries and rooftop bars. Many admire the area most for providing the best vantage points to view the iconic, golden Manila Bay sunset.
A quick flip through the pages of military history generates even deeper interest in the area, as Manila Bay has borne witness to many conflicts. The bay was the setting for the Battle of Manila Bay in 1898, where American troops led by Commodore George Dewey seized the area in a definitive showcase of United States naval strength, destroying or capturing all major Spanish ships. With its proud historic past and abundant marine life, Manila Bay became the ocean portal and epicenter for Philippine governance, economy, and industry.
The bay also hosted unexpected visitors. In 1905, during the Russo-Japanese War, three surviving Russian protected cruisers—the Aurora, Oleg, and Zhemchug—managed to make port in US-controlled Manila for repairs following the Battle of Tsushima. Because the United States was neutral in the conflict, the trio of warships and their crews remained interned in the bay until the war officially ended that September.
Decades later, during World War II, Corregidor Island in Manila Bay was captured by Japanese forces. Much earlier, various other historic battles were fought from this naval base, including the Battles of La Naval de Manila in 1646, which finally ended Dutch attempts to seize the Philippines.
The night walk along the Manila Baywalk remains fresh in my memory, a vivid highlight of a relatively recent visit. Though I missed the world-famous Manila Bay sunset on that particular evening, walking the promenade after dark offered its own distinct, physical magic. As night fell, a steady, warm maritime breeze swept in from the bay, providing a welcome relief from the city’s dense heat. With the deepening darkness, the cityscape truly came alive.
Towering hotels, bustling restaurants, and historical buildings along Roxas Boulevard lit up, casting a neon glow that danced across the pavement and the water's surface. Standing there, I was enveloped by a unique urban symphony: the rhythmic lapping of waves against the seawall blending seamlessly with the distant hum of rushing traffic and the faint, soulful strumming of a street musician’s guitar.
