Chasing Pacquiao (Part 2)
Macau, China—By the time you get hold of this paper, I should have already accomplished half of my mission in Macau. Because at 7:30 this morning, the official weigh-in of the Manny Pacquiao-Brandon Rios “Clash in Cotai” fight at the Venetian Hotel, was held.
With my official media accreditation ID proudly hanging around my neck, I gained access to the weigh-in venue and finally saw my idol… Manny Pacquiao, flexing his ripped muscles and weaving his intoxicating charm atop…the weighing scale. (I guess that’s how every weigh-in goes.)
By the way, my travel companions, boxing judges Salven Lagumbay and Edward Ligas and GAB-Cebu’s Lando Mendoza arrived in Hong Kong past 4 p.m. of Wednesday. Unfortunately, we missed the 5 p.m. ferry to Macau so we took the next one which was still three hours away.
Three hours of doing nothing but wait inside the airport? No way! I protested. But nothing came out of my rantings so I braced for what I thought would be a lazy and boring wait.
Lazy and boring? I was wrong, gravely wrong.
With Salven, Edward and Lando around, the three hours flew swifter than supertyphoon Yolanda’s winds. We were a raucous and noisy bunch and never failed to draw curious stares from the mostly chinky-eyed crowd. Before we knew it, we were already boarding the next train to Skypier, Hong Kong’s super modern port area.
Article continues after this advertisementWe left Hong Kong marina a little over 8 p.m. against the backdrop of the former British colony’s blazing skyscrapers and exciting skyline. We reached Macau at 9 p.m. and marveled at the sight that greeted us at the pier: a bunch of casino joints with their neon lights blazing the waters with vibrant colors, framed by the massive arches of the world renowned Macau bay bridge.
Article continues after this advertisementTired and weary, we decided to take photos of the amazing view on our return trip. For now, our main goal is to get to our hotel room and sleep.
We checked in at the swanky Holiday Inn Hotel at almost 10 p.m. Just across the street stood the magnificent Venetian Hotel which seemed to welcome us with its royal embrace. (But we are not staying there of course, too expensive Salven whispered).
The Holiday Inn though was not patsy. The five star hotel was just not so… Venetian.
After a little wait at the counter, we were ushered to our rooms on the 37th floor. I think that was the first time in years that I was able to doze off way before midnight knocked.
So there’s my quite lengthy explanation why I failed to submit this column in time for Friday’s issue. Sorry.