You could go to Forbes Park, where private security forces clutching automatic rifles guard the gates of palatial estates, and come back with a photograph that says, 'This is Manila'. Or you could take your camera to the Pasig River, where people bathe on the banks just below their wooden shacks, and say, 'This is Manila.' And either way, you would be right. As alternately rich and poor as the city finds itself, as problematic and chaotic as it seems, Manila's spirit is still something palpable and special - it's Asian, and it's Latin, all at once. Sandwiched between the extremes of wealth and poverty, is a city bursting with hospitality, musicality and taxi drivers who speak English as a first language. You feel closest to the source of the bubbling energy in Malate and Ermita which, with their burgeoning bar and café scenes, have also become the city's most visited quarters by tourist. Sprawling across almost 150 acres of the metropolis, Rizal Park (+6325262394) is a relaxing showcase of local culture.

The extravagant Coconut Palace (Cultural Center, Roxas Blvd, +6328320223, Tue-Sun, by appointment only) is best known for the papal snub it got after Imelda Marcos went to the trouble of having the place built - almost entirely from palm wood and coconut fibre - especially for Pope John Paul's visit.

After Casa Manila (General Luna St, +6325274084), the most obvious landmark in Intramuros, positioned to guard the mouth of the river, is Fort Santiago (+6325272889, 8am-9pm).

If Donald Trump were Chinese-Filipino, surely he would secure a plot in the Chinese Cemetery (Aurora Avenue at South Gate, Blumentritt, 7.30am -7pm) where you find tombs kitted out with chandeliers, air-conditioning and flush toilets. Ah to be wealthy and dead.