Pic is facing south towards Manila.
The turnaround I used is just below the bottom where the pic is cut off.
Caught
in the Luzon Floods
A
business trip from Subic to Manila, interrupted by monsoon flooding
and two days of expressway gridlock
Context:
Weeks
of Luzon flooding, landslides kill over 30 (Philippine Daily
Inquirer, 30 August 2026)
In
late August 2026, weeks of southwest monsoon rains, intensified by
successive tropical cyclones, produced widespread flooding and
landslides across Luzon. Official reports placed the death toll above
thirty and the number of people affected in the millions. What
follows is a first-hand account of attempting to return from a
business trip in Subic to Manila during that period.
A
soaked weekend in Subic
The
weekend in Subic had already been waterlogged. Heavy rain squalls
continued through the weekend. On Friday morning, multiple landslides
closed sections of the expressway between Angeles and Subic. The road
was cleared by evening, and I passed through without incident going to Subic.
Throughout
the weekend, emergency alerts arrived on our mobile phones—warnings
of heavy rainfall, landslides, and flooding, some of them in the
middle of the night.
Sunday
departure
We
left Subic at 5:00 p.m. on Sunday. I had sufficient fuel to reach
Manila, yet an instinct prompted me to fill the tank. That decision
later proved essential. Social media offered little reliable
information about road closures. Google Maps showed no meaningful
alerts.
After
seeing standing water and hitting several large potholes opening in the pavement, I
decided to stop overnight in Angeles and attempt the journey the
following morning. I was not going to hit another pothole driving at night or standing water.
Monday:
a thirty-minute delay that was not
On
Monday, Google Maps indicated a thirty-minute delay after we left
Angeles. When we reached the congestion, the estimate remained thirty
minutes after we had already waited thirty minutes. We had no
accurate picture of what lay ahead. Social media remained of little
use.
Hours
passed. Vehicles overheated, stalled, and ran out of fuel. In the
adjacent lane, a livestock truck carried live hogs; several animals
collapsed and died screaming. People walked along the expressway carrying
bundles of clothing; women carried children. Pedestrians are
prohibited on the expressway, and at first we assumed they were
simply ignoring the rules. Only later did it become clear that they
were fleeing flooded communities.
At
an overpass, crowds emerged from below. What I had taken for a river
was a submerged highway. Floodwater reached the power lines. Houses
stood flooded to their roofs.
I
passed a gap in the median barrier and should have used it to turn
around. I continued, still hoping to push through the delay. Around
the third hour, cellular service failed almost completely. A brief
voice call connected; SMS and data did not. Signal later returned to
a single bar, but nothing functioned.
By
the sixth hour we had reached the exit where the flooding began—just
beyond the ramp, beneath the overpass. Heavy cranes arrived on the
opposite carriageway, travelling against traffic under police escort.
Police and military vehicles started arriving on the opposite lane with boats and personnel.
Some ambulances passed thru the jam, and they were trailed by motorcycle riders and some cars using the ambulance as a battering ram to get thru the traffic. I also saw multiple motorcycles with private license plates using sirens, and flasing lights pretending to be government vehicles to get thru the traffic. In the Philippines while illegal, one does see persons impersonate police with official looking vehicles and pseudo police uniforms. Usually saying something like (insert name here) Motorcycle club.
Further
delay came from motorists who had left their vehicles, standing in
the roadway and smoking, blocking the turnaround. After persistent
use of the horn I was able to pass and complete the U-turn. Nearby, a
van driver argued with a police officer directing traffic to reverse
course, despite deep water visible perhaps seventy-five yards ahead.
People waded out of the flood, soaked from the waist down, and walked
up the road.
We
returned to Angeles and took another hotel room.
Tuesday:
around the flood, not through it
The
tank was already below half from idling and the short drive from
Subic. I filled it again. Google Maps remained unhelpful. Local
television provided little operational detail. I planned a route
north, then east, around the flooded zone. Motorists who attempted a
more direct cut from the flood area to the next major highway south
became trapped in further jams.
The
worst congestion on the second day occurred in two towns where local
officials were directing traffic. Whenever a vehicle sought to cut
through the line, the entire mass of traffic halted to allow it,
after which restarting the flow took a long time.
Lessons
Under
these conditions, ordinary traffic rules and courtesy largely
disappear. Breakdowns were even more frequent on the second day. Many
petrol stations had run out of fuel.
Using
the shoulder to pass stalled trucks and clusters of vehicles is, in
practice, necessary. Remaining in the slow lane and waiting one’s
turn can convert an eight-hour journey into twelve hours or more. In the Philippines the slang is using the VIP lane for driving against traffic or running the shoulder.
I
was fortunate to have topped up the tank when the opportunity
existed. We carried water and emergency food. An inverter supplied
220-volt power for charging telephones.
Electric
vehicles fared poorly. Many exhausted their charge on the highway;
others were flooded and abandoned blocking the road. I saw many semi trucks broke down in the middle of the road. I also saw people carrying diesel in 5 gallon round water bottles to their vehicles that ran out of fuel.
What
I would pack again
Fuel
topped off at every safe opportunity. Drinking water and a small
store of emergency food. A vehicle inverter or power bank sufficient
to keep phones charged when the network flickers back to life. A
willingness to abandon the “official” route the moment the
information on the dashboard no longer matches what is visible
through the windscreen.
The
floods were a public calamity. The gridlock was a second, quieter
one: hours of idling engines, dying livestock, people walking out of
their homes onto a road that is not meant for them, and a
communications blackout that left drivers guessing. The maps did not
know. The alerts arrived too late or not at all. The only reliable
information was what we could see.
