I SAY, IT'S SATURDAY... I MUST BE IN BIRMINGHAM

Bless you, Filcoms and your Barrio Fiestas. Because of you, I got my first glimpse of the English countryside on my way to my first out-of-London consular mission, in beautiful Birmingham!

And to the Embassy -- oh, you guys! -- you didn't have to set my consular missions in the order of The Smiths' "Panic"! How did you know that's what I always wanted! You guys.

Because of an early morning start and cold, drizzly weather, there weren't that many people and not much for the embassy to do when the event kicked-off. To their credit, the emcees gamely pushed on, audience or no. By the afternoon, however, things really picked up, helped in no small part by clever and creative performances by the Filcom. Two of the crowd favorites: a rap group called Makata (I think), and a dance troupe that mixed pop with the sarong dance. In the words of the emcee after the dancers' superb number, ang tataray!

Mismo.

At the end of the first day, we headed straight to our motel in a neighborhood that reminded me a lot of the Sta. Rosa, Laguna area (especially that part when you're driving home from Tagaytay towards SLEX and pass through some hills and subdivisions before reaching the intersection with the strip malls). The whole place seemed pretty quiet, but the only two restaurants nearby - both of them TGIF types - plus our motel diner were all packed. The huge bowling alley nearby also seemed to be doing well.

What would Morrisey make of it all?

The following morning, a Santacruzan was staged on the fair grounds. As the parade moved around, the emcee kept on proudly yelling "This is the longest Santacruzan...in the history of England!!!" And, indeed, this Santacruzan did seem to have everything we'd have back home, down to the Reyna Elena escorts who look like they just came back from a Saturday afternoon in Megamall.

And trailing the procession was a whole other set of beauties. Say what you want, but they marched on with little to protect them from the cold and rain other than their gowns and a smile. (actually, one did have an umbrella...made of flowers.)

Anyway, a good time was had by all, and I thoroughly enjoyed my first out-of-town sortie. To Leeds, Carlisle, Dublin et al, the bar has been set. You can't stage just any Santacruzan now; you have to deal with that whole History of England thing, too.

YOU'LL NEVER WIN ROBOTS, BECAUSE WE KNOW HOW TO CELEBRATE OUR FREEDOM!

With Barrio Fiestas! And Independence Day Flag-Raisings! And Vin D'Honneurs! And Hot Movie Stars who remind us what it means to be ALIVE!!!

Hell, even lord master Google's on our side

Barrio Fiesta Carnival

The week leading up to Independence Day is the peak season for all activites Filipino, particularly Barrio Fiestas, where communities in and around London outdo each other with thrill rides, celebrities flown-in from home, and skies that look like they were just photoshopped over the crowd.

This particular Barrio Fiesta was in Moreden, in southern London near Wimbledon (yes, that Wimbledon). It's a wee bit far, and because of a sudden signal failure on the Tube line (a quite frequent occurrence), I had to skip lunch to transfer to a bus so that I'd get there in time for my Embassy-booth duty. I was hungry when I finally arrived at the fair grounds, worried that I wouldn't have anything good to eat until dinner.

Silly, silly me.

Damn right Pinoys got their pride on, with various fashionalistic depictions of great Philippine symbols like the flag, the sun and stars, and...um...Piolo Pascual.

Our Founding Fathers first raised the Flag in June

Because they knew if they declared independence in say, January, all our diplomats abroad would have frozen over in their barongs.

(special thanks also to Shoemart and their long-sleeved camiso de chinos!)

Needless to state, Independence Day is an occassion for Embassy people to feast (tapsilog!), dress up, and act as giddy as schoolkids. Heck, throw in a kris-kringle and you'd swear it was Christmas.

Vin more time!

Ooh, yeah! A reception for other dignitaries and officials! Things are really gonna get wild now!

No, not really. Vin D'Honneurs are appropriately formal affairs. But that doesn't mean we have to forego picture-picture and kulitan before the event. We're still Pinoys, dammit! And this is our day!

Even our sound-check was awesome

The event unfolds. I've now learned that the best icebreaker when talking to strangers at events like these is to let them touch and talk about your barong. Then segue to Manny Pacquiao.

Like I said, fancy setting or not, we shall always be Pinoys. So there shall always be pabalot.

And finally, appropos of nothing, other than the Embassy is right next to Leicester Square where all the big movie premieres are held. . .

Megan-da siya.

If that doesn't make you feel proud to be free (and human), then the robots have already won.

NOW'S A GOOD A TIME AS ANY TO BREAK OUT A "BLOODY" TRAVEL ADVISORY

To wit, that bloody tube strike was a bloody inconvenience to every bloody one of us. On my part, I left work late hoping most of the chaos and congestion had eased, but no such luck as full bus after bus after bus after bus passed by without bothering to stop. When one did stop, it was immediately swarmed by people, with the bus driver frantically yelling "those who got on through the rear door, get off the bus, NOW! I WILL NOT MOVE!!!" Not that I was one of those who tried to sneak onto the back of the bus, but the driver scared me so much I decided to take cover in the nearby movie theatre and watch "Night at the Museum" 'til it all blew over.

(10 bloody pounds to see Ben Stiller, by the way)

When I finally left the theatre, it was close to 11pm, dark outside, and the buses. . .were still full and still not stopping. But, hey, at least it started raining! I only lucked out and caught a ride thirty minutes later and arrived home close to midnight. Hai ya.

But that's just my personal experience. Let's hear what some locals think:

So, um, yeah.

But strike's now over. Both sides have been heard, operations have normalized, and all's well that ends well.

Oh, bloody naman!

THIS IS ALL TIED INTO THE UK PREMIERE OF "TERMINATOR", SOMEHOW

Just had a really bad 24-hour stretch, tech-wise. Somewhere, our robot overlords are chortling.

It started in the evening. I whipped out my dongle, plugged it in, and immediately found it wasn't as fast it should be; in fact, it was excruciatingly slow. (damn right I'm secure enough to use "whip out", "dongle" and "fast" in the same sentence.) The dongle was brand new and had worked perfectly just the day before, and I wasn't surfing any dodgy websites (yet...er...ever), so I thought it was just a temporary glitch or something. But as the night wore on, I still waited ages for pages to load - if there was as any connection at all. Re-boot, re-connect, re-load, over and over, over and over, and I still couldn't get anything. Finally, as I was about to give up and turn in, a pop-up appeared from my anti-virus software (or, as I prefer to think of it, a message from the future!) It warned me that a "severe threat" had tried to attack my computer, but that it had been blocked, and no further action had to be taken. As if on cue, surfing speed returned to normal, but by then, "Britain's Got Talent" replays were on, so I was obliged to drop everything.

"All hail Skynet"

The following morning, I attended a conference in a building whose main session hall apparently blocked cellphones and wi-fi (they interfered with the interpreters' audio equipment; at least, that's what the MAN would have you believe). I still gave the internet a go on my mobile, only to end up screwing the phone's settings. In a desperate attempt to fix things, I actually locked myself out of my own phone. It took me until the early evening to get the damn thing unlocked through the service provider.

You're welcome.

Then that very same night, as I was heading home and transferring trains, my mobile rang furiously. A strange number. In the movies, this would be where the voice on the line goes "don't say anything, don't ask any questions, just do as I say" (whereupon, the leading man goes "please don't hurt me"); instead here, it was my bank with a message just as ominous: some suspicious activity had been detected by their fraud department on my new card (whereupon I said, PLEEEEAAAASSSEEEE don't hurt me!!!).

I feel your pain.

All kidding aside, the bank really did find unauthorized purchases - some small, some not so - charged to my account. Their swift action, however, prevented any real harm. (on the other hand, that could have been my only chance to sneak by the LLDD-Hyphen-L certain pay-per-view purchases and video rentals that also "questionably" appeared on my bill.)

"I swear, sweetie, it was the hackers!"

Needless to state, I was a bit rattled by the experience. I told the story and sought comfort from my friends and collegues (read: I wanted to be the center of attention), but to my surprise, I was greeted with --- meh. There was sincere concern, to be sure, but there was no alarm. Apparently, this sort of thing happens enough times here that people don't express shock; they ask how soon did it happen.

And that, my friends, tells me one thing: the robots are winning.

So go on another f***ing rant against the cinematogranator, Christian Bale. You have my full support.

In the meantime, if you ever see a video post of me blinking rapidly, that's my secret signal to y'all that the robots have taken over this blog and are holding me against my will.

TOWER BRIDGE IS NOT UNATTRACTIVE

The LLDD-Hyphen-L and I don't ask much from a tourist attraction - easy access, short lines, great views, and a place for picture-picture. We're that easy.

Tower Bridge readily met those requirements, and threw in some history, mechanical engineering and an aerobic workout for good measure.

Needless to state, I was all "Bad Tower Bridge! Bad! Bad!" for sneaking in education and exercise into what should have been a purely pang-friendster photo taking session.

Truth be told, our original plan was to visit The Tower of London (not to be confused with Tower Bridge, London Bridge or Victoria London), but once we saw the long lines and the price of admission, we quickly changed destinations. Anyway, as we walked towards Tower Bridge, we already got glimpses of The Tower of London's famous authentic medieval walls, medieval moats and medieval, um, tennis court. (don't ask me what it was doing there, I didn't pay the entrance fee)

As you approach Tower Bridge, you begin to appreciate it's beauty, size and height. That last one's of particular note, as the tower's elevator actually broke and fell several meters just the day before we went. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, and I still got to repeatedly use my "Hey! London Bridge! Falling down! Falling down! Get it? Get it?" jokes on the LLDD-Hyphen-L.

She got her revenge by simply walking up the stairs. Well played (gasp).

Once you do get to the top, you're rewarded with views of (from top) Central, South and East London. Simply breathtaking.

(or still out-of-breath; hard to tell which)

Some unsolicited tourist advice: the long climb up Tower Bridge is well worth it because of the interesting exhibits along the staircases and the wide viewdecks once you get to the top which allow you to take in the panoramic sights in an uncrowded, unrushed setting. I cannot say the same for the climbs up the Statue of Liberty and the Washington Monument. For those two, you're kept moving in a single file within a claustrophobic space, and once you get to the top it's like looking through a bunker fitted with a thick car windshield that's not even facing the right way.

After the highs, of course, come the lows. In this case, way below, in the Tower's engine rooms. You can't help but be amazed at the scale and complexity of the engineering involved for the coal to create the steam to power the cylinders to move the gears . . .

. . . to make some damn fine cups of cappucino.

Finally, it wouldn't be a London attraction if there wasn't some kind of wild weather mood swing. There was a bright blue sky as we took pictures on the south side of the bridge (top), but in the short time it took us to cross over to the north side, it was already cold, windy and rainy.

Some of that cappuccino would have been really be good right about then.