More from the Philippines

Peter R writes from Baguio city;

The great winds continue to pass me by. I have, though, a front
row, grandstand view of the unfolding disaster movie.

By next week, the typhoon season should have blown over and
the latest threat "Lurpit" will require, on my part, nothing more
than a quick check on stocks of drinking water, loo-flushing
water, candles and tinned food. etc. It's possible power, water
and roads will be knocked out again for a while. This is a bit
more of a nuisance than going round the house changing all
the clocks by one hour when British Summer Time is due or
undue but, given our British pluck, grit and stiff upper lip, I
am resolved to cope. We made do and mended during the Blitz,
after all. Or, well, we only just missed it.

But, there is weirdly, something chronologically laggard about
this place. This morning, at 4.30 am. I was wakened by the
rhythmic stamping and chanting of marine cadets as they
jogged by my condominium block from the local outpost of the
Philippines Military Academy. You know the sort of thing: Birdy,
birdy in the sky, Drop a little bird shit in my eye. I'm a big boy,
I won't cry. I"m just glad cows don't fly. And every so often, we
see pairs of "Apocolypse Now" choppers go whap! whap! past
our French windows, the side doors open but, a bit disappointingly,
no machine guns are seen mounted and manned.

Now, must go do a little desultory panic-buying of essential
provisions. Must remember to find a transistor radio and some
more batteries.

Après moi, le déluge! eh? But though it seems to be after me,
it never seems to catch me.

Do I miss Quillan and Esperaza? Good question.
Will you take a rain check?