When I first arrived in Spain, it rained the first weekend. I apologised for bringing the rain cloud with me.
Four weeks later it’s raining again.
The weather is something I have tried to skirt around when writing because I didn’t want my friends to read it and feel somewhat disconnected and fed up with reading about me in the sunshine. I can appreciate, when it’s not stopped snowing for a week and you’ve not been able to go anywhere; reading about the man on the beach in Spain, isn’t going to do you any favours.
But I miss the British weather. It’s crazy.
The weather here is so noncommittal. It’s like squash with too much water. You know it’s there but it’s just not pulling its weight. It’s lazy.
Since I’ve been here the weather has been: sunny and ‘cold’, sunny but a bit cloudy and ‘cold’, sunny and quite warm, sunny and on the hotter side of warm, and sort of raining.
I know in about a month’s time I may not be complaining so much but seriously, enjoy the snow, enjoy proper rain, it’ll make you enjoy the sunshine even more when it does turn up (or you go on holiday).
I miss being soaked to the bone, getting inside, taking off my clothes and putting them on radiators and then sitting down to work 9-5.
In all seriousness, when you’re ill, you have a cold and you are lying in bed, what is better than hearing the rain on the window and being warm and dry? You don’t get that feeling in Spain because even when it rains, everyone is warm and dry.
The beauty of Britain is when the weather is nice, people are happy and that makes you happy and you make more people happy and it’s everyone has a big smile on their face.
In Spain, people don’t appreciate the sunshine. They close their shutters so that they can see the television.
Every morning I open my shutters as far as they open and sit near the window in the hope that I’ll catch a suntan.
Smile in the rain.
Someone will join you.