I am slowly getting used to the fact that I don’t have to check the weather forecast every 13 seconds and then adjust under and outerwear, mode of transport and general plans according to how much rain is predicted in the next two hours. It’s almost always the same here; a not-uncomfortable level of scorchio during the day and nice and cool in the evening. I wonder if this will ever get boring? Will I crave snow and frozen fingers and cold snot and greyness and misery? When I lived back in Rainville, Rainington County, I did secretly enjoy the winter, which enabled me to a) always have a good excuse not to go out (raining, sorry!) and b) never have to bother doing anything with my hair (rain will flatten it/frizz it/wet it anyway).
That said, since we arrived, there has been an unprecedented level of ‘bad weather’, a sort of ‘freak weather front’ bringing bad weather in from the east, coming from exactly the same direction we just flew in from. Coincidence? I think not. A couple of big storms have caused chaos; it rains so rarely that when it does, people crash their cars into each other because they have no idea where their windscreen wiper switch is located because they’ve never had to use it before. Such ‘wild weather’ events have minor celebrity status here. I seem to have made the transition from weather forecasters who sombrely inform their vitamin-D deficient viewers that, if a sequence of events and probabilities that even the most talented savant couldn’t calculate occurs, they might get to experience 20 minutes of sun in three week’s time, to weather forecasters who visibly froth at the prospect of rain.
It might be hot, but I still have not had the guts to unleash my bizarrely melanin-free legs upon the unsuspecting public. I’ll keep you posted.