I think it is fairly safe to say that us Brits are obsessed with the weather and its unpredictability. We love to talk about it ... all the time.
During the damp, grey, winter months, we long for the warm, sunny days of summer. Rose-tinted memories of childhood summer holidays abound, where the sun was always shining and the days were endless. Recollections of playing on an almost deserted beach for what seemed like eternity, perhaps enjoying a donkey ride if you were lucky; days spent strawberry picking, building camps, picnicking and supping on ginger beer (and obviously reading too much Enid Blyton in my case!).
But, if and when those scorching, sultry days do finally arrive in the UK, as a nation in general, we constantly moan about it being too hot and yearn for a thunderstorm and some rain to cool us down. And to be honest, it doesn't take too long for our pleas to be answered.
Well, nearly seven months in, and remaining true to my roots, I am still preoccupied with the weather, both in CR and the UK. I have read with great interest the reports and tales regarding the gales, hurricanes and flooding this year so far in Britain, and was pleased to see that last Sunday, BBQ's were uncovered and set-alight for the first time in 2014. Meanwhile here in CR, I am now able to converse in Spanish about the weather, and have been told on numerous occasions that it is not as hot now as it will be in April, when the winds drop. ('Winds' on this occasion translates as 'light breeze' in England).
But what I am most looking forward to, is the month of May, when apparently the rain comes (see British through and through!). I can't wait. Cool refreshing water from the sky - fantastic (as long as it is only for a day or two). Believe it or not, I actually miss the rain - we saw Evan Almighty for the hundredth time last week and I was slightly envious about the impending precipitation that they were about to endure! Last night, I even dreamt about it!
Or so I thought ...
I don't sleep very well these days, especially as both my neighbours feel the need to keep their outside lights on throughout the night. Then sun arises from about 5 am and the birds all start to sing and nearby dogs start barking - all very lovely but it can be quite annoying when you want to sleep. So about dawn this morning, stirring from my light slumber, I heard water gushing really loudly. "Yippee" I thought, "the rains have come" and drifted off back to sleep for a bit. The cascade continued and after about an hour I realised that I was not dreaming and it wasn't raining; perhaps the neighbour decided that 6.15 am was a good time to water his garden? But I was wrong again.
|Least the Palm Trees were watered with|
all the water pouring down the walls!
The moral of my tale? It would seem that the appeals for rain by us northern-European weather-obsessives, are always answered one or another wherever we are in the world! So be warned England, and enjoy the few hot days of summer when they eventually come!