The unexpected thing about London

Let’s talk about the weather. I know I know! I can hear you thinking. How bloody predictable. Weather in the UK is literally the first thing everybody’s talking about whenever they’re actually talking about, you know, the UK. BUT! First, who am I to break the tradition and second, I’m not going to complain about the rain and fog as you probably thought I would. Because I actually like the British weather. Wait, what?

Yes, I did want to write that. Let me explain. It is true that it rains every now and then and sometimes that might mean all the time. But it’s not the rain rain. It’s more like a fountain drizzle and most of the people can’t even be bothered with umbrellas. Including me. Because I’m so assimilated now, right. And also because I constantly forget my umbrella. But even if I didn’t keep forgetting it, I would use it maybe three times a month. Which is not that bad, innit?

I can’t say too much about the fog as I haven’t seen any yet. True story. I think it avoids London because it stands no chance against all the smoggy stuff (and I am aware that smog has the word fog in it, ok). If the rumours are true, the best fog can be seen in Wales, so I’ll find out in a couple of months!

What is not appreciated enough though when it comes to British weather is the temperature. It’s basically spring all year long. And because spring is my favourite season, I love it. When the rest of Europe is buried under the snow and no matter how many layers you wear it’s still about 20 not enough, it’s moderate in London. When you get covered in sweat as soon as you step out of the door and the only clothes you want to wear is none, it’s moderate in London.

You can get cold days and warm days here, but it’s always somehow politely not too much. Just a little bit of “excuse me, would you mind terribly if we added two degrees to the average tomorrow? It won’t happen again this month, we promise!”


And because the UK is so adorably average all year, it can afford one thing that the other countries in Europe can only enviously dream of: the green. Nowhere in the world is the grass greener (OK, maybe in Ireland, but about that some other time). And nothing looks better than spring flowers shyly blooming in February (!) surrounded by the greenest green which is even greener when the sun shines upon it and you feel like you will never be sad again when this exists in the world. I spend a fair amount of time sitting in a park watching the grass grow and I highly recommend it.


And don’t even let me start about the sun. As soon as it pops out of the clouds, the Londoners go mental. Suddenly every square centimetre of the grass, every bench, wall, even those seemingly cleaner spots of the pavement, everything gets covered with human bums and all the sorrows are forgotten. I’m telling you, no other nation in the world appreciates the sun more.

Forget the world, I have never appreciated the sun more! My days here in London are basically counted on the sunny ones and the rest. When it’s sunny, I go out. No exception. I feel a physical need to enjoy every second of it. And when it’s cloudy and kind of sucky like today, I stay home and write about it, so I can go back to those happy memories at least in my head.

PS: It’s still warm though. In FEBRUARY.


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