This morning I realised that I have been lied to. I have been lied to by my family, friends, strangers, work colleagues, bus guy, roommates, everyone. The collaborative effort of this lie makes the existence of drop bears look pathetic (if you have not yet fallen victim to the great Australian fib click here).
The lie is this. Spending ¾ of the year suffering through rain, wind and snow is all worthwhile because the London summer is just that great. There will be sunshine, picnics, barbeques, polka dot dresses, strawberries, Pimms and European men running around without their shirts on.
The reality somewhat less inspiring.
Always good to have something to look forward to
And before my transcontinental counterparts freak out and think we are entering the next ice age, this one is for you. Although now I look at it, your ice age fears are probably not that far off the mark.
Better start collecting acorns.
Before you give me whole lot of crap about fulfilling the English weather whinging prophecy I would like to refer to the highly reputable Metro paper, which informs me that we have just survived the coldest June since 1991, with an average temperature of just 13.8C (57C). Summer my ass.
It has actually gotten so bad, that the one day I rebelled and decided not wear thick woollen stockings to work, I felt like a dirty nudist. It was the most skin I have shown since arriving and looking at that forecast, will likely be the last.
London, this is just not good enough. I am willing to put up with nuzzling strangers armpits on the Tube and working longer and harder for a wage that can buy me a medium Big Mac Meal (large if I work overtime)…but I am not willing to put up with this.
It is wrong that I can quick draw an umbrella faster than Billy the Kid could ever dream of.
And of course, in line with your ability to make me look like a babbling fool you have decided to turn on the sunshine just before I hit the publish button. I love you London, but sometimes you can be a bit of a dick.
