My return from the colds of Moscow to the Colds of the UK
Having just returned from a trip to Moscow I was immediately taken aback by the complaints of cold weather and the excitement of snow. I know there are colder cities than Moscow, which reached -16, snowed every day and I loved every minute of it. I am now unable to connect to the British psychey of the importance of our weather and the daily interaction this provides. I have so far avoided mentioning in a raised and slightly snooty tone that I have recently traveled and this weather cannot compare to the marathon endurance I have completed the routine of long johns on, vest on, sweater on, jumper on, hats, gloves scarf and finally the finish line I put on my coat. I am ready hurrah; I am now able to take out the rubbish. Never have I before felt such cold and no matter how I dressed or what precautions I undertook the only safe and sensible solution was to regularly visit coffee shops defrost and undress.
On my return to blighty collected from the airport it was not long before the weather was discussed and at my first clearing of the throat I stood aloft and explained my heroics. No one praised me, eyes narrowed and daggers were cast this was not a favorable crowd. However today is different, 24 hours have not yet passed since I walked the streets of Moscow but one night in my own bed I wake up to a frosty morning a slight dusting of snow I am rejuvenated and feel a kinship with our climate. I shivered as I looked out of the window. Yesterday was…well yesterday and I have forgotten the Muscovites and I now share conversation with neighbors who smile as they inform me I must have brought the weather back with me and maybe I have, but Cold vs. Cold we are behind.
