Who on earth would choose to spend their Christmas in Scotland? Trudging through the sleet and snow, each step followed by a small prayer that you aren’t about to step on a small piece of camouflaged black ice. The howling wind rendering your face numb, reducing you to nothing more than an incomprehensible babbling mess. Your phone rings. You struggle to pull off your gloves as you begin fishing it out of your pocket, the cold immediately biting at your hands. You hold the phone up high as your scarf prevents you from looking down, neck braces allow more agility than these! It’s not even someone you particularly want to speak to but the effort you’ve invested up to this point leads you to reluctantly answer it. You attempt to say hello but you’re face is numb. You produce a French sounding “Allo” and then concentrate hard. The wind is playing havoc and all you can hear is the intruding sound of that blasted gale. You try to explain your predicament but nothing you say makes sense. In the end you come across as an arse, you don’t get those gig tickets your friend was going to offer, they delete you from Facebook and all that is left is a cold, wet, numb, Billy-no-mates.
With this totally realistic scenario in mind, I ask again, Who on earth would choose to spend their Christmas in Scotland?
The answer? Me I guess, for I will be back in the UK from November until the new year. Meh!
Back in Potosi and it’s been a rather contrasting story. October has literally stormed in on the scene. Rain, hail, thunder and lightning. The perfect tonic for any hints of homesickness that may have been about to creep in. What astonished me the most during this freak weather was that I had failed to even notice the now glaring lack of drainage in the streets. Sure there are the odd few drains and holes here and there but nothing like the drain you encounter every 15 feet or so in the UK. With Potosi being an exceedingly hilly town the sheer volume of water that was running down the steep sloping streets caused me to pause and think about the poor souls who live near the bottom. I do hope they have canoes down there.
The lightning was really something. I later took it upon myself to get some good pictures but the best of what was on offer was, rather typically, reserved for when I was looking the other way. A bit of patience and I was soon tracking the flashes, all the way until it was almost over my head. Boom! Got one! The thunder immediately bellowed with rage from the dark clouds. I could physically feel the vibrations as the house quaked under the roar. I lowered my camera apologetically, as if I had somehow angered it. More heavy rain was beginning to fall and the lightning had sailed out of sight. Time to get indoors before I cause any more offence.
With a week in Rio now on the menu, hopefully I can be served up 7 days of sunshine and sand. Let’s wait and see.