These are feverish times on the East Coast. Each day the temperatures rack up into three figures, mugging anyone brave enough to venture outdoors. Then at night the storms rumble up and stalk the neighborhood carrying an oblique threat of killer winds and tornadoes.
Thousands are without power, a handful have died and a major hurricane hasn't even arrived yet. On occasions it's hard to know why so many Europeans made the exodus to this wild and savage land. Perhaps had they had an apocalyptic vision of standing for three quarters of an hour in a sweaty and sagging line at Wal-Mart they would have concluded: "Sod it. Religious persecution isn't so bad."
These days are like Russian roulette. If you pick up the kids at the wrong time, as I did last week when I decided to take Blackberry pictures of the storm instead of beating it, you end up running through deep puddles with psychotic hail crashing into your skull.
In saying all this the summer weather in Britain isn't so inspiring either. Weeks of rain that have led to flooding and cool temperatures have left Brits feeling cheated out of summer. Given that grumbling about the weather is a British pastime, the conditions have given Brits something to cheerfully moan about all summer.
The answer to all of this is surely to relocate to Spain where the food's fantastic, the people are vivacious and good looking, the football team is is doing more winning than Charlie Sheen and the weather is great. Indeed this was the British dream for so long, with the unfortunate consequence that there are some parts of Spain that are full of pasty people with dubious pasts in Blighty who are lapping up the grease on the full English breakfasts at the many British owned establishments on the waterfront.
The word is "ex-pats" which always makes me think of the film White Mischief about rich Brits misbehaving in Kenya.
The downside of Spain is the economy has tanked and, like almost everywhere else in Europe, it's being bailed out by Germany.
But if that means crazy Brits are no longer paying millions for ruins in Andalucia and polluting the place with their English breakfast grease, it's not all bad.
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On Blog PTSD
Now then. What the heck. It seems I had forgotten about my blog completely rather than just neglecting it this time. To return after so long...
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Now then. What the heck. It seems I had forgotten about my blog completely rather than just neglecting it this time. To return after so long...
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Sometimes in my dreams I have an odd vision of a rotund man being chased around by scantily clad girls at double speed. Policemen and vicars...
Gets a bit hot too. Madrid in August is not a nice place to be.
ReplyDeletetrue Sarah - maybe Barcelona
ReplyDeleteYou should move here. I'll find you a job. Even if it means drinking cheap champagne and living in the giant fiberglass penguin at the park down the street.
ReplyDeleteYeah OK Jen -we can sup champagne in the giant firberglass penguin. 113 degrees and no sea for miles sounds fab lol
ReplyDeleteI have a friend from CA who moved to Spain a couple years ago. I do prefer Washington State's weather to any other. Cool, cloudy, sometime rainy, short summers....
ReplyDeletesounds a bit like Britain JoJo
ReplyDeleteYou should go to Gibraltar: same weather, food and seaside than in Spain, but with the salary of a Brit. And English is spoken too, with an Andalusian accents.
ReplyDeleteI know right Starla - except the place is kind of ugly with all the British street markings and military stuff - real Spain is more scenic
ReplyDelete