A country bound by weather
I banged on in an earlier post about London being held hostage by a particularly maleovolent fog over the Christmas period. Today parts of it (namely the public transport bits) have had a "good lie in" due to 2 inches of snow.
I awoke this morning to a veritable winter wonderland. Snow everywhere and I, suddenly a 5 year living in Scotland once more, did a literal happy clap and couldn't stop smiling! Finally a reason for all this cold and dark!
My meteorological mirth however, quickly gave way to commuter frustration as I realised that London is not equipped to deal with snow. Indeed tube stations were shut. You too may quizzically wonder how it is that an underground station can be snow affected. None the less, as I had to cross town for a 9am appointment, and needed to do it by tube, that it was snowing quickly meant my 30 minute journey could take anywhere up to 3 hours. I'm sure this is the first time London has ever experienced snow, so no wonder they were caught short in their ability to handle commuter madness because of a bit of icy water.
However, sardonicism aside I am pleased it snowed, because I was in Bath - Spa for the weekend and stood freezing to the bone while staring at Stone Henge.
As said earlier, I lived in Scotland as a child. My parents, bless them, transplanted themselves and 3 kids under the age of 10 half way across the world with seeingly no hesitation or fears.
While living in Scotland, weekends and school holidays were spent travelling around Europe and the UK. So much of where I've been thus far I've visited before, albeit it as a child, so I'm often curious to know how much I'll remember of modern day places and how they'll measure up to my childhood memories.
My overwhelming memory of Stone Henge as a child was not the spectacle or wonder of the ancient stones, or even respectfully nodding to the burial mounds of celts surrounding the site. Instead it was of standing on the top of the hill, positively numb with cold.
Needless to say, I was intrigued to know how accurate my memory was as I left sunny London for a weekend in Bath recently.
London had quite literally been blown asunder by gale force winds only days prior, and locals nodded conspiratorially while muttering “guaranteed snow”. I was entering what I can only describe as "extreme weather".
However I was going south, not north, so how cold could I get, I mused?
Bath itself is lovely, and if you don’t venture too far out of the wind break of the abbey or the roman baths, warm. If however, you are a hapless and none too bright Australian, chances are you’ll book a day trip to Stone Henge so you can stand on a hill for an hour staring at one of our most mysterious pieces of history listening to people premise every theory with “we don’t really know anything about the stones” before they then launch into an explanation that sounds like it's been written by JK Rowling.
As I stood, wearing layer upon layer of my warmest clothes and still feeling the icy wind cut through to my bones, memories of being a 6 year old transplanted from the hot and humid riverina to the northern hemisphere came flooding back.
Stone Henge, during summer, is the UK’s number one tourist destination, with more than 1 000 people visiting the site daily. If you add in crop circles, up to 10 000 people can visit daily. However, if you visit during the peak of winter, on a day when it’s threatening to snow, you’ll be one of 15 bitter looking people all staring blankly at the rocks and trying to figure out how long one has to stay to appear interested and knowledgeable.
I awoke this morning to a veritable winter wonderland. Snow everywhere and I, suddenly a 5 year living in Scotland once more, did a literal happy clap and couldn't stop smiling! Finally a reason for all this cold and dark!
Snow - the thickest in London for 4 years
However, sardonicism aside I am pleased it snowed, because I was in Bath - Spa for the weekend and stood freezing to the bone while staring at Stone Henge.
Stone Henge, ancient wonder of the world
As said earlier, I lived in Scotland as a child. My parents, bless them, transplanted themselves and 3 kids under the age of 10 half way across the world with seeingly no hesitation or fears.
While living in Scotland, weekends and school holidays were spent travelling around Europe and the UK. So much of where I've been thus far I've visited before, albeit it as a child, so I'm often curious to know how much I'll remember of modern day places and how they'll measure up to my childhood memories.
My overwhelming memory of Stone Henge as a child was not the spectacle or wonder of the ancient stones, or even respectfully nodding to the burial mounds of celts surrounding the site. Instead it was of standing on the top of the hill, positively numb with cold.
Needless to say, I was intrigued to know how accurate my memory was as I left sunny London for a weekend in Bath recently.
London had quite literally been blown asunder by gale force winds only days prior, and locals nodded conspiratorially while muttering “guaranteed snow”. I was entering what I can only describe as "extreme weather".
However I was going south, not north, so how cold could I get, I mused?
Bath itself is lovely, and if you don’t venture too far out of the wind break of the abbey or the roman baths, warm. If however, you are a hapless and none too bright Australian, chances are you’ll book a day trip to Stone Henge so you can stand on a hill for an hour staring at one of our most mysterious pieces of history listening to people premise every theory with “we don’t really know anything about the stones” before they then launch into an explanation that sounds like it's been written by JK Rowling.
As I stood, wearing layer upon layer of my warmest clothes and still feeling the icy wind cut through to my bones, memories of being a 6 year old transplanted from the hot and humid riverina to the northern hemisphere came flooding back.
Stone Henge, during summer, is the UK’s number one tourist destination, with more than 1 000 people visiting the site daily. If you add in crop circles, up to 10 000 people can visit daily. However, if you visit during the peak of winter, on a day when it’s threatening to snow, you’ll be one of 15 bitter looking people all staring blankly at the rocks and trying to figure out how long one has to stay to appear interested and knowledgeable.
