It’s only on days like today whereby being British comes into it’s own, and not just because of Petroula‘s arse either!
Quite frankly, the only weather I concern myself with is whether or not she’d wriggle free of the ropes I’d tied her to the bed with, in which case I wouldn’t care if the world was coming to an end let alone rained.
Incidentally and for the record, it’s not a current image, it’s not EVER likely to be just *(6 – 7) degrees here at this time of year, EVER, plus I’m not sure if Petroula‘s still doing the weather for ERT, ideally she should be still be trying to wriggle free. . .but that’s another story altogether.
* – If your like me and a typically voracious male, it may take you several attempts at the picture before you even see the 6 & 7, or realise in fact that there is also a map representing Greece in the background.
So, today was truly glorious here in Athens. Sunny, not a cloud in the sky and probably in excess of 20+ degrees. For the first time this year I had my first true opportunity to sit in the sun and enjoy my morning coffee before I felt exposed to a worrying level of sunshine, far beyond my normal UK limit.
A couple of hours sun to a normal person is just a couple of hours sun, especially in March, however to a semi-albino ghost ninja like myself who for over 5 years now has had to adapt to the wild Greek sun, a couple of hours is akin to nearly an entire British summer at this time of year- And, all in one sitting at that.
After the first hour I was fine, regularly checking my tan lines (as you do), but after the second hour, I was perilously close to needing more Tea, quite a shock considering I’m now a coffee head, but that is the inherent danger we face in this strange and hostile environment.
It f*cks with your metabolism, and your mind, and not necessarily in that order either.
After accidentally stepping into the house to get more refreshments (another hot drink), I instantly suffered hyperthermia as the temperature plummeted to about 18 degrees, AND I nearly knocked myself unconscious after getting blinded by the darkness within my home as a sharp and unforgiving contrast to the vivid outdoors hit me like a bat.
One of my cats was now looking at me like I’d just been beamed down to the Planet for the very first time as I fumbled about an area of my home to which normally I could walk quite freely, and yet now here I was grappling around furiously in the hope that my eyesight would return before I trod on something, fell over the sofa or walked into a wall.
Not only was my eyesight severely compromised but my balance had also been corrupted by the head rush I’d gotten from standing up too quickly all whilst accidentally dislodging one of my slipper sandal thingies on the door frame, I managed to send myself careering inbound like a deranged idiot.
If any of my neighbours had been watching, they’d have probably just seen a figure stand up randomly and appear to bounce off the door for no reason before running into the house sideways. Quality.
I’d have shimmied up the Eiffel tower blindfolded with more grace if the truth be told, but I feel in my own world that I may have done it with some style where perhaps I may have been lacking in composure as I did stay upright, much to my surprise.
The shock to my system wasn’t as bad as the shock to my senses so it seems, and here I sit writing this late at night with the early stages of a f*cking cold on the way.
It’s wasn’t even a case of ‘only Maddogs and Englishmen’ today either, I was sensible, aware and in control.
I’m not like the morons who when on holiday fall asleep in the sun or spend all day drinking before realising that they are burn’t as a crisp. I’m now hardcore, I’ve enjoyed the gradual build up to today and been out in the many days prior to today training for it, however prolonged exposure to this insane object people call the ‘sun’ is still at best a risky undertaking when abroad.
I still look for the clouds though, even when there are none to be found. Often out of habit, and yet after May, mainly out of a perverse longing for it to cool this place the f*ck down a bit.
By May to June, the rain doesn’t even make it to the ground here, if your lucky and it is cloudy possibly might ‘rain’, it fails, on an epic level usually.
It may leave the clouds with all the best intentions but it scarcely ever hits the ground and at best you may feel it hit you only for it to evaporate before your brain has chance to process the whole experience.
I’m not a huge fan of the rain, but it does have it’s moments, but having come from the UK, a Country whereby some people are born wearing wellies and holding umbrella’s, we can’t help but feel a need for it more than most sane people probably ever would.
Today was not one such day. Today was the happy medium between ‘glorious’ and ‘perfect’ and yet my cruel reward and or punishment for such a delight is now to be assessing the need for a Cold and Flu Nurofen.