It's Ccccccold!

My friends in California will call me and say that it's a chilly 70F (21C) this time of year and that it was so cold they had to put on a sweater. Well after a few weeks of lovely autumn weather (crisp and dry, but not cold) in October, winter has descended upon London. During my commute home last night I was treated to a torrential downpour that was followed by sleet and finally by snow. The headlines today read "Snow fell in London last night for the first time in October since 1934." I feel sorry for the poor trick-or-treaters this Friday,especially the naughty nurses and French maids.

This morning I headed out to my car to find this:

And the dashboard read an outside temperate of:

That's 32.9F! I'm going back under the covers.

Go Back to Bed

I'm all for a nice long lie in on a Saturday/Sunday morning but when I've got plans on the weekend to meet up with friends, go shopping, run errands, etc. I like to get up early and be out of the flat by 9am or 10am. But then comes the most dreaded time of day for me, half eleven (a.ka. 11:30 am). Before half eleven London is clean, fresh, and quiet. The street cleaners are finishing their morning work and the city is just waking up. I pick up my skinny cappuccino without fear of a queue and I breeze in and out of stores with all the changing rooms completely empty. London is all mine. Then comes half eleven when the party-goers start to shake off their hang overs and the tourists are turned out of their hotel rooms. They crowd the streets and squares and just stand around blocking busy thoroughfares not knowing which way to go. By 1pm my quiet little town is a cluster f*** of chaos. So all I ask is that you go back to bed.