…pear-shaped, arse over end, tits up…call it what you want.
I have to admit to have been relieved, yet a little smug over the atrocious weather Ireland and the UK have been suffering over the last few months. The summer here has been nothing too spectacular but it’s been a hell of a lot drier and warmer than up north.
Take last weekend for example. We went camping beside the Vierwaldstattersee, the big lake by Lucerne. It was all arranged at the last minute, we jumped on the train Friday evening and had two gloriuos days there. 30°C both days, we spent Saturday hiking nearby and on Sunday we ventured into the lake for a swim and then went to see the sights around the city. The sun was splitting the rocks and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I convinced myself summer had arrived. I had to apply factor 25 suncream, or “the cottage cream” as I call it, to prevent my Irish complexion burning to a crisp or converting into one giant freckle.
Since then the temperatures have halved down to 15-16°C, it’s rained pretty much consistently for a day and suddenly the headlines have turned to this:
Switzerland hit for six with storms and floods
Rivers and lakes are at critical levels, houses have been flooded and people have died. It was all going so well.