Friday, July 10, 2015

being outside

Summer in Britain can be so absolutely extraordinary when it makes the effort.
Everything in the stark sunshine is always so crisp and beautiful, and so fucking cunning, you really do forget that the other 9 months of the year are really foul.

People are walking around semi-naked, the flowers pop out at you, the houses look beautiful in all of their Victorian splendour, hell, even the ghetto street sof south London look good, awash with braiding shops and halal butcheries, during the largest tube strike since 2002.

Yes, that was yesterday - the entire Grid shut down, and most people had to walk or run across the city to get to work (buses too stuffed), but this didn't bother as many people as you'd have thunk. Had it been raining and shit, there would've been fights and immigration papers filed ("That's it, we're moving to Spain"), but instead, people popped their sunnies on and happily walked across the city.

I had to get into the City city yesterday for a meeting, which took me 3 hours (three stuffed buses later, an Uber, a pricesurge, a walk across Kennington - don't ever do this unless you have to), I got to Bank, and on a scale of 1 to glamping at Glastonbury and the sun is shining, I was a solid 8.

I then walked a very pleasant 45 minutes across town to get to my office, tunes pumping, and admiring such buildings like St Paul's cathedral, the Gherkin and other City landmarks I don't often see.

Anyway, the point is, it's all a big farce. This doesn't happen often. When it does, people are completely overjoyed.
You notice things like hydrangeas bursting from people's front gardens on the street.

You do obscene things like fire up the braai, and thank the Lord we have now have a garden in which to do it.

While your child plays for hours in his swimming pool. And you get to drink a glass of wine that's chilled, not luke warm, because he is completely occupied with a Get In/Get Out experiment, where, for an hour, he focuses solely on climbing in and out of his pool.

You realise that when you're not at work/inside an office, you spend most of your time lazing about on the common. Alongside the rest of the nation.

We spent pretty much the entire weekend in a public park last week.

 This is where England goes when the sun shines.
 Hats,water. Essential.

 Most of these people are mostly naked.
 Including my son, because it was 35 degrees, hottest day on record, and it was 6pm.
Thank fuck for watermelon.

And things like strawberries and cream while watching the Wimby.

Basically spending a lot of time outside and in the sun.

It's amazing. England, you're forgiven.

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