The return

Christmas Day this year dawned gloomy and damp, and stayed that way.  Just as we had to leave after Christmas the sun came out over the Mediterranean Sea.  It looked beautiful but it was cold.  This time last year we were sitting out of doors to eat in the sun but that was probably just as unusual. 

So I wasn't surprised to see snow on the mountains as we drove away.  I was more surprised as we drove along the Via Domitia (as the signs on the A9 kept saying) to be showered with clumps of snow from passing cars.  Clearly there was a lot of snow not far away.

The Via Domitia was a Roman road which ran from Italy across the south of France to Spain.  It was built in 118 BC on the orders of Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus who thankfully lent it only one of his names.  It was an ancient road even before this, and supposedly was followed by Heracles and Hannibal.  In places it passed very close to the coast but I'm not convinced it followed the same route as the modern A9. It would be an interesting detour at some future date.

Back at home now and the weather has turned extremely and unseasonably mild.  What will it throw at us next, I wonder?

24 hours

I've been confined indoors for a while but it hasn't stopped me looking out of the window and seeing how changeable the scene is.

The 24 hours started with a thunderstorm followed by a rainbow.

Dawn brought clearer weather. Well, not quite dawn but about 6.00 am.

But there was a haze around and on the horizon it settled into a yellowish smog.  Is that from France?  From the shipping?  I can only assume it's as bad looking in the other direction.

Later the sun came out and I was watching this father and son playing with the kite.  Well the father was playing with the kite while the son watched.  It wasn't until later that I realised I'd managed to catch a view of the massive Thanet Offshore Windfarm on the horizon.  There are 100 turbines in place, and you can only hope they will help reduce that smog.  It may be just possible to see some of the turbines if you click on the photo for a larger size. 

Towards the end of the day this group arrived with a picnic, sat together yet apart, and left shortly afterwards.  You could write stories about why.

The start of the season

The Great British summer season kicked off with a large outdoor flea market or car boot sale in traditional Great British summer weather.

The stall holders gave up trying to protect their goods from the rain.  There were many soggy bargains to be had.

A couple of days later the first concert at the bandstand.  At least the rain held off but even the band members were wearing gloves.  The two ice cream vans fought over the solitary customer, but he fed his ice cream to his dogs.

This is supposed to be May!  They say things will be better by the weekend....

Cold baths are good for you

Back in England for a week, and almost everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. And of course the weather has been bad - cold and rainy. It all reached a peak on Friday night when I discovered there was no hot water, just as I stepped into my bath.

On Saturday morning we realised that the boiler wasn't working at all, so we switched on the immersion heater. After a couple of hours, it seemed that the immersion heater wasn't working either.

Photo from Flickr/Bashed. Creative Commons Licence.

After a number of abortive attempts to find someone who could come out and fix one or the other, or preferably both, we decided we could manage until Monday morning. Let me tell you, it's not as easy as it sounds.

Photo from Flickr/esterase. Creative Commons Licence.

Of course, Monday morning dawns, nothing, nobody arrives. Mid-afternoon the plumber does turn up but doesn't have the right parts. The immersion heater provoked one of those long intakes of breath and a shake of the head. Apparently it's marked in Fahrenheit! How long have we been using Celsius in the UK? Forty years? More?

So, for the time being, keep on with the cold baths.

BUT. At least the weather has improved, considerably, and I managed to get right to the top of St Catherine's Hill. Something to be grateful for (with apologies to Solomon).

A beautiful evening

Don't tell me the weather is about to improve, just as we are about to leave...

A lovely evening for a walk by the river.

The bells, the bells

At 7:00 am this morning I had a rude awakening when the cathedral bells started ringing. My first thought was that it must be St Swithun's day: they always ring at that time for St Swithun's day, but it's only once a year and you don't notice on week day mornings, so not very intrusive. Anyway it finally dawned on me that it's still June so it couldn't be St Swithun's day.

On investigation, it turns out to have been the Queen's official birthday which is nowadays always on a Saturday. I feel sure I would have noticed the bells if they always rang on a Saturday in June so I hope it's a one off. I actually do love the bells but not at 7:00 am. Sundays are lovely, and so too are the Wednesday evening practices.

It's a relief that it isn't St Swithun's Day with the weather we are having today:

St. Swithun's day, if thou dost rain,
For forty days it will remain;
St. Swithun's day, if thou be fair,
For forty days 'twill rain na mair.
15 July

In France they have similar 40 day predictions though on different dates.

S'il pleut à la saint Médard,
Il pleuvra quarante jours plus tard.
8 June

Sainte-Eulalie avec la pluie,
Quarante jours reste dans ton lit.
12 February

There is an English version of that last one:

If on St Swithun's day it really pours
You're better off to stay indoors.

I've heard, but never really investigated, that you can put together enough of these sayings to show that it's going to rain, or not, for the entire year.