Storm

Storm

As I sit at my PC typing this, the wind is howling outside. We’re advised not to venture out unless our journeys are essential. The port of Dover is closed. Flights are cancelled and there’s a 50 miles per hour speed limit on the train network. Some trains aren’t running at all. Some areas are flooding. Power cuts are imminent. At home, the cat won’t go out into the garden, and the rabbit is founded on safety grounds.

This country rarely experiences extreme weather, and we’re never fully-prepared for it. When the first snowflake drops, the roads and rails grind to a halt, and all the schools close; just in case they face legal action for forcing children out into the cold. The authorities don’t like us moving around as it causes accidents and incidents that they’ll have to deal with. Transport providers don’t like us clogging up the roads, trains and buses; or causing a jam at Sunglasses Hut at the airport.

As much as I like to pretend I’m driving my rig across Alaska like on TVs Ice Road Truckers, anything more than a dusting of the white stuff and I’m on my way home. Conversely, when the first rays of sun hit our shores, the great British public head to a pub garden to order a pint of lager with a wasp in it. Others strip off and lie around drunk in our parks. Or try to get into cabs in Soho. We need to be wary. Driving in hot weather is very debilitating, even in a cab with air-conditioning.

Flood

Flood

Normally I’d be working Sunday on the cab. I’m not scared to drive into London. I’m only at home because I’m booked in for a family meal in a Hertfordshire pub. I decided to have a rare Sunday off because of today’s Winter Run and the widespread road closures the event requires. To my surprise the Winter Run was called off on Friday, two days before the event. By then I’d committed to my family lunch and I was already in holiday mode. Storm Ciara they called it. As if giving it a name makes it more serious and official. The follow-up storm a week late was named Storm Dennis – not such a glamorous-sounding name. Who thinks up these names?  Well, my twelve-mile drive to Harpenden was essential, as is any visit to a pub. It passed off uneventfully, though people in many places did have serious problems.

So the Winter Run was cancelled because of a bit of wind? Surely scheduling a run in February comes with the risk of, er, winter-type weather. That’s why it’s called a Winter Run. A winter run could be expected to feature ice, snow or wind; and I’d have thought that a proper runner should be able to cope with those conditions. They’re not landing a passenger jet on an icy runway.

In some countries they drive on snow and ice. I guess they’re used to it. Everything shuts down here. Remember the “Beast from the East” two years ago? At the end of February and the beginning of March 2018, I lost four days’ work because of snow. Little over a month later we had three boiling hot days. April 19th was the hottest April day since 1949. Typical British inconsistency.  Of course, under Brexit we are now free to import more extreme weather from non-European Union countries, so maybe we need to get used to strange weather.

I had a friend at university, Finnish Erik. He thought this global warming thing was great and looked forward to seeing palm trees in Helsinki. That was over twenty years ago. Since then we’ve been made aware that the hottest places in the world will become inhabitable in the future, and that folk are starting to move from hot places to more temperate ones. I wonder if there are property investment opportunities in Greenland?

Anyway, I expect that when you come to read this all the extreme weather will be over and we’ll be looking forward to a bright warm spring…