Find the sunny side of the street

It’s been a wet and windy summer in the UK. People here are famous for enjoying a good groan about the weather, but even most Brits are now weary of complaining. I’ve been back for three weeks and have seen only three days with no rainfall.

But what to do about it? Suffer, say many. It gives us lush gardens, although those people don’t mention the slugs and weeds that flourish after such downpours. Escape, say others as they peruse last-minute travel websites. The Mediterranean countries, Spain, Italy and Greece, top the holiday search terms. But while some are tempted to escape to the sun, others fret. A neighbour shared her worries. “Is it worth going away? It’s August already. We’ll be getting ready for Christmas soon. Shouldn’t we just give this summer a miss?”

Christmas! It’s still August.

I know I will be criticised for saying this – but go and have fun, no more being hunched down under the wind and rain. Stand tall and straight, feel that sun’s warmth. There is an economic crisis on, and we should all be watching the bank card charges. But the world is out there, and we get one shot at it. We don’t have to go far. When my little family left life in Texas and moved to England, we knew few people and life was lonely. I found I had to take the boys exploring, no matter the weather or the bank balance. We took advantage of special deals and made day trips to Boulogne in France. It gave us such a boost.

Escaping the unhappiness of dismal grey skies and relentless rain is about heading for the sunny side of the street. It is worth it when you get there.

Comments

We're all foreigners somewhere

Most of us don’t think of ourselves as foreigners, even when we’re overseas. We believe that we are one with the wider group. After all, foreigners are something else, they are the people who don’t belong. I remember the first time I realised I was be an outsider. My British Caledonian flight to Zambia had landed in Lusaka and, when I looked out onto the tarmac, none of the ground staff looked like me. It gave me a thrill but also a sense of vulnerability. These people were not my people and I wondered if I would be safe among them. That thought prompted another – this is how visitors to my own country must feel. They are outnumbered, and their dress, skin colour, hair, any number of things, mark them out and perhaps leave them open to hostility. I have to say that I met no hostility in Zambia. Instead, my social skills grew as I learned to reach out to the people I lived among. Perhaps I did it to fit in, to ensure that I was less of a foreigner. I didn’t anticipate feeling ...

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Travel now not tomorrow

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