The past 18 months have been absolutely incredible, quite simply put. From road-tripping through 13 states of America, to hiking volcanoes in the middle of the Pacific ocean, it’s been a pretty special one – but what I will say, is this:
I have had enough of the sun. (For now.)
As I sit here, in England no less, melting away at an uncomfortable desk in a sweltering office (no aircon – #firstworldproblems), I have finally admitted it. I’ve had enough.
I’ve tried, guys, really I have tried to embrace the hot weather. From a somewhat mild Canadian winter, to an insanely warm spring in the US and a sweltering summer throughout Spain, Portugal & Morocco, I tried to embrace the heat. I even -almost- got a tan.
Then we flew to Australia, where summer was just beginning. And my oh my, was it a hot one.
So right now, after almost a year and a half of straight up vitamin C, I’m craving the cold. I’m craving snuggly hoodies on comfy sofas, and perusing Christmas markets with a glass of hot gluwein. I want a chilly evening around a burning campfire; I want to wrap myself up, throw on some hiking boots and summit a mountain, all whilst the sky is threatening snow. I fancy a nice pair of leather gloves, some fluffy socks, and wearing a scarf for the first time in about 18 months.
But most of all, I fancy not sweating for a bit. Yep, went there. Nice.
In all seriousness, it could just be a serious case of the old itchy feet. I’ve been home now for two months and, up until this point, it has been so busy – a house move, my parents’ retirement, sorting out a job for the interim. Since it’s quietened down, my toes are well and truly tapping and Skyscanner has all but crashed from overuse in the last week or so, SOOO…..
I’m not gloating here, seriously. This is genuine un-enjoyment for me. I’m aware that I am basically committing some form of British blasphemy right now. I also know that when I’m freezing my arse off in the midst of a Yukon blizzard later this year, at some point, I will look back on this article and probably have a little sniffle to myself.
Alas, I am but a Brit at heart – and honestly, what would we do with our time if we didn’t have something to moan about?