Can you believe it is 27 degrees here today?! Wait, what? 27? In summer?
Oh, Celsius, you tricky dog, you. That means 80?! (Or 300 Kelvin, if you're into that kind of thing) No wonder the snowpants and down jacket seemed a little excessive (and sweaty) the other day. But one never can tell on the tube. They see the likes of everything. And I mean everything.
Why David, that new hair-style is just fetching.
It's been hot and cloudless the past few days. And just to prove that cultural differences don't always run deep, the British too, shed their clothes at the first ray of sunshine. I don't think I've seen a man with his shirt on for four days. I am also almost nearly blind from the glare of white, white legs that are in short, short shorts. Eight months is a long time people. Self tanner. Or trousers.
To enjoy the beautiful weather like a proper tourist, I went on a "Royal London Walk". Below is a photo of at least a few reasonably dressed (and by that I mean well-covered) people.
I'm off to tackle part of a creative writing project I've procured for myself. Because surely watching TV is research.
That's all I've got for now, folks.
Catch you on the flip side.