So, after ten days in Egypt covering the Nile Trial, where the temperature refused to dip below 25 degrees, I step off a plane at Heathrow only to be chilled to the bone. And I was disappointed – not because of the coldness, but because all the lovely snow which fell in my absence seemed to have all-but disappeared. Oh well.
You see, for some daft and childish reason, I love the snow. I don’t know why – and perhaps, I never will. Maybe it’s a sad part of me that’s clinging to my childhood; perhaps it’s the way that snow has a cleansing effect on the grottiest of landscapes; or it could just be that the snow gives me the opportunity to have some fun behind the wheel.
So, when I looked out of the office window this afternoon to see it coming down again, I can’t say that I wasn’t delighted. And as the hours passed, and the snow became deeper, my smile got wider. When I finally packed up at about 7.00pm, I bounded out into the car park, cleared off the snow resting on my Tomcat and jumped in. Once underway, I was pleased to see just how competent the R8 was in these conditions – I never thought it was going to be much cop but, when it came to it, the torquey engine, grippy tyres and positive steering gave me enough opportunity to really enjoy myself.
The 15-minute commute was more of a hour-long odyssey in the end, thanks to meandering Vauxhall drivers, but I didn’t mind; people seemed to be playing safe and if that meant they weren’t crashing and ruining my day, then that was a bonus.
So, fun all round…?
But why, oh why, do so many people choose to moan and whine about it? Why do they see nothing but misery in a cold snowy world? Why do they do they see it as bad? Come on people, stop moaning – get out there and enjoy yourselves. For 200 days a year, it rains here… so why not moan about that instead and have some childish fun in the snow?