We've heard it a million times, that vexing phrase, “be careful what you wish for, coz you just might get it”. Uttered by the smug and patronising. Pah, I'd think, that's a good thing, I want to get what I wish for. Now I understand what it means. Really. Truly and deep down to my frozen toes.
I've been wishing for real snow, proper snow, chestnuts roasting on an open fire kind of snow, for as long as I can remember. Last time I was over here it snowed maybe twice and so briefly that it never even settled. The only time I got a real decent crop of snow was in the arctic when I went to the icehotel. As I was writing my last blog to you, the snow had just started in earnest and I was naïve in my anticipation of it. Oh its exciting, I wrote, there will be about a foot of snow in the lane maybe.
Well it was damn near close to that, and when I woke up on Monday morning and opened the curtains to the balcony, I have to say I was shocked. How the hell do I get to work, I asked myself. What if I cant make it to work coz I'm Australian and not built for these kinds of climates but everyone else can manage, I'll look stoopid. I really wish I had of stolen those snow boots from the icehotel I thought, as I tucked my tracksuit bottoms into my explorer socks (Ooohhh and if you think that sounds unfashionable......you would be right) As a precautionary measure I packed an extra set of trousers and socks in with my office shoes and armed with my camera set off down the lane.
It was awesome, even as jaded as I am now about the whole snow thing I have to say walking down that lane on Monday was brilliant. My feet crunched in the powdery snow, it was all white and pristine and no one else had walked on it yet, I don't know about anyone else but being the first to break a smooth surface gives me a deep sense of satisfaction that I cannot adequately define. The slide into an undisturbed pool, the foot print in the sand smoothed by tides and now the first foot print into an expanse of snow. It makes me happy. It was still snowing too as I made my way to the station, snow falling soundlessly but thick and fast. The security gates opened with a greater sense of grandeur than normal, as they swept the snow out of their way in great drifts, to let me by. The streets were mostly silent given that all the cars were buried under great piles of snow. I had to laugh as I walked past a group of school kids, who obviously wouldn't be going to school today, building snow men and throwing snow balls exclaiming “This is awesome!” All the footpaths were still covered in snow and only on the main streets could you see where the snow had been turned muddy brown from cars that had dared to venture out. Churchfield Road out the front of Acton Central Train station looked like a frontier town with white snow on either side divided neatly by a muddy strip of slush. I crunched hopefully to the train station only to be greeted by a bemused London Overland worked who laughed at me when I asked him when the train was coming, “Normally I say catch the bus but they're gone too, and even if you could get one there's no tube running” Ok then, I'll wait for a bit because I am nothing if not eternally optimistic and then I'll just have to go home and wait til it stops I guess, the responsible part of me thought. But the irresponsible part thought “Woooo hoooo, snow day!!!!” After waiting and hour and chatting to people as they wandered on to the train platform and wandered off again, I resigned myself to snow day. Ah, they joys of snow day. Its pretty, its fun to play in, you cant go to work even if you wanted to and you feel obliged to eat things that contain chocolate. On my way back home I bought some chocolate croissants from the little corner shop, and for some reason, popcorn, I had some crazy snow induced idea that I would pop popcorn in the aga and watch the snow fall. I don't know, maybe I've seen too many Bing Crosby films, I didn't end up bothering with the popcorn its still sitting in the cupboard. I spent most of my time taking photos and playing outside in between calling and chatting to people about the snow. So that was Monday, no train, no tube, no buses, no nothing. By Monday evening it had stopped snowing which gave the snow time to melt and then refreeze just a little so that all that lovely snow I'd crunched around in the day before became bone snapping ice. Walking down the lane was no longer fun. Walking anywhere was no longer fun, it was a death ride to tractionville via compound fracture alley. I needn't of worried about hurrying to the station because the train was certainly taking its sweet time. I eventually got on the district line and had to change half way because the train kept stalling. You better know that's freaky in tunnels.
I had consoled myself with the thought that surely the pavements from South Kensington to Chelsea would have been salted and gritted, those are rich people down there, surely they'd be using the finest maldon sea salt to grit their pavements lest the widow Pilkington-Smythe break a hip whilst out walking her Pekinese. Well I can tell you if she was out walking her Pekinese that morning she would have gone arse over tit because those pavements were worse than the ones in Acton. To give you an idea of how bad they were my choice was to either walk on the road which had been gritted and risk being hit by the 211 to Victoria station or risk the icy pavement and I chose the road. The walk to work down Chelsea Manor St was worse, black ice all over the place, the congealed splashes of coffee, like a Jackson Pollock painting on the ice, where someone had come a cropper with their morning cup of Joe. I had to concentrate so hard not to fall over I didn't even listen to my MP3 player lest it distract me. I didn't get to go for my normal lunch time walk because suddenly it had become hazardous to my health. In fact I didn't get to see the outside of the building until home time when I nervously shuffled my way back up to South Kensington Tube station and on to the train bound for home. Getting home was an odyssey in and of itself, on the breakneck paths from Acton Central rail. At that point, I was not happy about snow. Now its Thursday night, and after one day where its finally started to get back to normal I find out that more snow is on its way tonight. 60% chance that its going to be as heavy as it was on Monday. Fuck it, you know what, at this point I realise there is nothing to do but deal. Take the pretty when it comes and deal with the icy at the end of it. Its life isn't it. Into each life a little snow must fall and in its falling turn to slush which freezes over and tries to kill you. Here endeth the lesson.
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