After two days of clear skies, warm days and a light breeze at my back, I walked out of my rented house in Carnoustie this morning to be greeted by an arresting chill and a driving rain. Man, is it dreary.
So what if it's July 18th, welcome to Scotland.
I grabbed a light rain jacket but, not to be discouraged, I struck out for the golf course wearing shorts and short-sleeved golf shirt, refusing to admit that there was any chance the sun might not come out later in the day. Halfway throught the five-minute walk to the course, I was cold and wet, telling myself what a dope I am. This is what a rainy day in late October feels like at home. All around me, cheerful native Scots were bundled up in wool sweaters, pullover fleeces and rain gear.
So what. I'm from Philly. We laugh in the face of nasty weather.
1 comment:
Joe,
Your post reminded me of a story about my first visit to Scotland in the summer of 2002. Having been to my mother's homeland on a few occasions I know one thing I would need. The week before I left, I went to REI in Plymouth Meeting for a raincoat.
I bought this nice one by Columbia Sportswear. I get to the counter and am stuck with a very anti-social cashier who asked me where I was going.
"Scotland," I told her.
"You won't need a raincoat," she said.
"Have you ever been to Scotland in summetime," I retorted.
Needless to say, that rain coat came in handy during my trek around Edinburgh. Dad and other tourists hid under awnings and such while I stayed high and dry in my rain jacket and I wore it with shorts as well.
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