Half way through what some people called “the summer”, I noticed something had changed in me: I was missing the sun.
Since I left Portugal in 2008, I had never missed the sun; I’ve never been a “beach person”. Living in the Algarve doesn’t mean you can stop working and enjoy the heat, it just means as soon as you get to work you need another shower. I never liked that.
But this time it was different, the lack of sunlight and heat was really getting to me, to the point that I would check the temperature in other cities like Lisbon, Stockholm, New York, San Francisco, daily, and complain to N how everyone else seemed to be having a “proper summer”.
My first thought was that I’ve been here a while so I guess it’s time I miss it. And for a while I believed it. Then I remembered it was not just my fourth summer in the UK, it was my first summer away from London.
Don’t get me wrong though: I had a good summer. We had parties, barbecues, lunches, dinners, lots of people visiting, friends coming around, and a really great time around the house. But I think I’m more forgiving about the weather when the backdrop of the cold and the rain is London.