As Mirinda drove off to the station, I leant out the glass room door and checked out the thermometer. The time was 8am and the mercury was struggling to hit 6°. My forehead was dry, and I was very, very happy. Okay, I enjoyed Istanbul very much, but not being wet all day because of the heat was something I’d sorely missed. I luxuriated in the cold for most of the day.
To be fair, I didn’t do a whole lot of much at all today. I went shopping, did some washing, watched some telly, backed up the last week of blog posts, that sort of stuff. So, not much. Which, of course, gives me little to write about. Mind you, after a week of very long posts, this is a bit of a relief for my fingers.
Anyway, I can write about what little did happen.
For a start, the weather was a delight. As I walked through the woods, metaphorically whistling a happy tune, the sun was big and bright, the sky was azure blue. And it wasn’t hot. Given my amazing ability to retain heat, I was still dressed in shorts and t-shirt. I got quite a few odd looks from the people wearing a minimum of three layers of clothing.
Mirinda, accompanied by Jason, arrived home at around 6:30 and we sat down to dinner. Jason regaled us with his Oktoberfest exploits. I was rather disappointed that he didn’t smell of bratwurst, and Mirinda wasn’t surprised that he didn’t want a beer.
It was a good first day back home.
