You know those days when your brain is five seconds behind the rest of you and you never quite catch up? Well, I’ve been having a few of those lately. No, it’s not what you’re thinking: “moderation” (it says on my desk calendar) is the bon motte, or word of the day. No, the source of my being “out-of-sorts” is, it seems, the weather. You see, according to the Poles, any untoward feeling you may experience as you stumble, walk or dance through your Krakowian days can all be attributed to “the weather.”
“Why do I feel so tired today?,” you ask. Your Polish friend smiles knowingly and looks up. “It’s the weather,” she replies, with a gentle nod of the head. And it’s such a wonderful, forgiving idea that I’ve started using it myself. I mean, as an Englishman, I love talking about the weather. I could talk about it until the cows come home. But to actually chart and blame my emotions on the rise and fall of the air pressure? Now, that is good! How did we miss that one? I mean, how can anybody prove you wrong? Not even “the weather” itself can discredit such a theory.
What’s it going to do? Have a hurricane hover over my flat, block my driveway with snow, blow away my Internet connection? That would only upset me more and prove my point. No, in Poland, it’s safe to blame any physical and spiritual malaise on “the weather.”
Of course, informed reader that you are, you know that the British have a lot of weather of our own – too much, some might say. Greedy, even. Maybe so. But here again, I prefer to divest my countrymen of all culpability and, instead, set the blame squarely on mother nature and the British maritime climate. Changeable, unpredictable, awful: frankly, you’re welcome to the “anglii pogoda,” (English weather), as the Poles call these wet and windy days. But we”re all in Europe together now, right? And, with international borders falling faster than the greenback, we can expect even more anglii pogoda in the future.
However, politics aside and excuse me if this sounds like a complaint (I think it’s the change of air pressure) but I came to Poland partly to escape all things British, and that definitely includes the weather. My first Krakowian winter (2005) was a snowy winter wonderland from November to April, closely followed by a blistering, broiling summer.
Like those long, sunny school holidays of my youth, I want the weather back. And I mean the good stuff.
No medicocity; I want extremes. In fact, I demand them! But am I likely to get them? Not with global warming, I’m not. At this rate, we’ll have to go to Norway for our skiing and the Tatras will soon become a mountain jungle.
Anyway, thanks for reading. It has helped. I feel a little better now. Hey, do you think “the weather” works as an excuse for hangovers and being late for work? Minor criminal offenses? You must excuse me: I’ve gotta go call the editor and ask for some more time to finish this article.
Apparently, there’s some patchy rain on the way. That should be good for a couple of days.