I am definitely not a vampire. Of this I can be sure. I live for sunshine, I’m miserable without it and no amount of time spent in front of a UV light box is going to help me. I love walking barefoot on tarmac and feeling the warmth under my feet. I love wearing flip-flops every day. I would be happy to never have to wear a coat ever again in my entire life.
I’ve long since believed that I was born in the wrong country. I was simple not designed to be cold. I was always that wimpy kid during school swimming lessons who would cry every time we had to get out of the pool and make the freezing cold walk of shame back to the (equally freezing) changing rooms. I still sleep under a 15 tog duvet in the middle of summer. I was still going to bed clutching a hot water bottle until March.
So imagine my horror when during my very first week in Australia it began to snow. Fortunately the weather soon picked up (moving away from Ballarat was a good start) and I even started sporting some very sexy tan lines. At first I was made fun of. During a very early spring day my hosts came home to find me dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. They were still wearing jackets, and did a bit of a double take when they saw my attire. “You’re looking very…..summery.” they smirked. “It was bloody hot today!” exclaimed the naive tourist. Cue lots of laughter and head shaking. “Oh, Katy……..no…….no. This isn’t hot.” At this point I’ll admit that I did have a momentary panic thinking that I might not be able to hack the heat of an Australian summer after all, but I soon got over it and spent the next eighteen months enjoying every hot, sticky, sunburnt moment.
I spent today in Ely. Not quite Australia, but even I have to admit that it was beautiful. The flip flops were out in force and the usual cappuccino was replaced by an iced latte. We’ve got a while to go before there’s evidence of anything even remotely resembling a tan, but I do have a slight white patch on my wrist where my watch sits. And that counts, right?