I am going to do right now what is expected of an Irish person and complain about the weather. In Ireland we love to complain about the weather and are completely justified in doing so as it rains for about three hundred days of the year, and sometimes we can have four seasons within a twenty-four hour period.
Finally, when I came to Berlin, I was able to experience a proper winter, spring, summer and autumn. To see the sun during July was a dream come true. Most Berliners will dispute this and claim that the last few summers have been atrocious but I disagree. See, I was never one for overwhelming sunshine and heat so the twenty-four degree mark is just fine with me. What I was most excited for was the snow.
Ah snow. The winter before this never-ending one, the snow took ages to arrive and I found myself going to the window every morning only to be disappointed. When it finally sprinkled its way down it was perhaps the prettiest thing I had ever seen. It made a grey city easy on the eye and the blanket lasted just the right amount of time. This year it has overdone itself. April, and I still see snow on the paths. It is too cold and depressing. If I don’t get to stop wearing the same coat and boots soon they are going to form in to a second skin. Yes I banged on and on about how much I love snow but Mother Nature, there was no need to send me four months worth. See guys, you really have to be careful what you wish for.