Dear friends, I have a confession to make.

Those of you who know me well may recall that I have an aversion to counting my chickens before they’re hatched. I’ve often been told off by friends for getting angry when, while working together or travelling, they announce how well things have gone. Nothing grates on me more, and I usually tell them not to say such things and give a tap on some wood, just in case. In my experience though this has often worked, for whenever I’ve left it alone (as I suspect most people would rather have me do), things tend to go wrong. This is, you might say, my only superstition.

Last week, as you may have read, I wrote about how spring had finally arrived here in Trier, and how the sun’s return came as such a welcome, warm relief after middle Europe’s darkest winter on record. You might even say I bragged about the weather.

Indeed, that gorgeous weather continued through last weekend for my trip to Basel and Konstanz, where I found myself walking around without a jacket more often than with one. I even had to duck into an H&M to buy myself a cheap-o pair of Eurotrash sunglasses (when in Rome…).

Alas, in enjoying and writing about the weather I broke that one superstition. The snow has come back to Trier with a vengeance, and we’ve had some of the lowest temperatures of the year the last two days along with white-out snowstorms. I’ve even begun to suspect I might be to blame for the slew of cancelled flights across Northern Europe two days ago. Sorry guys.

My street, covered in snow

My street, covered in snow

It was a bitter walk home with no scarf nor toque

It was a bitter walk home with no scarf nor toque

Still, the sun endeavours to sun through, and though it’s -4C outside I’ve opted for my shorts and sandals – ever hopeful, but hopefully not too presumptuous. It has been an awfully boring winter, anyway.


About supertylor

British Columbian 20-something spending a(nother) year in Trier, Germany.
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