All a bluster about the weather

THE Brits are famous for indulging in a bit of a whinge from time to time, but when it comes to the weather, Aussie expats take the cake.

Admit it or not, Mother Nature’s behaviour is one topic that’s guaranteed to get people talking, especially Australians living in the UK.

I’m the biggest culprit.

I can’t remember the last time I lasted a whole day without saying ‘God, it’s cold’, or something similar.

With feet and hands like icicles 99 per cent of the time, there’s nothing I love more than a 30-degree-plus day.

While everyone on the Tube gets flustered and complains about the heat, I am in my element.

If only I could bottle that heat up and carry it above ground.

That being said, I long for the day when I can do as the British do and just weather it.

When I see them getting about in T-shirts and flip flops when it’s just 14 degrees, I get rather jealous.

Unlike me, unpredictable weather doesn’t stop them getting outdoors and enjoying themselves.

Take music festivals, for example.

It’s almost a case of the wetter the better.

You’d think by now they would have laid concrete across the Glastonbury grounds, not to mention installed roofs on all the courts at Wimbledon.

Until recently, I thought I was making progress in the bravery stakes.

When the seasons changed and the temperature climbed from single to double figures a few months back, I remember thinking ‘Wow, it’s warm’.

I was proud of myself for adapting so well to the London conditions.

But I was wrong. Ascot and the Southern Sounds Festival proved that.

After failing to survive long enough to watch INXS at Southern Sounds, I decided to not even try to brave Ascot, despite having a ticket and outfit all ready to go.

No matter how hard I try I just can’t ignore the goosebumps on my arms and the numbness of my toes. Cold, wet weather turns me into a monster, especially since it’s meant to be summer.

Some call it weak, but that’s not fair.

My internal heating system just doesn’t work as well as that of those warm-blooded Poms.

Well, that’s what I’m putting it down to, anyway.

If any Aussies can help me get my radiator burning at full pelt, I’d be forever grateful.