I used to say that the difference between Czech Republic and Wales
was the rain. In Wales it rains all day, all week, all fortnight, when the rain
sets in it's in. It’s like a distant family member who has cone to stay - it
invades your life, hogs the remote control, eats all your food; there is no
budging it.
Czech rain on the other hand was more violent, sudden downpours
that cleared as quickly as they came. It was like a visit from the Jehovah Witnesses
- always annoying, usually inconvenient, sometimes staying around too long and
messing up your hair but usually easy enough to get rid of, eventually.
But these days the Czech rain has taken on a Welsh accent, and
started humming Calon Lan to itself. The clouds are lower, the rain finer and
more persistent, it’s not quite in for a fortnight but it certainly gets under
your skin.
Today I was going to go on a bike ride but the rain put pay to
that, there’s nothing worse for me than a wet bike ride with water splashing
off the tire up your back no thank you. Then I was meant to go to watch the
first game of the Czech Rugby season. I still did that but it left me damp to
the core, with the holidaying Welsh rain running down my face.
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