BurbleChaz

The Australian climate was not the sole reason for our migration from Northern Europe, but it was certainly a positive consideration. We were looking forward to long, warm days with balmy evenings, followed by a gentle, pleasant Autumn. So, it must be said, were the locals. Since we arrived, Sydney has had the coldest, wettest summer in decades. We have had howling gales, torrential rain and thunderstorms measured in days. This sort of thing is always happening to us. Last year, in Victoria, our arrival was greeted with a dry gale that drove the largest bushfires in a century. I'm sure we could make a fortune out of this. Just think how much people would pay us not to visit.

The major difference in the weather between Sydney and Bristol is not so much one of meteorology, as one of timing. In the UK, five days of pleasant sunshine during the week will precede an Atlantic gale with record rainfall over a bank holiday. Every bank holiday, in fact. Here, it's the other way round. The weather is vile, unpredictable and miserable until a major public occasion. Then, the clouds part and the rain stops for long enough to toast the exposed population with ionizing ultraviolet. This pattern, which we first observed on Australia Day, repeated today for the Mardi Gras (yes, yes, we know) celebrations. You have to admire a climate that has a sense of humour. Hypothermia, drowning and malignant melanoma are just three of the ways it can kill you, all on the same afternoon.

The following photograph is entirely unrelated. We were having a quiet beer, (exposed to ionizing radiation, but not actively hypothermic) when some fellow drinkers abandoned their chips to this chap:

Do you mind if I join you?