The dog watches anxiously as my wife swims out to sea. At least someone can relate to my holiday state of mind
I
am on holiday, standing on a coastal headland under a bright blue dome of sky, the wind light and warm, looking at the weather app on my phone. The forecast and the scene are in agreement: it’s a nice day.
I scroll through all the locations where I’ve previously felt the need to check the weather – Exeter, Marseille, York – until I get to London, where, it turns out, it’s also pretty nice.
Normally when I’m on holiday I only check the weather in London in order to gloat. To justify the trouble and expense of travel, you really want it to be 17C and raining at home. But we’ve pushed back an urgent meeting with a roofer in order to go ahead with our holiday plans, so my mood is doubly weather dependent. I would rather it rained on this headland than over the hole in my roof.
