Snowy London

Being in the tropics reminded me about the London snow in February. How it shocked and halted London, how emotions shifted from frustration of long queues waiting for public transport to celebration of the rare chance to actually play.



I was awaken at 4am and snow had already started dusting the city, like icing sugar on light vanilla sponge. It was beautifully quiet. By mid morning the streets and buildings looked like they were covered in white chocolate ganache, then thick marzipan.





I was greeted "good morning" by a stranger. Smiling. First time in London. People were out on streets with their children. Laughing. Snowmen sprung in frontyards and parks. Met an Australian guy on Putney street and took a picture for him. "This is freakin awesome" he said. Dogs running around delightedly snowfighting with people. Local pubs making a fortune.

That day I managed to draw blank and retreat from fear of uncertanties at work, later secured my new job in Lisbon which proved to be a magical experience.

They call it the "worst-ever snowfall in southeastern England since 1991". It was quite prosperous for me. I went to work the next day and found Marcia and Duarte equally amazed.