Weather

An acquaintance of mine was asking a few days ago on Facebook whether our climate had somehow decided to follow the path of our economy by becoming more and more similar to that of a third-world country. In fact, things have been wild here, as far as St. Peter’s decisions are concerned (to those not familiar with the catholic cultural framework: St. Peter is supposed to be responsible for the weather). Summer holidays (we still have those, so far…) started with funny temperatures: people here are not used to having to wear warm clothes at night from May to September, but all of a sudden we were discovering the concept of wind-chill in early-August. This added to an atmosphere of general depression: with the prospect of a meager Christmas ahead, people were also being deprived of the summer, with fortnights in the Algarve being ruined in the face of rainy beaches that vaguely remembered those of the British Isles.

Then, I left: I went abroad on a European road-trip. Quite shocked, I realized that northern Italy was getting better climate than Portugal, and that alongside with higher wages. That’s tremendously unfair, I thought. In fact, we have this long-held assumption that good weather and economic success are mutually exclusive. When I returned to Portugal, my sense of misery was confirmed: September started with three rainy days. Through the windows I stared, hopelessly disgruntled, at the green slopes of Minho, then coated in a cold mist. Such a startling and unexpected sense of irishness (except for the economic recovery)!... The impression was everywhere the same: the summer is over, people thought; if we’re lucky we may get a nice Indian summer (we call it St. Martins summer) around November, but that’s rather unlikely: Frau Merkel, as part of her punishment of the lazy southerners, won’t certainly allow it.

And suddenly, there comes the heat. Uninterruptedly. From then until now temperatures have risen, and with them wild fires proliferating and the beaches showing themselves in their full glory again, filled with people and journalists. Yes, journalists: every single piece of news on TV starts with a journalist interviewing somebody on the beach, these days. I guess that’s a habit we got from our historical friends, the British: the weather is certainly a widespread topic of verbal intercourse, here (I wouldn’t call it conversation, really…). We just take it a little further, by making it breaking news. Quite unlike the Brits, however, with their monotonous rain, we do have plenty of reasons to talk about the weather. We’re very concerned, indeed. The most pessimistic look worriedly at the Sahara, fearing it will engulf us; in a fortnight, and with the first chills of winter, they will probably do the same with the Arctic. The most optimistic wonder if we will ride camels, or if codfish will decide to make its abode along our coast. In the meanwhile, and whatever comes, I shall enjoy the 35 degrees Celsius forecast for today.