First Snow in Glasgow

Snow

There is a lot to be said regarding the inconveniences of snow, but being an Australian who did not make use of the ski season, I'm fairly certain it will take a great deal more snow and inconvenience before the novelty wears off.

It isn't only that it changes the whole world around you, changing the mood and flavour of any environment, nor how pretty the flakes are as they fall, although of course I love these qualities as well.

What I love best is how tactile an experience snow is. I love walking on snow, the way it crunches and crackles so satisfyingly underfoot. It has a wonderful give and at the same time, a perfect firmness as well. The way it moulds so perfectly to the pattern of any sole is just a little bit ridiculously delightful, and should I retrace my steps I can't help but examine all my footprints and be pleased and proud of their crispness. Except when I drag my heels, which is often it would seem. And, oh! The sound snow makes when tromped upon! I love it! The crunch, creak, grind, crackle, squeak and squawk, I love it! The same way I loved cracking acorns in Wilmington, and I stomp on gum cups back home, and curly dried bark.



I don't actually like touching snow. It is, unsurprisingly, very cold.

Snow is a storyteller. Today I went for a wander through Nottingham, and found a bowling green locked away and that square of unbroken white was asking to to be written upon. By birds, by rabbits, by dogs and by me.

When snow is fresh, it makes us explorers and pioneers, treading where no one has trod before.

I saw a White Horse on a White Hill

The giant chalk figures carved into the slopes of the Salisbury Plain were definitely on my list of Wonders to Behold, and so yesterday my native guide and I set off on a quest to view the Uffington White Horse, along with other neolithic marvels.

Now, as I said, these carvings are chalk, ergo, white.



Heh.

Beneath the Wind, Above the Snow

Small hours on a German station, MAKE VIDEO BLOG

If you're going to watch any of these stupid videos of mine, watch this one. The South Coast of Iceland is just gorgeous, the little glimpses provided in here don't even give you a taste.

While I was standing inside the glacier I took my glove off to run my hand over the ice, and started laughing, as I do when something delights me.
"It's dry!"
"Yes," said the Dutch Man still lingering. "It is ice."
"Yes, but it's dry!"
He nodded, and stated again, a little slower, "it is ice."
There was too much of a language barrier between us for me to explain that where I come from, no ice stays dry.

ICELAND LAND OF ICE

HOLY MOLY I AM IN ICELAND ICELAND ICELAND.
THIS IS VERY EXCITING.

Landed at 6 in the morning, and it was full dark. To say the land was covered in snow, or that snow blanketed the land, or any other number of clichés would be correct but not fitting. THERE IS SNOW EVERYWHERE.
EV
ER
EE
WHERE
Which, for those of you who live in northern climbs is not such a big deal BUT I AM AUSTRALIAN AND THERE IS SNOW ON ALL THE THINGS.

The bus from the airport dropped me at my hostel around 8am, which is far too early for check in. I was more than happy to collapse on one of the many couches available for just such a purpose, but as it turns out, the dorm room I'm staying in is empty. Huzzah! So I was checked in right away. Huzzah! And it is still empty apart from me. Huzzah!

I really haven't done much of interest apart from locate a supermarket and acquire a power adapter (because yes, I managed to enter the country without one before hand, smart move asswipe). Exploration of Reykjavik is for today.

Here is a little taste of what is in store. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the view out my window;



And this is what greets me upon stepping out the front door of the hostel;



YES REALLY.

Nothing opens until 10am, which given my general attitude toward mornings, makes this country tailor made for me. Time difference saw me wake at 4. It is now 9.42 in the A of M, and the sky is only starting to get light.