The rest of the world has snow. In Lisbon, we have rain. Equal to or greater than the white stuff everyone else is getting. Now, I'm a Brit, and a *Yorkshire bred one at that, so rain is something I wouldn't ordinairily take much notice of. Rain runs through my veins.

But I can't help but notice the Lisbon rain. It's almost relentless. And unlike the town I'm from in the UK, it does a very curious thing ... it's vertical rain. I'm used to torrential sideways rain, with drops as big as your pinky finger slashing away the first layer of skin on anything it comes into contact with.

And another thing - it's warm rain. Yorkshire rain tends to sit around the two degree mark, even in the middle of summer. But what's really amusing (to me - an expat abroad in a country that is used to dry heat and a distinct lack of the wet stuff) is how the Lisboetas deal with it.

Two words; they don't. Unlike me, they go everywhere with a huge umbrella, the kind that city gentlemen in London cart around, in order to look important. Nay ... they're almost the circumferance of fishing umbrellas. You could hide one elephant and a small table underneath some of them.

And that's when it's the equivalent of what I'd call spitting. Hardly worth calling it rain. When it rains proper, when it drops from the skies as though the devil is on it's tail, most simply stop walking, take shelter and ... hide. With their oversized umberellas still in full sail.

Hilarious. Yesterday I went out shopping down the street. It was bucketing it down. I was bareheaded, lacking an umbrella and completely unperturbed by the soaking I was receiving - remember, it's warm, vertical rain - and it was one of the few times that I didn't have to walk the streets as though I was dodging the All Blacks trying to make a touch down.

Usually I'm jostled (a lot), have to side step, duck, dive and weave. Mostly I just walk in the side of the road. I can see cars coming and they tend to avoid me. Old folks with shopping carts and women with huge handbags are deadly. But none of this happened yesterday ... because most of my fellow city dwellers were hiding.

Though hiding is the wrong word. I could see them all quite clearly and being 'obvious' doesn't constitute hiding. They were sheltering then. Under shop canopies and the like, doorways, that kind of thing. Lovely. I floated down the high street like an ocean going liner on her nth voyage.

I was wet mind. But I was unjostled. On calm waters. Enjoying my journey the usually chaotic streets of Lisbon. And all because of the rain. Fabulous.

Though there is a downside to my wet wanderings. People think I'm slightly unhinged. Or brazen. But I've an answer to that ... "Lisbon rain is but a gentle annoyance, nay it's nought but a single flea on a dogs hind leg (to me) for I'm English and where I come from, we only call it rain when it attains monsoon proportions"

Anyway, besides anything else, the rain outside is currently warmer than the shower water in my apartment. So beware Lisbon. I may be going out there for more than a walk in the morrow!

*Yorkshire? The land of perpetual wind and rain. Google it.

• frogdropping's blog
• Add new comment
• Quote