Baraf

After a very mild few weeks, winter has finally arrived in London. I opened the front door this morning and was shocked. I called out to Mogfa, the new arrival from Sydney, who rushed to join me. We both stood in the doorway admiring the thick coating of snow on the roof of the carpark behind our apartment block. It wasn't particularly photogenic, however, so here's a picture from the street outside.


I detoured via Trafalgar Square on the way to the train station. Even the lions had a coating.


At school the snow had settled everywhere. The path from the tram station, usually notorious for muggings, had become a treacherous climb, with the students shuffling up like a huddle of penguins. It's weird how they all wear black, despite the absence of a school uniform.


In my excitement I texted my mum and a friend in hotter climes who replied with the following:

Us baraf mein yeh geet gaana mat bhoolna 'zara sa jhoom loon main' (in the snow don't forget to sing the song 'I may sway a little')

Here it is, a valuable warning of what might happen if you get drunk while on holiday in Switzerland.