Say No To Snow!

Let it Snow?  Just say NO!

When I was born, it was snowing.  It was February 1978 on the outskirts of Manchester in the North of England, so this wasn’t particularly unusual.  We stayed in the hospital for several days and although of course, I don’t remember it, I like to imagine my Mother holding the baby up to the window of the maternity ward whilst the snow fell down in its soft, white drifts, the jagged flakes descending to the ground like the petals of a gigantic frozen flower.

But listen, enough of the romantic illusion.  This isn’t all chestnuts roasting on an open fire and children playing, having fun.  Snow in England means this: Blocked roads, cars abandoned in the street, shops, banks and schools closed, buses and train services cancelled, loss of pay due to the resulting inability of being able to make it to work, flights delayed and nights spent sleeping on airport floors.  And if you want me to sound less like a whiny westerner concerned with First World problems, how about considering the car accidents on the treacherous roads, broken bones from falls on the ice, A&E departments oversubscribed, the elderly unable to leave their homes due to the unsafe and un-gritted streets, frozen pipes leaving people without water or central heating.

Oh yes, Elsa of Arendelle may be running over the mountains singing “Let it Go” and fabricating a magical snow castle to live in, but back here in the mortal World we’re trudging through the filthy slush filled streets in our soaking winter boots trying to get to work when the buses have stopped running.

I remember a particular holiday a few years ago – I was flying from Luton, England to Fuerteventura in the Canary Isles.  It was a Sunday flight around one in the afternoon – plenty of time therefore for me to get myself to the airport from Portsmouth on the South Coast.  Or so I thought.  The day before I was due to fly the word “snow” was being bandied about on the news like a tennis ball at Wimbledon.  I called the National Trainline to check that the trains would be running the following day as it was of course imperative that I made my flight.  The response was vague to say the least and no guarantee could be given that, should it start snowing, the trains would be running from Portsmouth at all.  I looked out of the window at the darkening skies and made my decision – with help from the wonders of modern technology I quickly booked a hotel for the night in Luton, finished packing my case and headed to the train station whilst the ground was still grey and primarily composed of concrete.

By the time the train arrived at Chichester, about half an hour North of Portsmouth, it had started snowing.  By the time I got my connecting train at St Pancras, the snow was coming down thick and fast.  When I reached Luton an hour or so later there were several inches on the ground and the sky was practically white – it was only early evening yet the place was like a ghost town and not a bus nor taxi were running.  Attempting to use the satnav on my phone, I dragged my case through the dark and increasingly snow filled streets trying to find my hotel – I did find it in the end, in case you are wondering.  And I made the flight, which was several hours delayed.  Unfortunately the terrible weather in Northern Europe had an impact on the South and the usually perpetually sunny Canaries experienced their worst weather for decades.

Don’t get me wrong, I think as much as the next person that a snowy scape can look beautiful and spectacular – but then so can an erupting volcano; it doesn’t mean I hanker after having one in my back garden.  And perhaps that’s what gets me the most – the hypocrisy, the naivety of people when it comes to the white stuff, as though it somehow whitewashes their level of common sense in to the bargain.  After I started my “Say No To Snow” campaign in 2012, people were angry, accusing me of being a killjoy and a pessimist as those first flakes meandered down (despite the fact that the entire thing was really tongue in cheek since one cannot actually campaign against a natural phenomenon) – yet it was those same people who bleated incessantly about their lack of ability to drive their cars/get their groceries delivered/leave their kids in a school/(insert annoying thing that happens due to the snow here) a day or two later.

Naturally you should be allowed the irresponsibility of being excited by the prospect of snow as a child and the joy of building a snowman or sledging downhill on a tin tray or whatever it is children do nowadays – but really, you’re an adult now and simply have to accept that no snowman you ever made came to life before flying you off to the North pole to see Santa Claus and you just don’t have the luxury of irresponsibility any more.  Next time you’re wishing for a white Christmas, consider the aftermath when nobody can travel home due to the adverse weather conditions, you have to find emergency child care because the schools are still closed, there’s no bread in the shops and your elderly Auntie has slipped on the un-gritted street in her village trying to buy a tin of cat food.

These days it snows pretty much every year at the start of February, but this snow baby is a sun worshipper now.  On the 37th anniversary of my birth year I shall be watching not snowflakes but the sun’s rays glistening over the Red Sea as I rest my bathing suited body back in my sun lounger sipping a Pina Colada.

Now let’s just hope my flight isn’t delayed……

#saynotosnow