Shorts, with a chance of Woolly Hat.

The weather here is starting to, amusingly, remind me of British stuff I’m used to. Kind of. It helps that I’ve adapted to it all, to a certain extent; the heat doesn’t feel as hot now. Makes it feel more familiar.

It’s cold in the morning, for a given value of cold. You get up and potter around going ‘Argh where are my woolly socks!’ before you realise you don’t have woolly socks, you moron, this is Thailand. So instead you forgo thoughts of woollen socks and get ready, maybe having a hot shower; a cold shower is out of the question, if you can help it. You put on a pair of long trousers, consider them, step outside briefly and decide that yes, it’s defiantly too cold for anything shorter, thank you. On goes a top or two, and a cardie or that one jumper you (Your mother) had the foresight to pack (‘Why will I need a jumper? It will be way too hot.’ ‘Always be prepared.’ ‘Fine, fine.’) You have breakfast, and a cup of tea which you warm your hands around pathetically and then suddenly its 7.00 and you’ve got to hop in the van, which is covered in condensation. You’re pretty sure that’s a sign it’s gotten colder. Or that it rained over night. Either way.