Hard Rain

Can't remember the monsoon season keeping going this late into the year. Got quite fed-up yesterday at not being able to go for a walk to Holland Village. Very much felt the need to stretch my legs, but didn't fancy getting wet-through doing so.

Things looked very different this morning, with the rain having finally let-up. After clearing some necessary preparation for the working week ahead I set out in the early afternoon for the village with the sun not exactly beating down but certainly in attendance. And for the next thirty minutes or so it looked as if my decision not to bother taking a brolly with me would be confirmed as solid common sense. Then, pretty much upon arrival at my destination, I detected the first drops of rain in the air. Initially it looked like a few drops were all we were going to get, but within five minutes the heavens had opted to open and the rain came siling down.

For a good ten to fifteen minutes or so I found myself rapidly crossing open spaces and diving for cover as I looked for somewhere to grab a cuppa. Sadly I was able to confirm the closure of my favourite CBTL outlet, which had been boarded up on my last visit, but finally settled at a place across the road from its former location to enjoy a cappuccino and a quick scan of a couple of publications I picked up from the magazine shop on the corner. By the time I'd finished my drink the rain seemed to have settled to a faint drizzle and I prepared myself for the walk back, thinking the worst was over. Fortunately my preparations were of the long-winded variety since before I actually made my way to the exit down came the rain again, and I mean came down hard.

At this point I thought seriously of waiting for a break in the downpour and running for a bus, but, to my surprise, the downpour decided to cease pouring after a snappy ten minutes. As it did so, I bravely opted for the return journey on foot and made it back to Dover Road pretty much unscathed, considerably assisted by the covered walkways all along Commonwealth Avenue offering protection from the occasional drizzle. 

My adventure wasn't quite over though. I needed to buy one or two things from the supermarket across from the homestead and, having purchased these, thought it a good idea to grab another cuppa from the drinks stall and sit for a bit of a read, confident that the worst of the rain was over. It wasn't. A fierce squall manifested itself just as I thought of crossing the road and getting back to safety. For a time I thought it likely I'd end up soaked on arrival after all, but the squall blew itself out and I got back reasonably dry and congratulating myself on my deep good fortune. Of course, rain in this Far Place isn't like Manchester rain - bleak, and unforgiving - but a soaking is a soaking even if you don't exactly freeze in the process.

The uncertainty of it all made my little trip quite exciting in its way. But I'm happy to wait out the rest of the day, dryly secure. It helps that I've got Noi's return from foreign climes to look forward to later (though it seems too late to contemplate staying up for.)