Something else I’ve noticed is that groups seem in the habit of waiting outside a place until all their friends arrive, and then go inside once they’re together, instead of the Costa Rican way of waiting inside and the group growing as people arrive. Why a culture that has to withstand such weather would develop a habit of waiting outside in the cold is beyond me, unless it’s to encourage punctuality so that their friends don’t freeze to death.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.

After my very long walk yesterday I had the toenails on my pinkies annoy me a bit, like they feel when they’ve grown too large and I’ve got to trim them. Today when I’m going to shower, I see some residual dry blood in the toenail.

I’ll spare you the pictures, but turns out the pinky’s toenails split vertically from the cold, probably since the pinkies were the ones closer to the outside of the boot. Nevermind that I was wearing very thick socks and hiking boots that were just fine in winter when navigating the very cold, very windy ruins at Curtea de Arges.

Vero kept talking about felt-stuffed boots and other things I had dismissed until now. This place makes Romania look like a summer home in Guanacaste.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.

I had forgotten what real cold was. I had experienced it on Romania, a few years ago, and quickly came to the conclusion that any weather in which you can unplug your fridge and leave the food on the balcony without it getting spoiled (not even an open balcony, mind you) was just not designed for humans to live on.

But you know these things intellectually. After a while you forget the experience since, you know, in Costa Rica we consider 22 celsius to be cold. You don’t grok them again until you cross a gate in a sunny Holland afternoon, wearing a heavy coat, and are blasted by freezing air. Air so cold that you’re soon shivering and breathing in short quick gasps.

And Holland was sunny. Coming down into Berlin I could see a large canal full of ice, and found it was very lightly snowing when I stepped off the plane.

Then at the airport I was greeted by this:

Springtime For Hitler. That’s nice and timely.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.