Finally, some days of actual heat. Not summery, warm-ish, but hot. I must admit after four summers here I am still baffled. The first two were painfully sweltering and the last two have been bizarrely cold. Wearing jumpers and long trousers type of weather. So it’s been stunning to have the last few days where it’s been… twenty… five… ish… oh forget it, I’ve got no idea what the temperature actually was. Everything’s reported in Celsius, and I’m still utterly clueless when it comes to translating that into practical terms.

Look, as a scientist I’ve been deeply steeped in the world of metric for many, many years. I know the three most important Celsiuses:
0 º C = 32 º F
37 º C = 98.6 º F
100 º C = 212 º F = 373 K (Oh yea that’s right, I just went Kelvin on your ass!)

When I’m told it’s 68 degrees, I know exactly what that means in Washington DC, and grab the nearest skirt and long sleeved tee, and I’m done, dusted and out the door. Here, I’m at a loss. And I play my guessimation games, “Ok if 10 is like 50 and 20 is like 70, then today is….” but they the time I follow this train to its conclusion I’m well distracted and moved onto some other morning chore that doesn’t involve me getting dressed. It doesn’t help that it could easily be 18 degrees in October, March and July. Seasons here can blend into one, whilst the next week can be completely different from the last and so knowing the temperature is actually rather important. This is why I’ve just given up and taken to carrying a jumper with me always, like an old crazy woman.

(P.S. Did I just use the word 'jumper' twice in that post? #59: Sweaters are called jumpers, for no discernible reason.)