i grew up in dunedin, near the bottom of new zealand’s south island. it gets pretty cold there, at least it feels it, because until recently the houses were not well insulated, & no-one told us about central heating. “put another jumper on!” was mum’s reply when we complained of being cold. we would only heat the room that we were in, hurrying along draughty hallways, freezing our butts on the toilet, & in the mornings pulling our clothes into the bed to get half-dressed before we got up. most winters of my childhood it would snow at least once, enough to settle thinly on the ground and distrupt the traffic so we’d have a day off school. we’d take the metal tea-tray and large plastic bags, & slide down the neighbour’s front lawn (it had a much better slope & length for sliding than our garden). when i was around 12 i did a newspaper delivery round in early the mornings, & it was always a pleasure to be the first one to step in the fresh crust of snow. but the next morning, or even by the end of the day, the snow would be reduced to a dirty slush. sometimes we would persuade mum to let us put some snow in the freezer to save it, but the results were never satisfying. dunedin is on the coast, so the salty sea air melts the snow, & in fact the temperatures are not really so cold – it rarely reaches zero.

but munich is a different story altogether; today the forecast high is -1, with a low of -16; fine snow is falling constantly, so that footprints disappear soon after you walk. it’s really like a christmas card image outside, the trees heavy with snow & people wrapped up with fur-lined hoods. i made an attempt at going for a swim this morning – some friends were going to pick me up, but they couldn’t get their car out because of the snow; so i walked to the bus stop and waited for the bus. and waited. and waited. while i waited, i watched workmen shovelling the footpaths, clearing piles of leaves & snow into the back of a little truck. cars went past with lumps of dirty snow dropping off their mudguards. a man in a motorised wheelchair went bravely and surprisingly quickly along the footpath. 3 buses went in the opposite direction. after 30 minutes of waiting i gave up. i went into the supermarket & bought clear nail-polish to repair the runs in my strumpfhosen, & as i came out i saw the bus leaving. i walked home with my umbrella up & my furry hood falling over my eyes, & was impressed to see that the postie was still cycling.

they tell me i’ll get sick of it. perhaps i will, & i’m glad that tomorrow the forecast is fine, because i’m flying to italy for magfest torino. but right now the snow is beautiful & exciting. compare this image with the autumn scene just 6 weeks ago …