Apparently those of you back in the UK have been suffering some extreme weather conditions. All that snow and ice. I can sympathise because here in Mauritius it has been debilitatingly hot and sunny. Almost unpleasantly boiling. But luckily mainly pleasantly boiling.
Today I tried to walk barefoot from my room to the loungers that my girlfriend had procured by the pool. I managed to get most of the way by weaving through shadowed bits and walking on the grass, but if I was on the paved area for more than three seconds it was really burning my feet. I have walked on burning hot coals and the sun-baked pavement in Mauritius was hotter and more impossible to traverse. You could practically hear the sizzle of burning human flesh.
At the last part of the journey though I realised there was about sixty metres of paved area to get across before I got to the safety of the lounger. I gave up on my quest and put on my shoes. I would literally have melted into the ground had I attempted it. Boy, it's hot. So if you're cold, imagine how bad it could be for you. You should really think of other people's suffering before you complain - oh so you got snowed into your house, did you? I nearly burned my feet! Yeah, now you look stupid.
And then to make matters worse in the middle of the afternoon the clear blue sky rapidly filled with dark clouds and it began to spit with rain. You heard me. Actual rain. It had rained on the day we arrived, but after that we've had nothing but much too hot sun (and I have a couple of bits of sunburn that look like birth marks, livid and almost purple). And now rain was spitting down on us.
Which was quite refreshing for a minute or two, but then the drops of warm rain got bigger and harder and it began to pour. Looking around the pool we could actually see steam rising off the concrete. The floor had been so hot that the water was evaporating. It was beautiful and surreal. And you're there complaining about the cold, I ask you.
We ran for cover and then thought we had spotted a break in the rain and made for the bar. But the elements were not to be tricked so easily and seeing us heading out from shelter, the rain gods decided to make it come down even harder. The bar was only twenty metres away, but we got quickly soaked and ran laughing into cover and decided we'd better have a cocktail to overcome the trauma, even though it was only 3.30pm.
The rain continued for a good fifteen minutes and then the clouds disappeared as quickly as they had arrived and it was boiling hot again. But for fifteen drunken moments our holiday had been ruined. Ruined!
I hope you feel sorry for us.
Oh and even though I am away that doesn't stop the Collings and Herrin juggernaut trundling along. We recorded an extra one for you, confusingly in the week before Christmas, which is a review of the decade. You can also find out what Andrew Collings got me for Christmas (which may not be too much of a surprise) and what I got for him.
It's here as usual. And obsessive nitwits that we are, we might even try and get another one in late next week. I arrive home on Friday morning at 6am and we have plans to record a semi-jet-lagged podcast that afternoon. Which might be interesting. Or similar to that one we did in Edinburgh when I was tired and ill. Hopefully the latter so we can call it 97a, meaning we've still got a shot of the live podcast on 1st February at the Leicester Square Theatre being number 100 (even we've already done more than that in reality). That show is very nearly sold out by the way, so don't leave ticket buying to the last minute.
