As slightly anticipated this morning turned into a bit of a nightmare. I woke up at 7 and looked out the window. The street was thick with snow and all the cars looked like they'd been covered in polystyrene so they could be boxed up and posted off somewhere.
Given it's a hire vehicle it was quite hard to remember which car was mine even when everything hadn't been given this spooky uniformity, but luckily I remembered vaguely where I'd parked it and hoped that the snow wouldn't block the radio waves that would unlock the doors, so I'd be able to identify it with one click.
But would I be able to get the car back?
The plan was that I would drop it off by 8.30am and then be picked up by the car that would take me to Broadcasting House from the car hire place. I texted my press guy, Ben, to check it was all still on. He said it was, but that the car would be earlier than planned.
So I rushed to get out of the house. I thought ahead enough to put on some gloves and a fleece, but I wasn't anticipating being in the snow for too long, so had my canvas Converse trainers on.
As my ice scraper is in the boot of my actual car I looked through the kitchen drawer to see if I could find a substitute snow remover. I found an odd wooden implement which I guess could be used for frying eggs. It had come from one of the Edinburgh flats that I had shared with Jenny Eclair, Chris Addison and Dan Antopolski. There hadn't been any wooden spoons in the flat so we'd bought a pack of four and then taken one each when we'd gone our separate ways as a kind of rubbish memento. I imagine the others threw theirs away. But the joke was on them, because mine was now finally going to be used for the first time in six or seven years.
It took a while to get enough of the thick snow off the car (which sure enough had flashed its lights at me through its protective cover of frozen water), the useless cooking implement did quite a good job. I was going to put it back in the house, but thought maybe I might get into trouble and need it again, so put it on the seat beside me. I neglected to bring a bag to carry it in. I realised I was going to have to turn up at 6Music holding an unusual cooking utensil. They would probably find me charmingly eccentric.
And all that might not matter if I was unable to move the car from its snowy prison, or if I skidded into a wall or if the roads were full of traffic, slowly sliding into each other. I have never driven in such thick snow and would have preferred to be in a familiar car. And I didn't want to get charged for an extra day's rental and anyway my cab was going to be waiting for me, so I had no choice but to give it a go.
It was a little tricky pulling away from the kerb and only one or two cars had been down my road this morning, but I managed to get out on to the main road which was a little less covered.
There weren't many cars around at all. In fact far less traffic than there would have been. And though it had the feeling of being in an episode of "Day of the Triffids" or "Survivors" (though being up at 7.30 makes me feel a bit like I'm in a science fiction show anyway), progress was steady, but swift. I am sure I got to Harlesden much more easily than I might have done without the snow. And I didn't crash, which was a relief.
I was at the car hire place within seconds of them opening. I think they were quite impressed that I'd made it through the icy conditions, and they were clearly in the middle of a bit of a panic themselves. They were having to ring up all the people who had booked cars or were returning cars to see if they were still coming in. It was an administrative nightmare. Though the woman running the office told her slightly disbelieving staff that if people didn't managed to return their cars then they would be charged for the extra day. Good to see them encouraging people out in such treacherous conditions.
I waited for my the cab in the warm of the office, but a call from Ben explained that it was going to be late. Fifteen minutes later it became apparent that no car was coming for me. I was over three miles from home, wearing water-absorbing shoes and carrying a strange wooden spatula. Usually the car hire place would have offered me a lift, but because of the snow they were making no such promise. I decided to walk.
Was I making a mistake not seen since the last days of Scott of the Antarctic? At least my iPhone gave me an idea of the best way to go. And I thought with a bit of luck I might be able to get a tube or a train from one of the local stations.
No such luck of course. Buses and tube lines were all cancelled in this post-Apocalyptic world. I would have to trudge. And if the local inhabitants of Willesden turned feral then at least I was brandishing my cooking implement to fend them off with. And maybe if society had fallen apart then I could either use it as a
baton de commandement (which it rather spookily resembled) and become leader of the people of Park Royal and Wormword Scrubs or I could at least use it to help fry eggs. My position in society was at least assured.
There were lots of excited kids out in the streets, delighted that they were almost certainly getting the day off work and also ecstatic at this rare and wonderful phenomenon. Settling snow turns a child's world upside down: an excuse not to study, plus the one occasion when they are encouraged to throw projectiles at other people. I was anticipating one of them attacking me and was narked off enough already to be considering caving in their skulls with my spatula. Luckily for them none of them picked me out as a target - maybe my wooden stick made me look too insane - though at least two gangs were having fun chucking snow at passing cars. I think if I had been so ambushed earlier I might have lost control of my vehicle.
I was not enjoying the snow like the children though. My feet were already wet and I was moving slowly, occasionally nearly losing my footing, but managing to stay upright (though I saw a couple of stumblers and they at least made me laugh, even though I was aware this might be hubristic). I am usually charmed by a winter wonderland, but I was too far from home this time. It reminded me of the time when I was about eight, (apologies if I have mentioned this before) and my mum and dad took me for a long walk on the Mendip Hills after a night of heavy snow. The drifts then were up to six feet high and it was fun for a while, but then we got cold and a bit lost as all landmarks were covered and only got home because we managed to take an illegal short cut through the quarry. I got home freezing and chattering and was put into a hot bath. I was already looking forward to that part of this ludicrous trek.
There was still some charm to be had though. I enjoyed knocking snow off walls with my gloved hand or baton and I also spotted big icicles, which I don't remember seeing for over thirty years (they must have been there - I just haven't noticed them). I used to be fascinated by these icy spikes as a kid and imagined them as the perfect murder weapon, just disappearing once you've used them. I wondered if I should break one off and slam it into Ben's stupid face. But I was just grumpy from the cold. I would have had to find my own way home from the car hire place if I hadn't been meant to be doing the interview. Though I might not have set off so early.
Maybe that was lucky too though as the main roads were now clogged with traffic.
At Willesden Junction I wondered if I might get a train to Shepherd's Bush, but looking at the glum commuters on the platform I decided I would just keep moving rather than risk turning into a blue-faced ice statue.
I headed down Scrubs Lane and when crossing a little slip road which seemed to be snow free and brown I realised too late that I was walking through an ankle deep puddle. I tried to jump over it, but the whole road was just a big puddle. The freezing water soaked into my socks. I was well over a mile away from home still. I felt like a character in a sitcom. Improbably caught out in the snow in inappropriate footwear, carrying a kitchen tool and inadvertently wading through a puddle. What a sight I must have been
With so far to go, with my drenchfoot, I was pretty sure that this would kill me, but if it didn't I would surely lose a couple of toes. It was taking so long to get home that I considered just lying down in a drift and letting death take me - or hope that someone would call an ambulance that would take me somewhere warm.
But bravely I pushed onwards and soon my wet feet didn't feel quite so frozen, but maybe I'd just lost feeling in them. On the plus side I had been planning to go to the gym, but decided that what turned out to be a 90 odd minute walk was probably exercise enough.
6Music wanted to do the interview by phone, but I was grumpy and tired and trying to avoid falling over and I decided that I wouldn't be able to sell my tour very efficiently in the circumstances. We're doing it tomorrow instead - over the phone I would imagine. The snow has carried on falling all day.
I was cursing my useless and expensive gear box. If that hadn't busted then none of this would be happening. But at least I knew I had Warming Up covered for the day. Even if warming up would not be the main theme of the piece.
But once home and in the bath I did at least manage that. Though I was so tired and unsettled that I didn't manage much else today. So not just the schoolkids having a day off. But this is the first properly snowy day of my life where I haven't made or thrown a single snowball. I most surely am getting old.
