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Kurosawa's Rain
Apr. 24th, 2007 05:57 pmI changed rooms today, as I am now being cared for by IBC, rather than my own pocket. This means a step down from the executive floors to the land of the masses, but it's no great sacrifice. Broadband now costs me $12 a day rather than being complimentary (but I'll charge that to the company), and there is no access to the "executive lounge" on the 18th floor.
The more that I travel abroad, the more I come to the conclusion that I am one hell of a shitty tourist. I think that my ideal holiday henceforth will be lying in the shade, reading a book. I wasn't like that 30 years ago.
Then again, I am one unlucky fucker. When I went to Berlin in 2002, I got caught in the middle of an August storm that lasted some 72 hours and flooded much of the country (and a few others besides; the Czech Republic had a great time, I recall). I thought that, with Hanoi, I was just being a fussy Englishman about the humidity. The staff give you a little piece of paper with the weather forecast each night, and it said "partly cloudy", with a minimum of 26C overnight and a maximum of 31C during the day. No mention of the humidity level, but it felt horrific.
And this was confirmed when one of the members of staff complained to ME about the humidity. Ah-hah, I thought. It's not just me.
Now, call me mad, but why should I trudge through the hell of the open air when I don't feel like it when I can sleep in the comfort of an air-conditioned room, or read a book? If I were Vietnamese, I know which one I would choose.
But, hell, I'm a TOURIST. So I have to do things that I don't want to do, in weather that I hate, because that is my role?
You see what I mean about me being one hell of a shitty tourist.
Anyhoo, the humidity should have been a warning, because, although the monsoon season doesn't begin until May, and notwithstanding our beloved local hotel weather forecaster, the wind started blowing up at around 3pm (is that a Mistral? It was certainly warm enough) and at about 7pm, down came the rain. Fucking global warming. You can't even rely on monsoons arriving in the right month any more.
Well, if that isn't a clear indicator that the Caribbean is in for one shit-stormer of a hurricane season, I don't know what is.
But the good thing about the rain is that at least I feel less guilty about not going outside. Apparently 90% humidity (or whatever) is no excuse not to go outside, while stampeding rain (or severe cold, for that matter), are. This is weird, because I find both of these less unpleasant than I do overbearing heat and/or high humidity. Why is that, I wonder.
The bad thing about it is that, if this weather persists, I suspect that my trip to the coast for the two-day trip on a junk is gong to be fairly miserable. But, hey, I can always sit in my cabin and read a book, and no-one is going to be imploring me to go swimming. So, maybe not so bad after all.
Later. Monsoon stopped. It's midnight and air outside is verging on bearable. Progress!
( Rain )
The more that I travel abroad, the more I come to the conclusion that I am one hell of a shitty tourist. I think that my ideal holiday henceforth will be lying in the shade, reading a book. I wasn't like that 30 years ago.
Then again, I am one unlucky fucker. When I went to Berlin in 2002, I got caught in the middle of an August storm that lasted some 72 hours and flooded much of the country (and a few others besides; the Czech Republic had a great time, I recall). I thought that, with Hanoi, I was just being a fussy Englishman about the humidity. The staff give you a little piece of paper with the weather forecast each night, and it said "partly cloudy", with a minimum of 26C overnight and a maximum of 31C during the day. No mention of the humidity level, but it felt horrific.
And this was confirmed when one of the members of staff complained to ME about the humidity. Ah-hah, I thought. It's not just me.
Now, call me mad, but why should I trudge through the hell of the open air when I don't feel like it when I can sleep in the comfort of an air-conditioned room, or read a book? If I were Vietnamese, I know which one I would choose.
But, hell, I'm a TOURIST. So I have to do things that I don't want to do, in weather that I hate, because that is my role?
You see what I mean about me being one hell of a shitty tourist.
Anyhoo, the humidity should have been a warning, because, although the monsoon season doesn't begin until May, and notwithstanding our beloved local hotel weather forecaster, the wind started blowing up at around 3pm (is that a Mistral? It was certainly warm enough) and at about 7pm, down came the rain. Fucking global warming. You can't even rely on monsoons arriving in the right month any more.
Well, if that isn't a clear indicator that the Caribbean is in for one shit-stormer of a hurricane season, I don't know what is.
But the good thing about the rain is that at least I feel less guilty about not going outside. Apparently 90% humidity (or whatever) is no excuse not to go outside, while stampeding rain (or severe cold, for that matter), are. This is weird, because I find both of these less unpleasant than I do overbearing heat and/or high humidity. Why is that, I wonder.
The bad thing about it is that, if this weather persists, I suspect that my trip to the coast for the two-day trip on a junk is gong to be fairly miserable. But, hey, I can always sit in my cabin and read a book, and no-one is going to be imploring me to go swimming. So, maybe not so bad after all.
Later. Monsoon stopped. It's midnight and air outside is verging on bearable. Progress!
( Rain )
