Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 3 degrees, cold, overcast and rainy.
My second Sunday in England is wet. Last Sunday was beautifully sunny but cold; today, it has rained all day. The weather forecast for today and the next two weeks is rain, rain, and more rain.
The lovely sunny but cold days are over, and I am now facing the reality of the infamous British weather.
I don’t remember long, cold, rainy days for eternity from when I was a child. I remember the snow in the winter and how it stung when it got through my boots and gloves. I also remember the summer with hot days when we would go to the fields behind our homes and street to climb trees, play football, or explore. There seems to be two extremes, but I don’t remember many long, cold, depressive, gloomy rainy days like now.
A day when you don’t want to go out, just stay in and morph at home. I tried to go out to feed the swans and ducks, but the rain was too strong and harsh. The cold without rain, even if a little sunny, is bearable, but with rain, it is ten times worse; it feels like hell, going straight through to your bones. It is understandable why depression and suicide rates are so high in northern European countries. Then, mixed with alcohol or, even worse, drugs, you have a ticking time bomb leading to death row and a dysfunctional society.
In the morning, I worked, and during a break, I had coffee with my mother, and we sat talking. The conversation was good; one thing led to another, and we discussed various topics from the past, including my brother and his wife, the grandchildren in general, and some past misunderstandings that, for my mother, remain fresh, bothering, and hurting her. I shared my undervalued opinion and perspective while trying to clarify some things that needed to be addressed, and everything seemed fine.
Before coming to Brazil, I considered staying in England for more than two months; however, it was unclear and uncertain at that moment.
We had a late lunch, and I took a nap for now.
When I got up, I was shocked to discover someone had debited money from my credit card without my authorisation. I contacted my bank, Nubank, to inform them that I was unaware of this debit and authorisation for £15, which is R$100 Brazilian Reais and quite expensive.
This situation also highlights how costly England is for me, as the Brazilian Real has little value outside Brazil, while the English pound remains one of the most expensive currencies in the world. So, for me, it’s like facing two extremes: I’m earning in Brazilian Reais, which hold little worth, and spending in pounds, which are worth a ton of money.
I cancelled my credit card, which may have been a little rash at the time, but I couldn’t risk it. As a new credit card will only be delivered in Brazil, I will have to ask Nalva to send it to me by international Courier service, which again will be expensive and one more unnecessary cost.
I had also received a message, video and photos from Yasmin and Nalva showing me a flat for them to possibly rent, which they had visited in the city centre of Rio. I replied to the message, giving my opinion and leaving it for them to consider in the future.
So, a single day filled with ups and downs and a slap in the face from reality due to the infamous British weather that we simultaneously love and hate. Although I don’t enjoy watching TV, I watch a bit with my mother before going to bed.
In bed by 10:00 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
