Winter time blues

A sunny winter's day is glorious, but being in an office all day means you don't get to enjoy it.

You wake up at 7.30am and it's dark. Then you drive for about an hour and a half to get to work because it's raining, and as everyone can't be bothered to cycle as it's so cold, there's heaps of traffic.

When you finally do get to work it's light, which makes you happy, but an hour before you leave, it starts getting dark again, and you come across the same traffic troubles as before.

I guess I should subscribe to the Englishman's dream of having two weeks off every summer in the Mediterranean with a bunch of screaming kids.

That should probably lift my spirits - the idea of two weeks 'paradise' in a year full of rains - but it doesn't. And frankly I'm glad because I couldn't think of anything worse than two weeks of extreme heat and burnt skin.

Well, everyone to themselves.

I can't imagine 'everyone in the world' enjoying a weekend's trip to a Hampshire river fishing for Roach, Barbel, and Perch - which is a bit of a dream holiday for me.

Or I couldn't imagine 'everybody' wanting to take a road trip around the deep south, stopping in juke joints and drinking moonshine. (Not that I've ever done that, but I would really like to).

But anyway.

I don't mean to take the mick.

Because me, like everybody else, has done the 'two weeks in the med' about one billion times, and for some reason, I keep getting drawn back to the cheap booze, the feeling of sand in your pants, and the taste of Bisto gravy 400 miles from home.