Southern Spain.
Warm weather. Sandy shores. Sizzling sun. (I was going to include "beach bumming," but I figured that would be highly inappropriate for any British readers.)
The words alone elicit sensational alliterations of heat.
When I first learned that I was going to be teaching in Murcia, situated near the Mediterranean Sea in the southeastern part of the country, the same words popped in my head. And they took over my brain as I prepared for my trip and packed my luggage, causing me to skip packing the heavy jacket, umbrella, and rain boots. In fact, they stayed stuck in my head until late November last year, when I started to realize that those items would have been highly useful. In the past year, I've done my fair of umbrella shopping (I have a habit of forgetting and losing).
Friends and family often ask me what the weather is like during the winter. A sufficient, general response would be, "Lows are in the 40sº(F) and highs are in the 50sº(F)." But on days like today, 50ºF seems so much colder when the rain incessantly falls onto dry ground that is unaccustomed to large amounts of rain nine months out of the year. So it gathers in giant puddles to the sidewalks and brings the humidity to a chilling 100%. A humidity that Murcians like to say goes por los huesos...gets to your bones.
There is a common misconception among the Western world that has been perpetuated by the screenplay version of George Bernard Shaw's character Professor Henry Higgins: The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain. Well I'm sorry to tell you, Professor Higgins, it doesn't. Maybe you never took the time to travel south of England or France. Or perhaps you only briefly joined your compatriots for a summer holiday on the Costa Blanca and didn't bother to stay beyond October. Because you have created a giant misunderstanding.
No, Professor Higgins, the rain in Spain does not fall mainly in the plain. But rather the rain in Spain falls mainly in the middle of Murcian sidewalks and seeps into my shoes.
I just wanted to clear that up.
My advice to a guiri: Cómprate a nice pair of rain boots for the winter months.
Warm weather. Sandy shores. Sizzling sun. (I was going to include "beach bumming," but I figured that would be highly inappropriate for any British readers.)
The words alone elicit sensational alliterations of heat.
When I first learned that I was going to be teaching in Murcia, situated near the Mediterranean Sea in the southeastern part of the country, the same words popped in my head. And they took over my brain as I prepared for my trip and packed my luggage, causing me to skip packing the heavy jacket, umbrella, and rain boots. In fact, they stayed stuck in my head until late November last year, when I started to realize that those items would have been highly useful. In the past year, I've done my fair of umbrella shopping (I have a habit of forgetting and losing).
Friends and family often ask me what the weather is like during the winter. A sufficient, general response would be, "Lows are in the 40sº(F) and highs are in the 50sº(F)." But on days like today, 50ºF seems so much colder when the rain incessantly falls onto dry ground that is unaccustomed to large amounts of rain nine months out of the year. So it gathers in giant puddles to the sidewalks and brings the humidity to a chilling 100%. A humidity that Murcians like to say goes por los huesos...gets to your bones.
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| Treading home from campus |
There is a common misconception among the Western world that has been perpetuated by the screenplay version of George Bernard Shaw's character Professor Henry Higgins: The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain. Well I'm sorry to tell you, Professor Higgins, it doesn't. Maybe you never took the time to travel south of England or France. Or perhaps you only briefly joined your compatriots for a summer holiday on the Costa Blanca and didn't bother to stay beyond October. Because you have created a giant misunderstanding.
No, Professor Higgins, the rain in Spain does not fall mainly in the plain. But rather the rain in Spain falls mainly in the middle of Murcian sidewalks and seeps into my shoes.
I just wanted to clear that up.
My advice to a guiri: Cómprate a nice pair of rain boots for the winter months.
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