A phone call to my mother at 11 o’clock at night, my voice hysterical and lips quivering. Standing outside a pub, a cackle of crowd noise and impatient traffic sounds carried down the line, through cables, across oceans, lands and time-zones, to my puzzled beloved, enjoying the morning sun at 8am.
“I’m in London, and it’s snowing!! It’s snowing!” are the only words I can seem to find. My shrieks are of excitement, not anxiousness. “You’re in London!?” “Yeah, yeah, but it’s SNOWING!”
Remembering that I hadn’t written in a few days, and that my decision to hitch from Amsterdam to London hadn’t been cabled through yet, I quickly filled her in. Dancing in the white powder next to me, were old friends, new friends and day-old friends. We had just stepped out of the ‘Roundhouse’, where Angus and Julia Stone, an Aussie brother-sister duo had transported us with their cutesy voices and swinging melodies.
Having never seen such magic fall from the sky before (excepting once when i was yonger than memory), I spent the next hour smiling, cyring and giggling as my hat and jacket bleached with a blanket of snow. Finally, the Dutchman (Erik) and English-ish-man (Colin) convinced the two Aussie ladies (myself and oldest friend Ange) that it really would look just as nice from inside in the warmth.
The rest of the night was spent nursing a glass of red wine and heating my toes in a perfectly English pub, Colin pouring out his poetry all over the piano, crystals of tears forming in my eyes at the beauty of it all.
Yesterday I was 16, Ange pouring Goon down my neck, today im 21, here with her on the other side of the world… who’s to guess what tomorrow will bring. Im betting on lots more love, laughter and… snow!