Which is better: living in a city that gets a lot of snow and knows how to handle it or a city that rarely gets snow so it doesn’t know how to handle it. I have a feeling I’m going to find out this winter.
London had its first snowfall of the season this week. It was just the right amount of snow for me — enough to look pretty, but not enough to ruin your plans. Although come to think of it, it still managed to ruin Stephen’s plans, canceling his business flight to Copenhagen. There better not be snow the day we’re flying back to the states or I’m going to beat it up Lorelei Gilmore-style.
The other day I decided to go to the Tesco Express to pick up a couple things. I looked out my window and saw a clear sidewalk in front of our building. So instead of wearing my snow boots which hurt my feet, I decided to wear my white good-for-walking but traction-less Pumas. It seemed like a good idea at the time…until I got past my building. That’s when I discovered that Londoners don’t seem to have snow shovels. Their solution is to throw salt on the snow. All that does is turn it into a salty slushy mess. The only reason the path by my building was clear is because the porters (doormen) of our building are amazing. I would not be surprised if they cleared the sidewalk with a gardening shovel. If I remember correctly, business and building owners in Chicago could be fined if they did not shovel the sidewalk in front of the building. That’s definitely not a concern here.
I started walking on the snowy-slushy-salty mess, but each time I put my foot down it would slide out from under me. I felt like Bambi on ice or a dog with new shoes on. It was the longest most ridiculous half a mile I have ever walked and have no idea how I made it there and back without taking a spill. The people staring at me were probably thinking, “Look at that silly American, she’s probably from Florida and has never seen snow.” Next time, snow boots, next time. And I wonder if I can get some snow tires for my shopping trolley.