he first thought I had when I saw this weather forecast for the weekend, after a week of rain, mind you, was: I am going to the park on Sunday, taking off my top and laying in the sun. After three years here, I can finally understand the desperation that sets in after months of wondering if the sun has in fact burned up and now ceases to exist. That appalled shock I used to feel when stumbling upon German women casually soaking up the springtime park sun in their white, lacy bras - which is not because I'm a prude mind you, topless beaches are OK by me - has turned more into an intense desire to take my own clothes off the minute the sun graces us with its presence. Take the time to go home and change into the more 'appropriate' bikini top and it could be dark and stormy by the time you return. It's also inspiring to see Germans, the wonderfully anal planners and rule-followers that they are, do something so spontaneous just because it feels so damned good.
So until the cursed rain stops and the sun shows its face this weekend, I will be tucked away indoors, nursing a serious case of SAD, and now unfortunately, also a bit of cold/flu. But as soon as that sun shows its glorious face and the temperatures reach 20C, I'll be running to the nearest patch of green, throwing down a blanket and soaking in the vitamin D with the rest of the Germans - bikini top or not.