Snowed in
Here are my some of my photos from London's Day of Snow yesterday. Like the rest of the street, I got the camera out on Sunday night when the first few flakes started to fall. But that was nothing compared to waking up to a complete white-out on Monday morning, the heaviest snowfall London has experienced in 20 years.
The view from my window at 7.30am.
With public transport completely shut down and no way to get into central London, there was nothing else for it but to don a pair of wellies and embrace the situation. So we decided to head over to Greenwich to take in the sights. The usual breezy 20-minute walk turned into 40 as we trudged through knee-deep snow and negotiated icy pavements. And despite the fact I was wearing bedsocks over a pair of cashmere tights and jeans, it was still toe-numblingly cold. But it was all so pretty - even the dumpsters at the side of the road took on a fairytale, sugar-coated appearance.
As soon as we got to the park we followed the sounds of wild whooping and cheers to find half of South-East London using every kind of flat implement to hurtle themselves down the hill. I spotted quite a few baking trays and road signs - but I was also surprised by the number of old-fashioned wooded sledges and snowboards that turned up. The local dogs went batshit-crazy by all the excitement.
After learning the fine art of rolling a snowball worthy of the finest snowman, we retired to the first open cafe we could find for a restorative cuppa. I have no idea where we ended up, but as most of Greenwich had closed down, that little cafe must have done a roaring trade. By the time we got home I felt like I had trekked to the Arctic and back, and rediscovered the simple pleasures of a steaming bowl of tinned Heinz tomato soup.
Snowman wears COS scarf.
