Charleston

After a swing through rain soaked Virgina we've arrived in sultry Charleston, a costal city on the coast of South Carolina. I've never seen downpours quite like the ones we drove through, but that's America, they don't do their weather by halves.

Twenty years ago to the day Charleston played host to Hurricane Hugo. The physical scars have long gone but the local news today featured an item about shelter suitability; they can't take their security from the elements for granted here. We wandered about the elegant French quarter and a friendly lawyer showed us around the court complex which dates from the eighteenth century. The centre of the storm came ashore here and tore the roof off, he reminisced, so they spent two million dollars or so rebuilding it to its former glory.

Winter Living

The other day Ms T announced that she quite liked the weather like it is at the moment and I found myself agreeing. Everybody moans, and sometimes they're right, but really the winter here in the UK really isn't that bad; there are many compensations. It's crisply cold and there's quite a good deal of sharp low-angled sunlight that's been making a run in the park a real pleasure.

I like the contrast between outside and inside too; the chill on your skin being replaced with a glow when you go indoors. And drinking is especially pleasant in winter with red wines coming into their own and decently brewed ales going down nicely. Ms T starts doing hearty food; last night it was meatballs, yum. I hope it gets a couple of degrees lower and we get some snow out in the country coinciding with a day off - I reckon a winter walk would be fantastic and get yours truly off the sofa properly...