It had a certain inevitability. The UK’s May Day bank holiday weekend beckoned, but after a surprisingly warm and sunny April what happened? A washout.

The bank holiday was supposed to see us picnicking in the local park, catching up with old friends, many of whom we hadn’t seen for years thanks to our expatriation. A chance for us to meet each other’s kids, reflect on how we’ve all changed in the seven years since we moved to Spain.

But the rain, whipped up by a north-east wind and chilled by 10°C temperatures, put paid to that. Time for Plan B. So we found ourselves splashing through puddles en route to a tenpin bowling alley in a desperate attempt to find some indoor activity to keep the children entertained.

The usual British holiday routine, in other words. Welcome home!

Mind you, it’s no better in the corner of Spain where we used to live. From the Catalan meteorological bureau I see much of the Pyrenean region is being layered in fresh dumps of snow at the moment. And the Costa Bravan coast – normally basking in warm Mediterranean sunshine by now – is stuck with maximum temperatures of just 13°C, while being pummelled by rain and the fierce northerly wind known as the tramuntana.

Seems the cold winter so many parts of the world experienced this year just doesn’t want to let go. What will summer bring, I wonder?

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