Sunday, June 3
The rain pours down, the clouds cling to the mountains and I wonder what all the tourists are doing, stuck inside their hotels. Yesterday I stood on the pier watching the dark clouds approach from out at sea. A couple of friends stood with me, two local men that had married American girls and moved away. They were back for the summer, each with two blonde little girls in tow. Skye was ecstatic to have her bilingual friends back in town and oblivious to the storm approaching they raced around the pier in multi-coloured streaks.
Years ago, before these friends had moved overseas, we used to play a game. We would stand on the edge of the pier in the winter, watching as rainstorms approached. Sometimes they arrived from out at sea and we would watch as the Islands, 4 km away, disappeared completely into a haze of rain and cloud. We would stand, tense and ready to run. The game was to wait until the last second possible before the storm hit the town and then race home as fast as we could to avoid the big fat raindrops that quickly turned into a deluge.
Yesterday, as the storm crept closer we sat together but did not prepare to run. Racing through a storm with babies in buggies was not an option. So as the first raindrops fell on our heads my friends gracefully moved into the nearest bar and settled at a table. I took Skyes hand and started to follow. But I paused and looked back at the storm. It was still about a kilometre away. Could I make it home in time? With her? I glanced at the bar which was now crowded with people who didn’t want to get wet. I decided to risk it.
We ran, hand in hand, uphill, as the skies became darker and the big raindrops started to fall. The wind started blowing, whipping the rain around in all directions. Skye pulled her hood close around her face as my umbrella gave up and collapsed, too weak to battle with the strong wind. We arrived at home shaking droplets onto the floor just in time before the downpour started.
My decision to run for it was well made. The rain didn’t let up for hours. Carlo arrived home at 9pm in his waterproofs, dripping wet friend and a stack of damp, warm pizza boxes in tow. We closed the front door, secured the shutters, turned the lights down low and watched a film whilst feasting on pizza and beer as the rain continued to pour down in the world outside our living room.
(If anybody is coming here in the next few weeks from the US and wouldn't mind finding a tiny bit of space in their suitcase for a couple of hair products could you let me know?)
at 11:22 AM