The forecasters were right. The first snow of the winter arrived in East Anglia last night. Finally! Perhaps it will justify that vast outlay on winter tyres in November. I was beginning to give up hope.
I love snow, always have. Not every memory is a good one, though. For example, it reminds me of the first and only sledge I have ever owned. It was a Christmas present when I was ten and my family had just moved to Scotland. It was one of those old-fashioned wooden ones with metal runners. It looked great and at the first sign of snow we drove to the Cairngorms, got the sledges out of the car (my sister had been given one too), and proudly carried them to the top of a gentle slope. We put them down, climbed on board, grasped the rope, and promptly sank into the soft sticky snow. Those babies weren't going anywhere. With their heavy metal runners they were better suited to the Cresta Run. It wasn't the greatest disappointment of my life (believe me, I've had a few) but it was in the top 50.
The most interesting encounter I've had with snow took place when I was at university in Aberdeen. Each year the student charities campaign – the largest of its kind in Scotland – chartered a train to take 400 students from Aberdeen to Kyle of Lochalsh on the west coast and back. The train would leave Aberdeen at 9.00am and return in the evening. Well, that was the plan. In my first year students got so drunk and the communication cord was pulled so many times that we returned rather later than expected and in disgrace. It caught the attention of the local newspapers and the headlines were not complimentary. I was a steward on the train so I was sober by comparison with most of the passengers. Nevertheless a girl did throw up on me when I was consoling her for feeling 'unwell' so I didn't escape the mayhem.
The following year British Rail reluctantly agreed to let us charter another train. As before we set off promptly but by the time we arrived (without incident) in Kyle of Lochalsh it was beginning to snow. Two hours later, in near blizzard conditions, we were the last train allowed to leave the tiny station. We were due back in Aberdeen mid evening but en route we got stuck in several snow drifts and with only a driver and a guard on board stewards had to help dig the train out.
At one point a tree crashed down and broke the windows in a carriage that was then unfit for anyone to sit in. Worse, another train got stuck further north and British Rail took the decision to send our locomotive to rescue it, leaving 400 students in a siding near Inverness without heating or food and very little to drink. We finally arrived home at seven o'clock the following morning. This time the newspaper headlines were rather better and in an archive somewhere there is a copy of the Aberdeen Press & Journal with a picture of me and my friend Dougie Kerr (recently retired from the Foreign Office), each with a shovel, pretending to dig the train out of a snow drift. The real work was being done by other students out of shot.
On the Andrew Marr Show this morning a guest mentioned how Americans are obsessed about clearing their driveways of snow. By coincidence we were woken at seven o'clock this morning not by the dog wanting his breakfast but by our American neighbours shovelling snow off their drive!!! Is it a compulsion? Is it in-bred? No-one else has bothered to clear their drive and the road itself is under a thick carpet of snow. In fact the only visible tarmac is outside our American neighbours' house. I'm not criticising. It's a harmless addiction. But why do they do it?!
Talking of the dog (now seven months old), today was Roly's first experience of snow. My son took him for a walk and the dog returned with large chunks of snow stuck to his legs, chest and tummy. He looked like a monster from Doctor Who. We tried pulling the snow off but a lot of it had stuck to his shaggy fur and wouldn't come off, however hard we tried. We then used a hairdryer in the hope that we could speed up the melting process. It took an hour before he was in a fit state to wander around the house without leaving pools of water everywhere. Problem is, he's due another walk this afternoon.
Above: the view from the bottom of my road this morning.