Blimey. Chilliness abounds.
Yesterday, I nearly died at Portishead by the side of the Bristol Channel. And bloody hell, there are nicer places to pop your clogs, I can tell you.
I would have taken more photos on such an elemental day, but I was shaking too much: when my brother feels the cold, you know it’s bad.
It was bitter and I needed a pint of the same to recover.
Then onto the football – least said, soonest mended, although I will quietly seethe forever at the inexplicable and biased actions of Mr A Wanker – or whatever that ref’s name was. Still, always a pleasure(?) to watch my beloved red and white wizzzaaaaaards.
Today – sunnier, more beautiful, less windy, slightly less chance of getting hypothermia. Slightly.
Up onto the moors above Sheffield for a walk in the snow. And very pretty it was too.
Photos from the first two days (which have passed far too quickly) are here.
Tomorrow, Newcastle, where I can apparently expect to see A LOT of the white stuff – and get some more of that infamous Portishead-style wind.
Back into the pub, then.