No Rain in Spain

The Danes and the British have in common the innate compunction to complain about the weather. When I first moved to Denmark, I was quite surprised to hear how negatively the Danes spoke about the Danish summer because I found it to be far superior to what I was used to in Scotland. I still think that overall the Danish summer is better than the Scottish summer, but over the years I’ve started to grumble along with the best of them.

There are summer days in Denmark that are the stuff of dreams. Fantasies about brown legs and sandals, spending entire days outside and losing track of time really do come true, and I even had (yes, past tense!) a tan to prove it. On the other hand there are considerably more days where the sun goes into hiding, and leaden skies descend over little Denmark, disgorging sheets of driving rain that threaten to extinguish even the most resilient spark of summer optimism.

Then again, there are the days in-between that are neither one thing nor the other – days that the Danes would describe as being leverpostej (leverpostej corresponds roughly to the English ‘blah’). Despite the temperature lurking around the mid to high teens, it’s usually cloudy with recurrent rain showers and enough of a breeze to irritate even the most stoic of garden-dwellers.

The farmers, however, seem to have known all along that this summer would be rubbish and have been busy harvesting since July. Unfortunately, since the farmers tend to work when conditions are dry, their operations regularly collide with my own sorties into the garden. The stoor thrown up by their combines is fanned by the wind into towering clouds of dust and then transported directly into my rosé.

In short, the Danish summer weather is predictable only by its unpredictabliity. This, I think, explains the mass exodous of Danes to Spain or Greece, or anywhere, really, that has guaranteed sun for an extended period of time. For the rest of us who have either by chance or design remained in Denmark, this summer has been something of a damp squib and the early arrival of autumn is serving only to compound our despondency.

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. The good news is that according to Danes autumn is the optimal season for hygge, and we staycationers are getting a good head start with the cocoa and slippers. So if you happen to be one of the lucky ones who managed to get away for a bit of sun this summer, don’t be surprised to find that IKEA has sold out of candles and blankets by the time you return.

 

Brune ben og brok

Danskerne og briterne har det tilfælles, at de begge er født med, at de føler sig nødsaget til at beklage sig over vejret. Da jeg flyttede til Danmark, var jeg overrasket over, hvor negativt danskerne udtrykte sig om det danske sommervejr, fordi jeg syntes, det var overlegent i forhold til det, jeg var vant til i Skotland. Jeg synes stadigvæk, at det danske sommervejr i det hele taget er bedre end det skotske, men i årenes løb er jeg begyndt at brokke mig så godt som nogen.

I Danmark findes der sommerdage, som drømme skabes af. Fantasierne om brune ben, bare fødder og det at tilbringe hele dagen udenfor bliver til virkelighed, og jeg havde endda en solbrændthed til at bevise det! På den anden side er der markant flere dage, når solen gemmer sig, og der sænker sig en grå himmel over lille Danmark. Hertil kommer så meget regn, at selve den mest modstandsdygtige gnist af sommer-optimismen bliver slukket.

Men igen er der de dage, der ligger imellem, som hverken er den ene eller den anden ting: Danskerne beskriver dem som ‘leverpostej’, og briterne kalder dem for blah. På trods af at temperaturen lurer omkring de 18 grader, plejer det at være gråvejr med tilbagevendende regnbyger og tilstrækkeligt blæsevejr til at genere selv den mest stoiske have-entusiast.

Det ser dog ud til, at landmændene hele tiden har vidst, at denne sommer ville være noget værre møg, og de har været i gang med at høste siden juli. Fordi de plejer at arbejde, når det er tørvejr, falder landmændenes aktiviteter desværre jævnligt sammen med min egne togter ud i haven, og en del af støvet fra mejetærskerne ender – til min forargelse – tit i min rosevin.

Kort sagt kan det danske sommervejr kun forudses til at være uforudseeligt. Den gode nyhed er dog, at ifølge danskerne er efteråret den hyggeligeste årstid, og det betyder, at vi ‘staycationers’ er langt foran, når det kommer til at drikke varm kakao og tage sutskoene på. Så hvis du er en af de heldige, der nåede at tage sydpå til solen denne sommer, så vær ikke overrasket over at finde ud af, at IKEA har solgt ud af stearinlys og tæpper på det tidspunkt, I kommer hjem.