If three days spent freezing my arse off in the tourist mecca of Harlow (just north of London, for those who weren't already aware) had proven anything, it was that I had made a terrible mistake in coming to Europe in late-April, instead of my usual early-June arrival time. On a positive note, however, it had also lowered my expectations with regard to the weather so successfully that anything short of an Atlantic hurricane would be seen as an improvement, whilst giving me the chance to physically acclimatise to temperatures that were a full fifteen degrees lower than what I had been used to. The fact that the temperature hadn't risen much above 10° (and this in the middle of spring, no less) had taken me completely by surprise, particularly given that back in Australia where
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