We have a hundred words to describe rain in Ireland, it’s part of our everyday and dictates more of our lives than any of us would care to admit. These last few weeks in sunny Dublin have seen most of us spend more time outside than we would in the rest of the year. Outdoor cinemas, festivals and general hanging about in the sun make everyone so much happier. Tanned or no, everything looks better in the sun.
When we went to Cuba in October, it was the height of hurricane season, highest average rainfall, blah blah blah. Screw it, knowing we had a long summer ahead, we weren’t waiting any longer. Turned out that it did rain a small bit but mostly we saw gorgeous sunshine, spectacular sunsets and clouds you could eat with a spoon. Heavenly.
Towards the end of our trip, our second last beach day, we were in Trinidad. It had been glorious the last few days but it was kind of cloudy and looked like it might rain. We went to the beach anyway, might as well, right? We hedged our bets and booked the car. It was cloudy but just being by the beach was enough for us, so much sand, so little time.
Then it started raining. Pouring. Bucketing down. We ran for cover and got our bags out of the way. We look at the sea, look at the rain and then María looks at me – what are we waiting for? We’re not made of sugar, we’re getting wet either way. GO!
We ran and dived. The salty Caribbean Sea was so perfectly warm. The rain pelted us. Cold and fresh, warm and salty. The sea got busy again and no sunshine could have made it better. I stood with my arms up, I turned my palms and face up to the glorious, gorgeous rain. I washed the salt from my eyes and drank the freshness. I dived again and lazed on my back listening to the huge drops hit the surface of the water and my face. Every inch of skin was alive with sensation. Every bit of me was alive.
We grow up being told to stay out of the rain. You’ll get drenched, you’ll catch a cold, you’ll get sick, blah, blah, blah.
Next time you’re at the beach in the rain, don’t go home.