“Arctic blizzards cause travel chaos for millions”
Translation: a short spell of totally predictable seasonal weather causes the thermometer to dip below 0°, the rail “network” to grind to a halt (as opposed to running like clockwork (literally) the rest of the year), cars to be abandoned by the side of ungritted roads and planes to be diverted to places where snow is not a problem (all of Northern Europe). Of course in Britain we get “the wrong type of snow” – a notorious snow balls quote from one of our transport companies a few years back.
The prime minister will don green wellies and a Barbour jacket and reassure the country that “everything that needs to be done will be done” after Googling those towns and villages suffering the most and discovering they’re nowhere near London and probably didn’t vote for the government.
There will be power cuts, people eating each other on stranded trains, schools closing and hordes of unfettered, behooded little darlings running riot. Snow balls will thrown at passing buses, frostbitten fingers will get stuck down the backs of radiators. Pensioners will fall over and shatter. There will be massive conflagrations as a whole new batch of Brits discover fire, sales of brandy and vodka will soar and a Yeti will be spotted somewhere near Watford. Panic buying of toilet rolls will wipe millions of the stock market.
Not since a head grew legs and ran across the floor in “The Thing” will Britain have experienced such isolation and sheer horror….
There will of course be a silver lining. Plumbers will love all the frozen pipes, utility companies will have an excuse to crank up prices, I get to plug one of my snow pictures and above all we Brits get to talk officially about our favourite subject; THE WEATHER!
Me? Cold never bothered me anyway!