Winter is the season of opposites. It's the season of drinking and eating endlessly during Christmas and the season of dry and vegan January. The season where you barely see people's faces in the street -hidden behind all of those layers and scarfs- and the season of walking barely naked around the house because the central heating is way too high. It's the season of pink noses and lempsis and more pink noses and lempsis. Maybe winter isn't about opposites after all.
The snow has barely hit London yet but you can feel it looming over us. The air is cold and dry and you can see the vapour/trail of your breath during the sunny mornings. There is nothing I crave more during winter than a nice hot curry and a trip somewhere warm. Maybe I could join all the Brits heading to the Canary Islands and buy myself a ticket to Lanzarote. I get it now.