The cold sting of rain blew relentlessly on our faces as we trudged down the hill to the bus stop. My son pulled his hood further down over his furrowed brow.
“Isn’t it supposed to be summer?” he muttered, waving one hand generally in the direction of…well everything – the heavy clouds, the buffeting wind, the grey mountain pouring with water.
“It will come,” I offered, half-heartedly.
While European friends have basked in brilliant early summer weather, swum in the sea, barbequed into the long warm evenings, here in Nuuk we have hunkered down inside for what seems like weeks, watching the relentless rain pattering, pouring, drizzling on and on, relieved only by the occassional flurry of wet snow, to be washed away again by yet more rain.
One of my main reservations about moving to Nuuk was the weather. Having been through Nuuk many times before moving to Greenland, my memories seemed to be all of a grey dampness that seeped through the seams of my jacket, the cold pinching uncomfortably at my skin, of grey clouds rolling in endlessly, of weather that delayed the flights we wanted if only to get out of Nuuk and further inland. Only ten kilometres into the fjord, the weather is often markedly better – drier, calmer. The coastal peninsula where Nuuk sits sees the full force of the weather pouring in from the Davis Strait. Did I really want to move to such a place?
So, in general, I have been pleasantly surprised to find that Nuuk did not fulfil my expectations of dismal weather and that here we also, quite often, bask in brilliant sunshine. Even if the temperature is a somewhat cooler version of a European summer, in the single or sometimes low double digit celsius degrees, that suits me just fine and, like other Nuuk residents, I can happily lie dozing in the sun in five degrees and feel that all is right with the world. This week, after weeks of rain, the sun has returned and – to my son also – it feels like summer is finally here. On a brilliant day like today, it’s difficult to imagine or even remember the dreary bleakness of the cold, blowing rain. And when the fog drifts in across the ash grey sea, and the rain settles in once more, the memory of today’s brilliant blue sky and sparkling sea will seem like a distant dream.
