It's Snow Joking Matter

London Fields # 74
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 28 January 2010
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

Maybe with the recent excesses of a record-breaking heat wave, it may have been tempting to want to swap places with the denizens of the UK, who were moaning about a bit of a cold snap with a little snow. While it may not have been the Snowmageddon portrayed in the tabloids (with the Express claiming it proved global warming wrong), it wasn’t much fun either. For weeks, it kept all other news at bay. The attempt to overthrow Prime Minister Gordon Brown in an election year became a lesser news item, as the weather a story that in some way affected everyone in the country, even if it wasn’t really news at all. On the ‘worst’ day there were reports that less than 50% of employees had even made it into work. With the British economy already struggling, this kind of loss is the last thing it needs.

The heavy snows last February also saw the whole capital ground to a standstill, unable to cope with the wrong type of rain. There was outcry; questions were asked and promises made that London wouldn’t be caught unaware again. Yet when it did recur it was as though no lessons had been learned at all. As then, there was the grit shortage. When I first arrived in the UK, I was mystified by the large yellow bins labelled Salt-Grit. Mistaking it for a rubbish bin, I tried to put my chocolate wrapper in it, but it will filled with what turned out to be rock salt, which is used to break down ice and snow on footpaths. The trouble was there was a shortage of this, so widespread gritting didn’t really seem to happen, making smaller roads impassable.

Obviously the death toll amongst the elderly rises in cold weather, but reports placed the demise of around 20 people directly at the conditions themselves. Sadly there’s no equivalent of a warm change to bring relief either. While the snow may have caused problems, the real threat was what came next. Because as snow is walked upon it melts a little and then refreezes - as ice. And if snow can be a bit heavy going, ice is impossible. Casualty departments were filled with people who had fallen. Supplies of shoe cleats to give you some grip on the treacherous surfaces were quickly depleted, with no more deliveries expected until April.

Other cities in Europe get snow every year, and they don’t grind to a halt. So why is the UK in particular so blighted when these ever-more-frequent ‘unseasonal’ conditions hit? Here’s a clue. European houses not only tend to have snow shovels, they use them too. Not just their own entrance, and the footpath outside them as well. Meanwhile here in the UK it’s a widely held belief that if you clear a path and then someone slips on it, you can be held legally accountable. Regardless of the veracity of that, the thought has stuck and so people are reticent to act for fear of possible lawsuits.

One paper ran a story about the new-found popularity of encyclopædias and other large reference works from local opshops. But it wasn’t in a quest for knowledge. In 1953, Ray Bradbury wrote of a dystopian possible future where the prevalence of television has led to an unthinking society. The role of firemen was to burn books, as the knowledge they contained only made the populace harder to handle and keep sedate. The reality is perhaps more terrifying. For the books from the Salvos were destined for fireplaces of struggling pensioners - their combustion being the only affordable way to keep warm. They’re cheaper than a bag of coal, and much, much cheaper than running a boiler.

In the thaw the cost is still being counted. The rare species of birds that came into the cities and suburban gardens seeking food have now departed, and shops have stocks of salt and kitty litter once more. Dreams of White Christmases are now seen as nightmares. The snowfall was the worst in 30 years, and now it’s the roads that are in a real state. Some are so bad that buses, which were unable to run during the snow, are again sitting in the depot, as the potholes will cause too much damage to allow them to run safely.

So next time you’re cursing the heat, and wishing it were much, much colder, perhaps think again for a minute. As soon as the initial adventure and excitement fades, any extreme is just a pain in the arse.


© James McGalliard 2010