I am -literally- counting the days to go home. I have been away for so long, that I have lost count of the weeks, and that I can’t figure out wether it is either spring or autumn, wether we are going towards summer or winter. It is a strange feeling. I have lost the North. I do remember vaguely that I couldn’t get away from the BA heat soon enough, that the heat was killing me, too much sweat for doing nothing. I longed to put on a coat. Various coats if necessary. Warm sweaters. Hats. Gloves. The dark and gloomy days. It all appealed to me like never before. I hadn’t had winter in over 6 years. What is winter, anyway?

I came to the right place. The northern hemisphere has been quite chilly this year. Finally wearing my more then 6 year old winter coats that are of no use in Buenos Aires, and all the other things I had longed for. How I enjoyed that! Various friends had pleasure in asking me ‘Cold enough for you?’. I couldn’t have been more excited! And as my mom always says ‘one can always dress to the cold’. But really, can one?

While walking in NYC with 2 sweaters and 2 coats, gloves and hat borrowed from my daughter, walking slowly, because my muscles were all sore of the cold, when at the same time my daughter who -in my eyes- hardly had any clothes on, said to me : ‘Mom! It is not cold AT ALL’, I realized I’ve had enough of winter and need to pack up my things and go southwards again. I have stayed up north for too long. I need to go home.

It really is time for spring. I see it in the people’s eyes. Especially when it is a spring-like day. With every ray of sun people go out and sit on terraces, out of the (still) cold wind, with heatings to stop them from freezing to death. They call it ‘terrasjesweer’ (terrace weather). The first rays of sun are coming, the first easter flowers are out, but to me, it is still a long way to nice warm weather.

Just as much as the summer in BA is too hot and too long, the winter in Belgium is too dark, too gloomy and too long. As a tourist escaping from the heat, I seem to be the only one enjoying it, knowing it is only temporary and my choice.

So I go south, to spring. Oh no, right, to autumn. But well, Argentine autumn is my favorite season.

(photo : Belgian spring day, people on the beach, 8°C)