Château Lagrange Vertical, 2016
I had packed carefully for my trip, but peering from the window of my room at Château Lagrange I soon realised there was one item I needed which I hadn’t thought to throw in my bag. The sky had been a little on the grey side all day, and the temperatures cool, so it hadn’t come as any great surprise when I felt the first few drops of rain. What had surprised me was the intensity and persistence of the downpour. The trees in the distance soon disappearing behind a grey and hazy curtain of rain, and there was no sign it would be letting up any time soon.
I quite like the rain. As a teenager I used to walk to school each day, a short six- or seven minute stroll. It was uphill most of the way, and as I reached the crest of the hill the wind would whip in off the Irish Sea (this was on the Isle of Man), sometimes cutting to the bone. I hated the wind. Rain, however, I didn’t mind. It was rarely heavy enough to cause much trouble, unless it was a particularly impressive downpour. Such occasions were rare, for which I was grateful, as in a draughty and barely-heated school building it usually took the best part of double-physics followed by double-chemistry to dry out.
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