Story Wednesday: Being snowed in a pub is a desirable thing!

Every Wednesday I’m digging in my shoebox of blurry photographs or flick through digital libraries in search for an exceptional story that’s not yet received the attention it deserves. Story Wednesday aims to inspire your search for the kind of unique moments that can make our daily routines so exciting. Strive for them, have a close look at what’s surrounding you, otherwise you may not see that child’s smile in the train, a strikingly interesting magazine article or a charming stranger in your favorite café. It’s worth it!

I’m not exactly sure whose idea it was – when I spent my first Christmas in England a couple of years ago, my friend’s family took me to the countryside to a massive hill somewhere north of Birmingham. After having sat in the car for the entire morning and extensively singing along to Abba, we had so much fun sliding, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing at all the effort it took to move through this high precious powder.

Sounds brilliant, doesn’t it!? When it got a little dark outside, we were suddenly realising that it would take around three hours to get home and it had started to snow heavily again. What we did was to lock ourselves in the cosy pub that happened to be on the other side of the hill and wait until it was safe again to drive home… There aren’t many things that compare to holding a hot tea in your hands while watching the windows getting more and more icier especially. As there was only a handful of people entering the pub afterwards  – unsurprisingly -, we felt like we were the only people left on this planet… Those little snippets make it a little easier to embrace the cold temperatures outside, doesn’t it? No, not really… sorry.

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