Greyness that looks soft but is cold like frozen iron to the touch. And exhaustion.
Those are the characteristics of this time of the year, when you don't know if you dare hope for spring yet. The end of winter, but what an interminable end.
That's when you should go to a Thai restaurant. With soft lamps in all the windows, a smell of hot spices, colours that are a bit too garish and a Buddha staring at you. A refreshingly un-Finnish welcome.
In fact, I welcome anything un-Finnish this time of the year. Thai restaurants. Irish pubs. Portuguese wine. Kenyan coffee. Israeli oranges. Swedish music. American movies. Polish door-to-door vendors. Nigerian scam letters. Dutch courage. Spanish lullabies. French kisses.
(I draw the line at Brazilian waxes.)
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