Less is not necessary best!

As I travel up through the endless mountains to Bangor from the big smoke I thought this would be a good as time as any to write my next blog! If any one has ever done the journey from London to Bangor or from Cardiff to Bangor you will know what I mean about the torturous journey through either the Welsh mountains or the English countryside. A journey that feels like it will never end. So any opportunity to waste some time is seized upon.

My blog this week has been inspired by the return of the good weather. The sun seems to bring out the best in most people. I say most because there are still some grumpy sods around. Man on tube, please do not tut and sigh at me again for wanting to keep my personal space and to avoid being squashed into another man's sweaty armpit. Next time I will push you into the stench of body odour and see how you like it.

Any way moving away from the thought of BO, as soon as the sun comes out we automatically get the shorts on and shades out. It doesn't have to be that warm but that is not the point. If the sun shines then it seems a matter of principle that we replace the ugg boots with a good old pair of flip flops and give the pasty white toes some freedom for another six months. Even if it is only the beginning of April!

What I have noticed over the last few days is people do dare to bare! Sometimes ladies and gents this is not the way forward and less is not necessary best!

Prime example, I was sitting on the tube and there was a rather large (ok I am being polite he was massive) gentleman pushing his way on to the tube. He looked like he hadn't seen the sun for over a decade because their were patches of him that were as white as me.*
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*Now I am pale. We're talking milk bottle white. People comfort me with the saying English rose (welsh rose more so)… but my family say I give casper the friendly ghost a run for his money in paleness. I am one of those people who go a lovely shade of lobster red and then back to my pasty self. Not a sprinkling of a golden tan. I have accepted that am never going to be a golden goddess (much to my disappointment) and I embrace the old school victorian pastiness!. ( and when I do get desperate, a good old bottle of St Tropez seems to do the trick! granted I get the streaks and the orange tan lines seem a bit excessive but some times it's better than the glare of whiteness that my legs radiate)

So as I was saying, the man got on, and was literally daring to bare. He had his belly hanging over his shorts with patches of burnt skin and his t-shirt in his hands. Now It's April, firstly it is not that hot and secondly please don't subject me to this. As much as I like this weather, I don't like to be grossed out. So different man on tube, keep your t-shirt on and spare us the explicit scenes so we can all enjoy the weather without voming up our first ice cream of the year.