Looking for incredible weather news? Here you go. Winter started in northern Sweden on August 21st. No, it did - really.
That is if you take as a measure my first sighting of a woolly hat and gloves on a man walking a dog in our local town. As I drove by in my shorts and t-shirt, I couldn't help but do a cartoonish double take. The temperature on my car's thermometer read a reasonable 14 degrees Celsius. What on earth was going on?
Skip ahead three weeks to September, and autumn arrived, ushering in mild, rainy weather. During this time, a delivery driver pulled up to our driveway to drop off a freezer.
He hopped out, replete with earmuffs and gloves and just stared at me, still in my shorts and t-shirt, his eyes bulging as if I’d come out to greet him in a rubber gimp suit.
After his shock faded, we exchanged a few words.
– You're from England, right? Why did you come here? he asked.
I told him how I loved the area’s natural beauty and the joy of experiencing a winter without constant rain, a stark contrast to the perpetually damp winters of the UK. But his response was unexpected.
– It's already so cold here. I actually prefer the rain to all the snow we get, he shivered.
As I helped him haul the freezer into our cellar, he suddenly noticed that our house overlooked a 3km-wide lake. His enthusiasm briefly returned as he exclaimed:
– What an amazing view!
Then, a sudden change overcame him, as if an icy gust had passed through his soul. He rubbed his jacket-encased arm and muttered:
– But in winter, the wind across that lake: soooo coooold.
He hurriedly retreated to the warmth of his van. I glanced at our wall-mounted thermometer, which displayed 12 degrees Celsius.
During a dinner gathering in late September, Swedish female guests were reluctant to use the bathroom because the radiator wasn't working. Though the rest of the house remained cozy, they couldn't fathom a porcelain interaction in anything less than tropical heat. I even offered them tea towels to place on the toilet seat, but they declined and grew increasingly uncomfortable as the evening wore on.
I'm genuinely puzzled. Why are northern Swedes so averse to the cold? Given the harsh climate, you'd think they'd have developed a tolerance for icy temperatures.
But, as always, I have a theory. Many northern Swedish homes are very hot in winter - somewhere around 23-24 Celsius. In the UK I was used to 19-20 Celsius. Swedish friends often complain that English houses are too cold during winter, while we think theirs are too hot.
So, if you step out of your toasty-hot Swedish home into significantly colder outdoor temperatures, it's no wonder you feel freezing and start togging up as if embarking on an expedition to the Arctic rather than just taking Doris the dog for a walk.
I have another theory for why many Swedish homes are so hot.
Only wealthy individuals in the mid-20th century could afford to heat their entire homes during winter. Back in those bad old days, I know some northern families even used to sleep together in one room to keep warm.
As prosperity spread across Norrland, having a very warm home became a symbol of the good life.
Of course, the warmer your house is, the colder the outside world seems, so the earlier in the year you start wearing winter clothing.
It all makes sense to me, but if anyone has a less plucked-from-thin-air explanation for why northern Swedish homes are so warm during winter, please do email me. That's if you can type with those gloves on.
This text is a column and the opinions are the writers own. It was originally published at norran.se/english, Norran's English website.