The rain here is not falling or even pouring. It is constant, pervasive. As you look into the grey mist a hundred metres away in all directions, if you’re lucky, you can make out the merest hint of an angle to signify the way the squally wind is buffeting the maelstrom.

I left work early in order to do some photography this afternoon. With hindsight, of course, this was a silly plan. Even sillier my lack of coat and umbrella today – the thrice-damned weather forecast, of course, promised only drizzle. I wore my heavy-weather trials gear on the half-hour walk to the station, but to my regret I only bothered to take the jacket.

Net result: my upper body is baking hot – the gear is designed for much colder and wetter things than dry land can provide – while my trousers now stick uncomfortably to my legs and drip puddles into my boots.

Next time the weather is bad enough for me to get the foulies out, I must remember to take the trousers, gloves and wellies too. Or a taxi. Maybe I should just remember to take a taxi.