The Weather or: An Overly Dramatic Account of Not Wearing a Jacket
No matter the time of year, there is a universal truth about life in The Hague: never leave home without a jacket.
Early in the morning, the sun may be shining through the windows, unobstructed by even the faintest fluff of cloud cover, warming the room to a balmy 70 degrees. But, this is all a clever ruse, designed to lull the unaware into a false sense of security. The windows block the sharp, bracing truth of a brisk wind, cutting in from the North Sea.
Waltzing downstairs, excited by the prospect of a morning jaunt in the sun, the most important article of clothing remains hanging on a coat hook right by the door. Sunglasses on, headphones in and blasting an upbeat 90's playlist fit for the wonderful morning, its easy to not notice that everyone else leaving the building remembered the truth: no matter how wonderful the siren song of the sun seems while indoors, never give in.
As soon as the sliding glass doors open, the cold reality sets in. First, disappointment. How could the sun be so cruel? Then, the fateful "its not that bad, I don't need to go back for a jacket," a foolish idea rooted in stubbornness. Walking out of the building complex, around the corner and down Stationsweg, the chilling wind has its effect. Shoulders hunch forward into the wind, hands take refuge in pockets, and each gust of wind reinforces what everyone else knows: never leave home without a jacket.