Under the weather

The fall cold is universal.

Days get shorter. The sky gets greyer. The streets get rainier. The temperature drops gradually until you have to stop fooling yourself-there will be no sunny Sundays like the one we had last week until spring.

And then you get sick. Like your friends, colleagues and everyone else on the metro.

As I blow my nose and stare out my 10th-floor window at the heavy grey clouds that have been emptying themselves over Bilbao for days now, I just keep repeating one thing over and over:

"At least it's not snowing..."