I don’t know if it rains more consistently in damp Britannia than in any other country of the world, but it certainly feels like it.
Rain clouds seem to be constantly lurking on the periphery of the sky, ready to pounce with a change in the wind and dowse us with their soddening goodness, even during the sunniest of summer days; or maybe that’s just how I picture it having been born and raised in the never-ending monsoon that is Manchester.
