I look out of the window at sodden fields and wetness. Here in the UK we're pretty stolid about our British weather. Far be it for me to suggest that foreigners see us as a nation obsessed with nothing but the weather; they ought to stay longer on our shores to attest that we are more obsessed with fair play and justice than we are about bad weather. Because it is the very fact that bad weather is often seen as everything besides sunshine.

My early career in the 1960's living in London caused me to rub shoulders with the capital's visitors. No finer people in the world were the Americans traversing the ancient streets under umbrellars where once Shakespeare, Walter Raleigh and other infamous relics of history trod. The London underground railway - the Tube, and (before decimalisation) the British currency caused holidaymakers more angst than anything else. I've taken burly Bronx guys, hand-led from Holborn to Picadilly (blue, Picadilly Line) so that they did not get lost. And ensured that Texan's selected the correct coinage so that they didn't feel cheated. Heaven forbid!

So it's comforting to realise that forty years on our North American buddies are still perplexed with all things British, including the weather and cannot fathom out much more than their earlier cousins. Does nothing change? Well not the weather! To me an Englishman, rain is a glorious pastime. Estimating when it will end, but not really bothered one way or another. The aspect of dampness, even torrential rain only strengthens my delight in observing our island decked in glorious green. Observing others dashing about, sheltering under objects raised over heads, blistering over the inconvenience. Shame. Is it not a fact that street mugging declines when it pours with rain. I guess the muggers even get pissed off with it enough to call a halt...

As a kindly US couple in 1969 said to me after I had walked them to the British Museum in fine drizzle, "Thank you, we would surely not have found it without you, we'd probably gotten lost. Incidentally, we were in Oxford yesterday and couldn't believe how wonderfully green the countryside is. You English are so polite, even with all this rain". Of course I obligingly took their photograph on their expensive Japanese Nikon camera, handing it back with envy. I thanked them, praising the USA for landing on the moon and the magnificent photographs taken with a Swedish Hassleblad and headed back to work. Incidentally, the British Museum is not difficult to find, a child could do it in a matter of minutes. What really delights me about Americans is that they love to tell people stuff, and if that's how great Britain is, that's fine by me.

A few weeks later I'd bought a secondhand Pentax SLR, and began my love affair with photography.