“Off to the Caribbean eh? What kind of excuse for research is that, sitting on a beach all day?” was a typical comment when I informed people about my plans. Sadly, they couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Unknown to some, the Dominican Republic has some bloomin’ great muckle* mountains, and I live on top of one of them. This particular mountain seems to catch everything the Atlantic can through at it. I am surrounded by what is technically known as montane cloud forest, which means that it is located at precisely the attitude at which moist air coming in from the Atlantic, and forced to rise over the mountains, condenses into semi-permanent rain clouds. Combining this general soggyness with the cold of being at 1200m altitude and it is not that pleasant a place to be. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I would rather have Manchester’s climate. Since I returned here almost two weeks ago from my brief sojourn in sunny Santo Domingo, it has rained for at least 12 hours every day, but nearer 18. That is not a typo.

The quantity and quality of the rain are both impressive. Firstly, it is near permanent, and secondly it ranges in intensity between drizzle that is irritating but relatively harmless to rain that comes down so hard that it stings. Any brief ray of sunshine is just an opportunity to better survey the mud ridden landscape before it is obscured again by dark rainclouds and bucketloads of water falling from the sky. It is truly miserable, worse than Glasgow. The roads have turned into something that reminds me of my time at Glastonbury. One architectural flaw has been revealed in this – all the roofs here are made of corrugated iron. When it rains here, the sound is like a symphony for timpani, a loud and constant crash. I am frequently kept awake at night by the sound of rain on the roof. Of course, that is when I am not woken up shivering by the freezing cold temperatures. It may be in the Caribbean, but it snows in the mountains near here. The lack of sunshine means that the mist chills you to the bone, and I have spent the last week wearing two jumpers, having forgot to bring my winter coat to the Caribbean.

It is truly miserable weather in the Caribbean.

My neighbours are all a bit morose, sitting around because they can’t work. They can’t harvest because the crops rot if collected wet, and they can’t apply fertiliser or such because the rain would wash it away. They can’t go and do other stuff, because that would involve getting wet, and we can’t be having that. It is part decent excuse, and part procrastination technique. And dear reader, it is one in which I am also participating.

(*muckle – particularly braw** Scottish adjective for large)
(**braw – Scottish word for fantastic)