Why Living in Johannesburg Suddenly Feels Like I Moved to London

This weekend, the weather around the world behaved like it was auditioning for a global drama series. Johannesburg, Paris, and London all showed off their personalities — and honestly, I’m not sure who won the award for Most Confusing Forecast.

Johannesburg: The Summer That Forgot It Was Summer

Johannesburg started the weekend warm and bright on Friday, like it remembered it was supposed to be sunny.
Then Saturday softened a bit…
And Sunday?
Sunday said, “Nope. I’m tired,” and dropped the temperature like a grumpy toddler dropping toys.

By Monday, Jo’burg was kind of okay again, but after Sunday’s cold mood swing, I felt like packing my bags for the UK.

But here’s the twist:
I didn’t need to move to London…
The London weather came to me!

Paris: Calm, Cool, and a Little Moody

Paris did its usual November thing:
A little warm, a little cool, a little cloud, a little “I’m-too-stylish-to-rain-but-don’t-test-me.”

Honestly, Paris felt like the adult in the room. Calm. Collected. Slightly dramatic, but in an elegant way.

London: Cloudy, Cold, and Proud of It

London, of course, stayed true to itself.
Cloudy? Yes.
Chilly? Absolutely.
A little gloomy? Of course — it’s a lifestyle.
If London had a slogan this weekend, it would be:
“We don’t do sunshine. We do vibes.”

And somehow…
Johannesburg copied the London weather report word for word on Sunday.
Suddenly I was sitting in my house in South Africa, wrapped in a blanket, drinking warm tea like I lived two streets down from Big Ben.

Meanwhile… Rugby Was Absolute Chaos

While the weather was emotionally unstable, the rugby was even worse.

I watched match after match, movie after movie, and between warm drinks and cold weather, I felt like a true Londoner living the ultimate autumn weekend…

Except for all the yellow and red cards.
So. Many. Cards.
At one point I wondered if the referee forgot he wasn’t dealing Uno cards.
Players were being sent off like they said the wrong password at the gate.

I was wrapped up in my blanket, shouting,
“REF! THIS ISN’T A TRAFFIC LIGHT!”
But he kept going.
Yellow. Red. Yellow again.
It was a colourful disaster.

The Full Weekend Vibe

So there I was:

• Weather pretending I live in London
• Movies playing
• Rugby chaos exploding with more cards than a greeting-card shop
• Me drinking tea and asking myself,
  “At what point do I start saying ‘bloody hell’ unironically?”

Honestly, if it rains next weekend, I’m buying a trench coat and calling myself a local.

Can I give a red card to the weatherman?