It’s distinctly frigid here. In fact, we’re experiencing the coldest weather in ten years. The temperature in one part of the country got down to -18.3°C last night. That’s colder than Providence, which I think of — some would say unfairly — as the coldest place on Earth.

As I write this, Reykjavík is a full ten degrees warmer than here. Strange, but true.

The rather large pond around the corner on the Sophialaan has frozen over and children have been out there skating for the last couple of days.

Icebreakers are clearing some of the country’s waterways, allowing maritime traffic to continue to move.

300,000 pairs of skates have been sold in the last couple of weeks. Supplies are rapidly selling out. Skate sharpeners are working until after midnight to meet the demand.

The uppermost layer of tarmac on the A6 came loose today, but the MInistry of Traffic and Water can’t repair it until the sub-zero temperatures relent.

Multiple races on the ice have been approved by the skating union and will be ridden over the next couple of days. An Elfstedentocht isn’t quite on the cards just yet, however.

I hope our car will still start. It hasn’t been driven since 20th December. I’ll find out by Saturday.

Eloïse’s playschool was forced to close today, because their boiler had given up the ghost and the building was ice-cold.

Yep, to be sure, it’s cold here.

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