Irish mist

Jeepers it was cold today.
I have lived in colder climates. In places were cold means well in the minuses (spelling?). Where the first few breaths of icy cold air on the doorstep in the morning give you the "burn that wakes".
The Irish cold is different. Much more devious, much more insiduous.
In terms of thermometer reading, it is nothing to get too excited about.
Rarely goes below -5 C really.
But an Irish -5 feels like an anywhere else (except Scotland perhaps) -25.
It's not a good old straightforward crisp dry cold, oh no. Where you feel like taking your axe with you on a forest walk and chop down trees to keep warm, while the wife bakes apple tarts (I watched too much Little House in Prairie in my formative years, I know).
Here the cold is damp, miserable, and would make the eyes of a US immigration officer seem warm and welcoming.
No clothing will keep it at bay. That cold damp will penetrate through the best winter gear and make the idea of karaoke bars in the Canary Islands seem bearable.

This is a shot of the Luca during today's cliff walk, bathed in freezing mist.
For those wondering, the cliff edge is to the left, not right ahead ;-D