For no reason at all...Oslo, when it's raining

Wasn’t intending to blog at all but the rainy day has made me nostalgic about Oslo. The day I landed there for the first time was also our first wedding anniversary but all that was quite forgotten by the two of us in the excitement of going somewhere as far as Scandinavia!
The Weather Gods were against us right from the time of the short Frankfurt Oslo flight. The plane bobbed in the air, swung back and forth like a tennis ball and finally landed on Scandinavian soil. The closest call of my life! Post landing, I stuttered, pinching myself to see if I was still alive.
It rained on and off for the larger part of the 20 days that I spent there, though this was the beginning of summer (their summer that is). But I loved Oslo in the rains. The streets, trams, the statues, the parks to the bustling waterfront, Aker Brygge, would wear a windswept, drenched, damp look and while the Norwegians muttered and grumbled about bad weather, I strangely, loved it.
It was also very very windy and cold (by my standards) and I would wrap myself in a thick jacket, put on my sneakers and walk and walk and walk.
The previous monsoon had been in Bombay (which I also love in the rains, never mind wading through water at Elphinstone Station), where it can get a bit grimy, though as I write this I can see my all time fave monsoon scene — the waves breaking on to Marine Drive.
But walking through the rains in Oslo was another thing altogether. It was clean. The rain would come and go and I would sit in a VERY EXPENSIVE café (Ok. I'll stop romanticising. Could only afford McDonalds but it had a nice view of the waterfront) and spend a fortune on a small bite, watching a sudden squall break over the water and the clouds at a distance. The rain vanished suddenly in my last few days there but by then I was so used to it that it actually felt weird. As it did to see a bright sky very late at night. It wasn’t as bright when it rained, keeping my desi sense of time almost intact.
I’ve also seen Oslo at its sunniest best, when everyone takes their clothes off, but in my mind, that city is associated with rain. I can see it now, washing the café chairs on Karl Johan Gate, people rushing to cover everything up in their stalls at Youngstorget bazaar and the wind swelling up the sails of some of the boats anchored on Aker Brygge.
And if I imagine a bit, I can still feel that weather it on my face — cold, breezy, with the smell of sea salt and fresh air.