“ London weather has a narrative quality. It provides pathetic fallacy on tap. A romantic disappointment feels right in the drizzle. A moment of joy is heightened by a sudden sunbeam. Filmmakers use it as shorthand: grey for gritty realism, rain for tragedy, golden hour for love. We live inside a constantly shifting mood board. A Monday feels grey because it is, literally, grey. A Saturday adventure feels more adventurous if it involves battling a gusty wind on Waterloo Bridge. Our internal stories are constantly being scored and set-dressed by the atmosphere, making our lives feel vaguely cinematic, even if the genre is often "tragicomedy." See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK. ”