For the past four days in Utrecht, it will rain-- and by rain I mean POUR-- in twenty minute intervals.  I kid you not. The British man sitting next to me at the coffee shop yesterday said it was "proper rain". Proper my a** (the word rhymes with pass). It's as if the sky is having an emotional breakdown and every twenty minutes remembers it is really sad and starts crying, composes itself, and then is set off again by some emotional trigger. Like, get over yourself sky. Its getting old.