I awoke this morning to a winter whitewash, and my first proper day of snow. After Swedish class I trekked through the frozen streets of Malmö, carpets of crisp, white icy snow stretching along footpaths and in gardens, and dirty snow clogging the gutters, the same colour and consistency as frozen coke, hatchback coupes transformed into hunchbacks with mounds of snow fixed upon boots and bonnets.
A group of teenage youths threw a snowball at my leg, then apologised.