It is exactly as climate scientists predicted, I think to myself, as I cycle unfashionably through West Norwood in the rain. A month’s worth of precipitation in a single day, much of it landing on me and gradually soaking through my cagoule.

Global warming sounded better than this. Secretly a part of me thought that obviously going to be sad to lose Deptford and East Anglia, but hello bikinis and vineyards. Typical that the small print of global warming makes Britain wetter, and we'll probably get more polar vortices too.

Not that the rain is new. We live on a lump of rock in the Atlantic, after all.

Broadly speaking, UK cyclists have developed two schools of thought when it comes to staying dry on a bicycle. The first, is that you should completely ignore the rain; you should shun mudguards, capes, and overshoes, and be proud of the stripe of spray up your back.

I'm not in this group. I think that you should wear the right clothes. I cycle all year round, for transport. So being wet upon arrival at work isn't an option.

But riding dry is harder than it looks. There are two enemies, the rain and the sweat. Both are equally damp, but in slightly different ways. Taken together, they provide a powerful reason as to why people use cars as a raincoat.

I’ve embraced technical clothing in recent years, at the expense of fashion, in a way that would make my younger self walk a few paces behind in shame. I read reviews, and look at the ratings. To my wife's horror, I will happily discuss Hydrostatic Head Ratings in public: that's how waterproof something is.

(To be officially waterproof, not water resistant, look for a 1500 mm rating. It's a measurement of the rate at which water seeps though fabric under pressure. In my opinion, you want to be packing at least 20k on a winter commute. But then you're into the breathability rating issue, measured in g/m². It's explained by Cycling Weekly, here)

The thing is, I can’t afford to maintain my habit. Not a habit made of Gore Tex ®, although that goes on the idea pad. The jacket I want costs £350 which, which reflects its Scandinavian heritage and evidence-based science which has gone into its design.

I can just about afford to keep the lad dry. Although as you can see, we buy clothes which are a couple of years too big for him into which he’ll one day grow.

(Which is a roundabout way of saying, I'm open to somebody sending me a new waterproof jacket. I may one day become an influencer.)

I should add that in Japan there is a third group of people with their own attitude towards riding in the rain: people who cycle with umbrellas, even though this is against Japanese traffic laws. I love this fact. When I took the above picture in Tokyo, I didn't realise I was capturing an illegal act.

"Water is such an integral part of Britain, its wealth and landscape, and yet we still fear it, hide from it, even though we have the ability to embrace moisture as previous generations couldn’t, what with modern waterproof fibres.

You don’t have to risk pneumonia and possible death by wandering on the rainy moors in the style of a Bronte heroine any more. You can nip out onto the tops in your waterproof jacket, stay more or less dry, and then have a nice warm bath when you get back, without any fuss. A whole gothic novel plot device has evaporated.”

the Bicycle Clip Diaries