Ah, the British weather.

That most unpredictable of national talking points. We complain when it’s cold, we panic when it’s hot, and we still can’t leave the house without “just in case” layers.

And yet, we love it. Or at least, we love talking about it.

From spontaneous mini heatwaves to hail in July, the UK weather system is a meteorological mystery wrapped in a drizzle. And nowhere does this constant flux play out more dramatically than when you’ve just lit a cigar.

Sunny, with a chance of regret

There’s a moment many Charatan fans will know well: that fleeting window of perfect smoking weather. The clouds part. The sun makes a confident appearance. You seize the moment, step outside with a Charatan Claro and your finest optimism.

And just as you settle in, a wind picks up, the air cools, and the clouds regroup like they've got unfinished business. One minute it’s as sunny as Estelí, the next it’s back to East London drizzle. 

To understand this national chaos, we need to talk about geography.

The UK sits at the intersection of multiple air masses – polar maritime, tropical continental, arctic maritime, and more. We’re essentially the meteorological meeting point of hot air from the south, cold air from the north, and just about everything in between.

The Atlantic Ocean plays a starring role, too.

The jet stream (fast-flowing air high above our heads) wobbles like an indecisive picnic guest, dragging in everything from Mediterranean warmth to Icelandic gloom, often within the same 24 hours. This is why our forecasts sound more like suggestions.

In short: we’re surrounded by competing climates, and the weather simply can’t make up its mind which to adopt.

When the forecast lies (again)

We’ve all been there. The forecast says sun, so you head to the pub beer garden, cigar cutter in one hand, pint in the other, only to watch a rogue cloud roll in like it’s got a personal vendetta.

You scramble for cover under a parasol (or a very damp Union Jack umbrella that’s seen better days), clutching your Charatan Half Churchill, praying the breeze doesn’t turn into a full gale. And yet, it’s oddly British to carry on regardless. One brave soul always insists, “It’ll pass in a minute.” And sometimes, miraculously, it does.

Few nations talk about the weather quite like we do. It’s the first thing we mention in small talk, the last thing we moan about before bed, and a constant source of polite outrage. That’s why it’s no surprise that the wonderfully accurate @verybritishproblemsofficial regularly captures our collective weather woes. From “dressed for every season at once” to “standing in the sun while it rains,” we see ourselves in every post.

We have four seasons, they say. But do we?

Let's get right to it with these shots from our very own Carlos Zuniga's camera roll:

Summer: A rollercoaster of hope and betrayal

Every year, around mid-June, hope begins to bloom. The Met Office issues what it often calls early signs of settled conditions. We dare to dream. Out come the barbecues, the linen shirts and the cans of Thatchers Cider. You set up the garden chair, choose a mellow Charatan Colorado, and pretend you’re on the Amalfi Coast.

And then… snap. Rain. Just as you’ve lit up. You go from Mediterranean leisure to frantic furniture rescue in a matter of seconds, half a cigar in hand, hair clinging to your forehead, wondering why you didn’t just smoke by the kitchen extractor fan like a sensible person.

Autumn: Golden leaves and sudden hail

Of course, British autumn is the most beautiful liar of all. It lures you in with crisp mornings, golden leaves and perfect walking conditions. You pack your coat, grab a pouch of Charatan pipe tobacco and head to the park with visions of cinematic bliss.

Halfway round the lake? Torrential rain. No cover. Dog walkers with looks of betrayal. And you, holding a now very soggy pipe.

Still, if you manage to find a bench, a break in the clouds and a thermos full of piping hot Bovril, there are few pleasures greater than pipe smoke curling through autumn air, as the trees give their last dramatic performance.

Winter: Wind-proof lighters and steely resolve

Winter smokers are a breed apart. You’ve layered up like a hiker, checked for wind direction and selected your sturdiest Maduro robusto for its strong draw and rich, warming flavour. There’s something defiant about smoking outside when the mercury’s near zero. You feel it in your fingertips, but also in your soul. You’ve committed.

Is your moustache slowly freezing? Possibly. Are your friends staring from the pub window with mild concern? Probably. But you’re out there. That’s dedication. And yes, you should absolutely treat yourself to a dram or two afterwards.

Spring: Green shoots and false starts

Spring in Britain is a strange time. You’ll get three solid days of sunshine, cherry blossoms and sudden optimism. You think, “Surely now, the worst is over.” You light up a Charatan, maybe even sit out without a jacket. And then it snows. In April. For no reason whatsoever.

Still, by the time May arrives, there's a genuine sense of lift. You rediscover the garden, dust off the ashtray, and make plans for outdoor smoking that, this time, you’re sure won’t be rained off. Right?

Don’t forget your umbrella

If there’s one piece of advice for us to share, it’s that you should always carry a brolly if you live in the UK. Fox Umbrellas is a particularly elegant brand, plus Davidoff London is famous for selling umbrellas at its opulent shop at 35 St James’s Street. 

Having said that, many Brits choose not to carry an umbrella at all. Some will simply shrug off a biblical deluge as “just a light shower” and remark on how it’s “lovely weather for ducks”. 

Whatever the case, as long as you can find a dry spot to light up a Charatan, it’s clear skies ahead.