Uncanny patterns - everywhere you go, you take the weather with you!

"Weather with you", the song by Crowded House, certainly resonates with me. I averr its not my fault, but how often must coincidence take place before you begin to wonder? The first time I ever went abroad was in November 2005, at the age of 22, having never even been to an airport prior to this. My group went to Orlando, Florida, for a fortnight. The warm weather had remained unseasonably present for a few weeks longer so it was "nice warm and dry" rather than too humid hot and rainy. The next year, I went to Malta for a week with a friend - an unusually protracted heatwave began the saturday our plane landed and ended the day after we flew home, meaning we had a week of glorious sunshine. The year after that, I went to Cyprus for a week, and watched nightly weather of the invisible line bisecting the Med - everything left was enduring rain and storms, everything right (including Cyprus) basked in an unusually high heatwave that ended two days after we flew home. Then there was the 3 day mini-cruise down the Norwegian coast - the first night out there was an unusually choppy windstorm at sea, but the next day when we disembarked the weather was a rare warm sunny day that became stormy shortly after our ship left. Then there was the 7-day coach holiday to Venice - unseasonable intense heatwave. In 2001, I was flying into Indonesia when an unexpected (but fortunately minor) cyclone hit. On the same trip, we hit New Zealand in March (their winter) only to find the SOuth Island afflicted by an unseasonal heatwave. Then there was February 2003, when after 8 years of mild winters, I visited my cousin in Maryland for two weeks and 1 week in, starting on the Sunday, the worst winter storm front in a century (98 years to be exact) hit the east coast from New York (where I was) to Washington DC (where I needed to get back to). Funnily enough, the airports only reopened in DC 12 hours before I was due to leave, but my flight was on time. Then there was my trip to Iceland in OCtober 2009. I'd barely got to the hotel when there was a very, very minor earthquake of no account. But the tour the next day took us past a glacier where you could see a dull orange blob glowing and see smoke and steam rising as the volcano began to flex it's muscles. Now, three years after my last holiday, I returned to Iceland in May 2012, and on the Sunday as my plane flew out Monday, the capital Rejykavik was hit by an Atlantic windstorm - gusts of over 100mph - that every Icelander I spoke to said was extremely rare for the time of year. What's more, I think this unusual incidence of weather events is hereditary. For years, my dad has often been accused of being a secret sun worshipper due to his fortuitous habit of always having "decent" weather when he goes on holiday - it's not always wall to wall sunshine, but it's never been the relentlessly miserable downpouring of rain, gales and bad weather that some have experienced. Time and again we've been to places where I've heard locals explain that the previous week the weather was "appalling" but suddenly changed the day before, or on, or after we arrived. We leave, and the weather reverts. It even held true in Spain in the late 90s, early 00s, as you could guarantee our family would reach the villa and "unseasonable" heatwaves would start that made my dad very popular with the sun-loving members of our family.