Well, day one of the killer solar apocalypse is over and I’ve managed to cling on to life against all the odds.
According to the Met Office and other experts the temperatures getting up to the same sort of level that holidaymakers inexplicably survive in their millions every year is going to be a killer with particular groups at risk including the young and old, active and inactive, healthy and unhealthy, fat and thin, gingers and depending on your religious persuasion, gays.
Despite ticking several of those boxes and the Daily Express suggesting I’m little more than a walking corpse, I took my life into my own hands and ventured outside a couple of times yesterday. I’m still here to type about it so I made it through day one of the killer heatwave; only time will tell if I survive to the weekend.
In the meantime, here’s a gratuitous tabloid picture of some young ladies sunbathing in a park to remind you the sun’s shining.
I am currently looking out of the window at the cloudy sky and the rain that is falling on the tropical hell-hole that is the North-Kent/London border.
I can only think back in horror at to the unbearable torture of yesterday, when my usual forty minute bus journey took an hour and a quarter – Usually I would catch one bus but yesterday I had to catch three because two of them broke down mid-journey due to the heat.
Personally I don’t mind the heat, I don’t mind the extra time the journey took, I even think that it’s funny that we don’t seem to be able to build a bus that can withstand temperatures above or below an certain narrow margin. I did however, just have a conversation with someone who was moaning that it was raining, when only twenty four hours earlier she was moaning that “sun was too hot”.
That’s what I love about this country, we don’t have a climate, we have weather – and moaning about it brings us together.