We’re having a heatwave here in the UK. It could be argued that we’re actually just having a summer (it’s been so long none of us can remember what summer is like) but apparently is really is a heatwave. We’re not really equipped for extreme weather. When it snows the country stops and everything breaks; in a heatwave everyone melts as air conditioning is not really a thing we understand. We’re very good at rain. Rain is where Britain excels. Everything else is a mystery to us.

If you’ve ever visited this country you’ve no doubt had a conversation with someone about the weather. Every time I get in a cab I chat with the driver about the weather. We talk weather in shops and while queuing in the post office. Weather is the topic every Brit knows inside out. Bemoaning the weather is like our national sport.

It’s because our weather is generally really really crap. Ludicrously so. The British aren’t miserable at all — we just have crap weather and it gets us down. But give us a sunny day and we’re all smiles! It’s why half the country seems to decamp to Spain every year, to get burned on the beach and drink their bodyweight in sangria. We just need a bit of sun now and then.

Those of you who live in a hot climate are probably giggling at our inability to handle the heat, but London in a heatwave is pretty intense. It’s blocking my ability to write. And think. And sleep.

But in all honesty, I don’t mind it one bit.

And neither does Noah :)