There is a heatwave upon us. Temperatures have reached 30 degrees in all regions of the United Kingdom, with Ireland experiencing similarly horrifying heat. It’s not as hot as in Dubai, I know, but compared to our usual moderate summers, it’s causing a bit of a strain. You can tell it’s a heatwave by the initial euphoria of the population for the first day or two — it’s barbecue time, yell the masses, as they fling their clothes to the ground and, bypassing the sunscreen, flee to the nearest park or green space to relish the generous rays of the sun. Days later, the howls of red-hued sun-worshippers can be heard throughout the land as the stark realisation of humidity, sweat, distress and sunburn sinks in. Tips on how to make the perfect burgers and what salad to eat for every day of the week are exchanged for how to avoid heat exhaustion as our bodies begin to catch up to our deluded minds.
While it’s beautiful to see the sun in the morning and the bucolic skies that eluded us throughout the winter and most of the spring, it’s fast becoming a mirror to our madness. In city centres, people flail about, writhing in a swampy, sickly soup of sweat, sipping on bottles of water and slurping ice cream in a desperate attempt to cool any part of their wretched, wringing bodies. I’m one of these people. Unlike in Dubai, where air-conditioning is as much a part of life as electricity, here we have to suffer the wrath of the heat without the luxury of technology that makes being a human in extreme heat more pleasant. People who laughed at the suggestion of air-conditioning now beg for mercy as the oppressive rumbling of a thousand fans in offices across the country drive people to insanity. They just don’t cut it.
And to top it all off, fires are cropping up in fields and areas of natural beauty, which have firefighters scrambling around trying to fetch water to quench the arid land and protect wildlife and nearby homes. Smoke can be seen billowing from the ground in some parts of the country, a measure of the sun’s power and a warning of a potential future on fire. Yes, we’re all thinking it. Is this the beginning of climate change — horrible, freezing winters followed by blistering summers? Will we need to hibernate for six months out of the year or flee to other, more manageable climes? Maybe it’s time to find a way to get to Pluto. I hear it’s cooler there. Naysayers will be quick to remind us that we’ve been here before, we’ve survived many heatwaves, and we’ll get through this one too and come out the other side smelling like ... roses? And we’ll be thankful to have made it unscathed. I’m not too sure though. After that awful winter, which seemed to go on for centuries, the heat should be a welcome change. It will be worth investing in a bit of air-conditioning if climate change is going to turn our seasons to the extreme. These are things we’ll have to consider over the next couple of decades. Perhaps a shed at the bottom of the garden featuring a hot tub/ice bath? I’d be signing up for that quick sharp.
I suppose next week we might be moaning about the rain, or the storms or the dry spell and the inevitable hosepipe ban. If they can ban hosepipes, surely they can ban men going topless in the streets. Just please, put it away. It’s bad enough out here.
Christina Curran is a freelance journalist based in Northern Ireland.
