Heatwave 2018: a guide to keeping your cool
As Britain makes the most of the longest dry spell in 40 years, Debora Robertson reveals how to navigate the weather – without giving the neighbours a meltdown
Is your big coat a distant memory? Have you stopped saying, “It’s hot, isn’t it?” to the bloke in the corner shop and waiting for him to say: “Too hot if you ask me”? Has it been days, weeks possibly, since you left the house with an umbrella and an emergency sweater?
It’s been blisteringly, joyously sunny for weeks now and as a nation, we’ve shrugged off our weather-based pessimism as though it were a stifling thermal vest. We’ve begun to trust in a sunny tomorrow of pavement cafés, outdoor swimming, late dinners in the garden, an extra glass of wine before turning in, because, why not? We’re practically Spanish now.
But our new found dolce vita (see, we even have to borrow someone else’s words for it) is not without its challenges. The heat makes us want to take everything more slowly, but we still need to go to work and be sharp – even though, let’s face it, that Tuesday night of pretending to be Spanish and having dinner and drinks in the garden at 10pm and then a poor night’s sleep because, lord have mercy, of the temperature of the bedroom, leaves us a literal hot mess.
But it is not too late to ensure we don’t flunk summer. Not for us, the clammy faux pas of dressing as though we’re at the beach when we’re in the office, slummocking about in flip-flops and radiating heat from lobster sunburn. This weekend, as we head to the coast, to the pub and the park, go around to the neighbours for a drink or host our own World Cup barbecues, there are a few simple guidelines to ensure we ace summer living like we’ve been doing it all our lives.
In the park
Mr Whippy and a Flake just won’t do. Make sure to ask if there is a vegan option at the ice-cream van to show off your 2018 credentials. Those mumbling in the queue behind you admire your courage and cuttingedge cred, but are simply too shy to express it explicitly. Don’t – whatever you do – show up in the park with a garage forecourt sandwich and a tin of Red Bull. If you must, wrap the sandwich in wax paper and red-andwhite butcher’s string for that artisanal, Instagrammable look and decant the Red Bull into an ecofriendly bamboo-finish Thermos hydration bottle.
At your friend’s barbecue
Don’t shame yourself with a pack of fluorescent pink sausages, which have the texture of putty. If you must have sausages, try to fit in time to go on a course to learn how to make them yourself, but ideally invest in a hunk of heritage rare breed, preferably a slab of 18-year-old Galician beef with flesh red as garnets. If you want to lend a raffish air of wartime GI packing nylons and smokes, be lavish with the halloumi to show the current shortage doesn’t affect you, sweet cheeks.
And while we’re here, we’re about 10 years past Pimm’s o’clock, darling. We may even be too late for the Aperol train. Start pouring sipping vinegars and Seedlip’s non-alcoholic spirits, if you really want to impress your friends and neighbours with your on-point summer 2018 drinking.
In the supermarket
The chilly thrill of the supermarket freezer aisle is mightily seductive when it’s hot outside and, like a Siren calling from the rocks, it can lure you into danger. You may have come in for a bag of ice, but suddenly your trolley is piled high with king prawn gyoza and frozen beef carpaccio, because a night of fitful waking in a tangle of sweat and despair means you are no longer capable of rational
Don’t show up in the park with a garage forecourt sandwich and a tin of Red Bull
thought. Even worse, though you haven’t used a plastic straw in months and you now favour a nice Liberty print dipped in wax instead of cling film, suddenly summer doesn’t seem possible without that ombré acrylic pitcher and enough flamingoembellished melamine party plates to cater a Florida wedding. Take a list.
In the privacy of your own garden
You are allowed to just sit, you know. You don’t have to seize the glorious day to wash and line-dry everything in your house like some sort of manic Little House on the Prairie cosplay. And despite having finally built that outdoor pizza oven, you don’t have to use it every single night to ensure you’ve got your money’s worth. When you finally get your head out of your fruit woodpile, Morwena from next door is trying to pluck up proper middle-class courage to let you know the constant wafts of smoke are playing havoc with her kid’s asthma. (Also it’s making everyone’s laundry stink.)
At your neighbours’ party
When the sun comes out, even we reticent British lose enough of our inhibitions finally to accept the neighbours’ invitation to pop round for a drink. It’s horrendously easy to get swept away in a cloud of bonhomie and cheap rosé to the point where we start saying or – worse – doing inappropriate things. Unless you want to combine a hangover with working out how easy it might be just to move to a different country, rein it in a bit.
At the lido
The regulars hate it when the sun comes out and suddenly the rest of us show up to get all up in their goggles and ruin their perfect lane craft. No petting, no bombing and no using the hottest day of the year to teach yourself butterfly. Oh yes. No budgie smugglers. We’re not France where, because they obviously hate life, they insist men wear them in public pools.
On the move
Let’s face it, getting around is the pits when it’s boiling. Sometimes literally the pits, when you’re nose-first in a sweaty commuter’s armpit. Developing an affinity for soap and water is one of the kindest things you can do for the jollity of the masses.
People lose their temper more quickly in the heat too, so calm down, stop shoving, buy some headphones and we might all get out of here alive.
Same goes for those long, family car journeys when you’re in hour six and you still can’t see the sea. Sometimes it’s easier to admit you live on the M5 now and anything else is just a bonus.
Down the pub
Any pub with a half-decent garden (i.e. not within whiffing distance of a battery chicken farm or too extravagantly scattered with broken glass), is going to be rammed on a hot weekend. Observe Lido Rules; that is, stay in your lane and don’t colonise anywhere clearly the domain of the regulars. In simpler establishments, don’t show off by ordering anything too weird, esoteric, or that requires muddling. Also – and this applies anywhere that isn’t your garden or the beach – keep your damn shirt on. No one needs to see that.
At a World Cup party
If you’re having people round to watch the football, it’s fun sometimes to serve food from the nations playing, but don’t take it too far. No one cares and crisps are delicious. Any dish that needs an explanation that begins “Well, actually…” should be expunged from your hot weekend repertoire. Unless you’re actually from Uruguay, it’s fine to call a pastel de carne a meat pie.
At the dinner table
You may begin the day thinking this is the summer you will survive on luscious fruits and vibrant salads, perhaps a little live whole milk yogurt and lightly grilled fish for that protein boost? By 3pm, you’ve convinced yourself ice lollies are a legitimate food group, especially the ones containing almonds, raspberries and mint, for the antioxidants. We have so few hot days, that’s actually fine.
Live your hot life.