Blaise Tapp: Great British heatwave and the joy of mutual moaning

In fact, it’s so hot outside right now, even in places where rain and grey skies are a birthright, that talking can be far too tiring, meaning a puffing out of the cheeks and a widening of the eyes is all we need to do to convey the fact that we’re struggling with the heat.

It’s been so hot here, that journalists everywhere have given up saying that the town down the road is hotter than Ibiza, Majorca or a place we’ve never heard of Texas, because, when it’s as hot as it has been recently, pointless comparisons become redundant.

Brits moaning about the weather is nothing new and there are those who enthusiastically point out that we should count ourselves lucky that it isn’t currently 14 degrees and tipping in rain like so many other Junes of the past. But that would be to miss the point of being British - the vast majority of us aren’t happy unless we’ve got something to moan about.

Right now, I’m averaging about three cold showers a day, am a slave to shutting blinds during daylight and have Googled the best way to create a wind tunnel in a turn of the 20th Century property and am regularly sticking my wrists under a running tap. None of the above have made a blind bit of difference and, despite the fact that I’m dressed as if I’m at an 18-30’s beach party, I feel as though I’m being slow cooked while wearing a duffle jacket.

The fact that our collective moaning is now at peak levels, those who live with genuine extreme heat day in, day out have taken to social media to point out that it’s ‘only 34 degrees’ in parts of Southern England and that we should try existing in a climate where it’s not uncommon to see the mercury rise to above 40 degrees.

These people forget, however, that we don’t live in wooden houses that come with air conditioning as standard - our homes are brick built structures, designed to keep in the heat and we attempt to keep cool by buying £20 fans off the Internet.

Right now, I’m so hot, I’m sorely tempted to buy a linen suit but I know I’ll stand accused of looking like a pound shop Don Johnson.