So after a 7 month hiatus (alas life happened) I return to my blog in homage to the great British summer and the Brits that embrace it – which I write as it’s pouring with rain.
However this post isn’t about the rain but rather the glorious sunshine that we had last weekend. Hot enough that some even justified wearing no shirts – something that I cannot excuse whether you’re in Barcelona or Blackpool. The streets were bursting with overly confident Brits in shorts and vests and gardens were filled with the sweet smell of charcoal meat.
The greatest trend of the weekend though seemed to be sun burn, or certainly was the topic of conversation in my office on Monday morning, as people begrudgingly admitted that they were sporting a rosier-than-rosy-glow .
With temperatures reaching a scorching 23 degrees, you’d think we’d have learnt to put on sun cream but, the majority of us have some excuse for our lobster exterior.
‘I thought I was in the shade’ or ‘I did cream but I must have missed that bit’. And the biggest culprit of all: ‘I didn’t think it was that hot’
Even when we hear ‘heatwave’, we still slather on some olive oil and hope that our pasty white skin (having not seen the sun in months) will just become a nice shade of tan.
I mean obviously I don’t relate to any of those cliches and definitely wouldn’t have been as foolish to burn on the warmest weekend so far this year….
Well except my shoulders…they might be burnt a bit…