I haven’t been in London in the summer months for a while, and I always forget how strange a sensation it is to feel TOO WARM in the UK. Since these words are barely uttered up in our somewhat bipolar Scottish environs, it is strange to travel only five hours south and hear yourself uttering the phrase several times a day… because it really is FAR. TOO. WARM. Such heat is welcomed when fortunate enough to sport a bikini and lounge by the poolside, but to have to, like, do stuff and walk places and all that it really is a big exhausting sweat bath.
Once you have come to terms with the unavoidable consequences of London heat – potential passing out on the tube, dehydration, flat and/or frizzy hair, mugginess, spots and worst of all the dreaded SULA (that is, ‘sweaty upper lip alert’, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term), it is actually rather nice. For example, I know that if I tried to attend a festival in Scotland in July, it might be alright during the day but after that cut off point of 6pm when the cardigans come out, you know you won’t last long.
But once the sunshine surrenders itself and gives way to the balmy, comfortably warm evening, there is nothing like a London summer. Especially when you are at Lovebox festival with all the people you love the most, when being dropped from your sister’s shoulders (thanks again, Holly) and running around covered in hotdog condiments (again, thank you Holly) trying to find your lost friend Giulia ‘by the flags…next to the funfair…by the tobacco tent’, does not hinder your experience in the slightest.
London, you are big and dirty and TOO WARM sometimes but after weekends like these, I would just like to say thank you for the way you make me appreciate life and friends and festivals in the sun. One day I shall live among you mad city dwellers but until then, hasta luego big city, I love you long time.