PARIS, FRANCE - The mercury has shattered its own spine, with France recording its hottest day since frogs first donned tiny trousers. The nation shimmers like a mirage in a deep fat fryer. Meanwhile, the UK, a country that treats 25 degrees as the onset of the apocalypse, is watching its heatwave planning collapse faster than a Tory leadership bid.
Air conditioning, once a humble convenience, has become the great political fault line. The rich retreat to their chilled bunkers, while the rest of us fan ourselves with copies of the Renters Reform Bill. Environment Secretary Thérèse Coffey, spotted fanning herself with a Brexit dividend, announced a 'review' into heatwave preparedness. Translation: we’ll think about thinking about it in a month.
But let’s talk about the elephant in the room. The elephant being a sweaty, red-faced commuter on the Northern line. The UK’s rail network, designed by a Victorian visionary with a funny hat, now buckles under the weight of a stiff breeze. Meanwhile, France has nuclear-powered air conditioning and a sense of national pride. We have Alan from Croydon selling ice creams from a rusted Daihatsu.
The real crime is not the heat. It’s the hypocrisy. Politicians tell us to 'stay hydrated' while slashing NHS funding for heatstroke. They tell us to 'check on vulnerable neighbours' while selling off public parks to luxury flat developers. The jungle drums of the climate crisis beat louder, and our leaders plug their ears with banknotes.
As I write this, a man in a pinstripe suit has just fainted on a zebra crossing. A woman is using a copy of the Daily Mail as a sunhat. The pigeons have unionised. Welcome to the Broken Britain heatwave, where the only thing rising faster than the temperature is the cost of a fan.
Mark my words: this is not a weather event. It is a dress rehearsal for the collapse of civic decency. And we are all sweating through our linen suits.
