Am I the only one who cannot stick this ridiculous heat? This is Ireland. We are not made to live in temperatures beyond a comfortable 17 degrees.
Don't get me wrong, I adore the sunshine as much as the next man and I find the bright weather has a wonderful effect on the Irish psyche, but 30 degrees in this country and we might as well be living in a microwave.
Tuesday morning, 27 degrees in the middle of Dublin. I haven't felt so uncomfortable sitting into my car since the time I overstayed my welcome in a Las Vegas steam room.
I felt like I was roasting in an oven as I made my way along the Stillorgan dual carriage way, sweating like a baboon in a duffel coat. I was desperate to cool down but nothing I tried was any use. The air conditioning simply blew hot, sticky air from outside back onto my face, leaving my cheeks looking like a pair of inflated whoopee cushions. Not even the shrieking shrill of the Beach Boys Good Vibrations could cheer me up.