The Heatwave

In Scotland, The Heatwave enters its second day. Young men are jogging round the park topless, their bodies slick with sweat.

Indoors, my work are hosting a reception. Ladies in light sundresses work their way through sandwiches and sausage rolls as I perspire in my suit. I can't wait to leave, and tell my Spanish colleague I am cycling home. "Isn't it too hot for cycling?" he says. "I don't like the heat. it's why I moved north."

He's not the first person I've met who, crazy as it seems, moved here for the weather. As the world warms, I wonder if places like Scotland will become more attractive to people from hotter climes?

But it's been a punishing 26-plus degrees Celsius for the past two days. Now, there's people who would laugh at that heat, but I don't. It's unnecessary. There's nothing worth doing that can't be done in the mid teens, tops, preferably less. Frankly, I don't like the heat either. I like to stride out across the hills with the wind in my hair. And that's no fun in paddling pool weather.

Fortunately the third day comes, and the heatwave has been broken by a lovely cool haar. Just as well. I was wondering if I needed to do my morning run topless - and nobody needs to see that...