Hot,hot,hot!

(See left for the street where I live. The appartment block is in the middle distance)

‘Hottest meanest stretch of desolation this side of hell’; well not quite – I took that line from a movie playing on cable TV recently. But it certainly is hot, with temperatures stuck in the mid-40s. It affects everything – your ability to move, your breathing, even your contact lenses.

Most importantly, it affects your enjoyment of the outdoors. I never quite realised that when it comes to extremes, cold is probably better than hot, though I do still have memories of a particularly bitter winter in New York, when I ventured outdoors and thought the skin had been stripped off my face.

Walking around is still possible, but you have to select your time. Have walked home from work since I came back, but this could become a problem if it gets any hotter.

One plan is to wait until dark and then go down to the corniche. Not that keen on being out after dark though, especially since street lighting is non-existent in some parts of town and the roads have become more dangerous because of ongoing work on various streets. The best part of two streets have entirely disappeared in the fortnight I was away and no doubt will be replaced by something beautiful. At the moment, they are shrouded in hoarding which encroaches on the footpaths.

Add in the odd nutter such as the short Indian gentlemen who leered at men all the while rubbing his crotch suggestively when I went to the post office a few days ago.

Walk swiftly from shadow to shadow when outdoors to avoid getting burned. When I open the door, the whiff of Dettol fills the air. May the cleaning lady has been. But that’s another story.