In an unusually travel filled year, my family also went to Scotland, via London, to go to a friend's wedding. These plans were agreed to months and months in advance, before work went a little squirrelly, before we realized that our eldest would NOT be at home to look after the youngest.
The travel itinerary for my wife and I, while still the domain of the pretty damn fortunate could, if one squinted and held onto the ideal of class solidarity, still think of it as "oh that's not that bad", and "it's like if you took another camping trip, but added transatlantic flights and almost dodgy hotels to the mix".
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What bumped up the price enough for us to think the 'not entirely family budget responsible' was our eldest ended up getting into a month long study abroad. And try as we might, we couldn't quite reconcile letting our youngest stay at home for a week with only a somewhat disapproving dog as his chaperone. Did we watch too much Ferris Buellers day off? Maybe. Larger concern being the 'what is the worst that could happen', then realizing we'd be thousands of miles and 8 timezones away filled us with the sort of dread that is always at best, a low level radiation ever present in parenting. This scenario cranked it to somewhere near Chernobyl in our minds.
So, budget might take a beating, along with a feeling of class solidarity but at least we aren't frantically messaging our youngest at home making sure he hasn't set our place on fire or caught under a fridge or was mauled by a bear (we live in Canada and the last isn't entirely a hyperbole).
So that's a long preamble to say we went to the UK. London first. The same feelings and thoughts spin through my head as the other times we've been through here. Remnants of a dying empire, history at every turn, etc etc. But further observations are cut a little short by the fact that London is experiencing a bit of a heatwave.
Now, yes, it's not the sort of heatwave that ignites spontaneous brush fires or knocks birds literally out of the sky, but it's one of those weather phenomenons (happening all too frequently these days), that I call a Weather Sucker Punch.
Let me explain.
Different parts of the world are used to and geared towards a particular set of climates and weathers, and plan their infrastructrue accordingly, There are only so many weather continginencies a place can plan for, and most importantly, budget for. A weather event, that in any place else prepared for it would hardly warrant a blip; but in an place where it becomes a Sucker Punch, the impact ranges from 'a spot of trouble' to 'and now we don't have any municipal budget for kid's lunches.. or hospitals.'.
See also: snow in Vancouver, rain in Los Angeles. A city known for rain, more rain, a massive financial infrastructure that powers some of the most powerful and mundane forces on the geopolitical landscape, fog, a weird possessiveness for a very specific subset of 'curry', and rain. This is a city who's idea of air conditioning is maybe a small fan operating at maximum speed, reluctantly oscillating across the room. Where you see moss growing on any side of the building that sees the smallest suggestion of shade.
So we arrive in London and immediately experience the joys of a Heat Sucker Punch.
29 degrees Celsius here is 29 + everywhere. There is no escape. Pubs? You can get ice cubes in your drink, and would like a Sunday roast with some hot, rich gravy? Hotels? Well, not at the prices we are willing to pay.
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As is my response to any and all heat I go full tank top and shorts like the middle aged gym goer I am. Minus the awkward stretches and odd interaction asking "how many sets do you have left".
But nobody in London, outside maybe some other tourists (and even then) seem to adjust their clothing for the unrelenting heat. Maybe London offices are kitted out with proper air conditioning and perhaps this is an indication of the sorts of places we can visit on our budget that simply relies on that single, overworked fan, but everyone is just going about their business not worried about 29 degree indoors. I assume this is just the classic British stiff upper lip and everyone is going through severe heat exhaustion in a quiet, understated way.
The youngest is handling it like a champ, however, and thankfully, has not yet been eaten by a bear.
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