82°F
I imagine the heat alluded to in Dante's fictional inferno would be something akin to the impending heat in Bollullos, and generally throughout the Andaluz. Today's forecast was for a high of eighty, although right now it's only 3pm and it feels hotter. The hottest heat usually hits around 4. When I tell people I'm hot, they laugh a little and tell me we're not even in summer yet. I'm scared.
Eight years ago (hot damn, eiiiiiight years ago I was a thinking individual, which means now I'm practically a mature adult, theoretically speaking.) I went on the adventure of a lifetime, a high school trip to Egypt. It was my first time overseas, and clearly had a positive impact since the trend has continued despite my, ahem, love of height, oceans, and planes. Prior to our departure, we were warned numerous times that temperatures would exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit, that the heat would be dry, that we'd have to drink plenty of water, wear hats and linen, and generally stay calm despite the cultural differences that included peeople walking around fully clothed in what seemed to be an inferno. Turns out the fully clothed crazies had the right idea. If you have loose, light clothes covering you, you're less likely to get burned, and more likely to maintain an inner cool since your clothes get the brunt of the heat instead of your skin. Or as I like to think of it, you create your own shade.
Alas, it seems that the heat of life first experienced in Egypt has returned, only I'm on a different continent, and I didn't bring linen on this trip. I just took a short trip to the bank to reload my prepaid phone which is forever out of saldo, and a twenty minute walk took me over thirty minutes, because I was trying to move slowly. Don't get me wrong, I much prefer this to the winter-time undiagnosed hyperactivity / anti-hibernation mode I went into during the winter to avoid idle moments that could inhibit ciruclation and trigger blood to stop flowing to my toes and fingers while sitting still. Thanks to the sun's recent and protracted arrival, I'm competely thawed out now, albeit frightened of the inferno that awaits.
Tomorrow, I'm going to Dublin, so maybe the 50-60 degree temps will remind me of Bollullos in winter, and I'll kiss the ground when I get back. A ver.
I imagine the heat alluded to in Dante's fictional inferno would be something akin to the impending heat in Bollullos, and generally throughout the Andaluz. Today's forecast was for a high of eighty, although right now it's only 3pm and it feels hotter. The hottest heat usually hits around 4. When I tell people I'm hot, they laugh a little and tell me we're not even in summer yet. I'm scared.
Eight years ago (hot damn, eiiiiiight years ago I was a thinking individual, which means now I'm practically a mature adult, theoretically speaking.) I went on the adventure of a lifetime, a high school trip to Egypt. It was my first time overseas, and clearly had a positive impact since the trend has continued despite my, ahem, love of height, oceans, and planes. Prior to our departure, we were warned numerous times that temperatures would exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit, that the heat would be dry, that we'd have to drink plenty of water, wear hats and linen, and generally stay calm despite the cultural differences that included peeople walking around fully clothed in what seemed to be an inferno. Turns out the fully clothed crazies had the right idea. If you have loose, light clothes covering you, you're less likely to get burned, and more likely to maintain an inner cool since your clothes get the brunt of the heat instead of your skin. Or as I like to think of it, you create your own shade.
Alas, it seems that the heat of life first experienced in Egypt has returned, only I'm on a different continent, and I didn't bring linen on this trip. I just took a short trip to the bank to reload my prepaid phone which is forever out of saldo, and a twenty minute walk took me over thirty minutes, because I was trying to move slowly. Don't get me wrong, I much prefer this to the winter-time undiagnosed hyperactivity / anti-hibernation mode I went into during the winter to avoid idle moments that could inhibit ciruclation and trigger blood to stop flowing to my toes and fingers while sitting still. Thanks to the sun's recent and protracted arrival, I'm competely thawed out now, albeit frightened of the inferno that awaits.
Tomorrow, I'm going to Dublin, so maybe the 50-60 degree temps will remind me of Bollullos in winter, and I'll kiss the ground when I get back. A ver.
3 comentarios:
I just finished looking at all your photos and WOW! How fun!! Although I could have done with about 75% fewer completely blurred out images...what kind of pathetic camera do you have, anyway?
I love and miss you, hurry up and come back to the states!
haha loved your blog....surprised they don't say que calor after hearing que frio every 2 seconds this winter...although my favorite are knee length boot wearers and jeans with cardigan sweaters on the beach when Im dying with my swimsuit on!
i dunno what blurred images you´re speaking of! i´m sure it was plain ART, lol, my camera is a little old though, but moving forward!
i have heard que calor, it´s ridiculous. but mostly they warn me of what´s to come... tengo mieeedo
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