Heatwave? HEATWAVE? Millennials moaning about the temperature don’t know they’re born. Yes, our genitals are melting on public transport, it’s too hot to go out to the cinema or stay in and watch Netflix, and across the country the outlines of ancient fortifications are emerging through the parched soil like primordial creatures. But I remember the long, hot British summer of 1976 — well, I half-remember it, I was 10 at the time — and let me tell you, this warm snap is NOTHING.
It isn’t that temperatures were hotter back then. In 1976 the thermometers topped out at 35.9C, in Cheltenham, and we’ve had a number of days this year that easily compete with that.
