Getting hot, hot, hot

I think it is safe to say that summer has most definitely arrived in Perth. Temperatures are way up, the sun is out and the sky comes in just one shade of a very bright blue.

After all those months of moaning about how cold it got in the winter, here I am, cooking slowly in my own skin. Add an onion, a couple of carrots and a bay leaf and I’ll be good to go.

For the most part I love the heat. Always have. Something to do perhaps with growing up in Africa and being oven baked at a very young age. Having later gone to live in the blistering heat of the Middle East, followed by Singapore, I can’t say basking in the warmth of the sun every day has ever really given me a cause for complaint.

So yes, I do love the heat. Humidity, on the other hand, is not my friend. Granted, Singapore is about as humid as it gets, but life is conducted in homes, cars, offices and shopping malls, all of which are cooled down to the same arctic temperature as a freezer storage unit.

Here in sunny WA however, our evaporative air-con, while totally effective 95% of the time and a bargain at around $1 a day to run, does absolutely bugger all when a humid day rears it’s unwelcome head. Well I suppose it’s a bit unfair to say it does nothing. It does gather together all of the hot air flowing through the pipes in the sweltering loft space above, and then puff it down on to us in great muggy blasts.

As we did last year, this year we have decided that next year we are definitely going to invest in an air-con unit that actually does what it says on the tin.

Aside from that gripe all is fun in the sun, though perhaps not for the dog, who is admittedly spending far more time passed out under the trees than he is fetching balls. Our grass is also facing an uphill battle to stay green, and all of my various vegetables (except the peppers) have given up the good fight and withered away to nothing. So much for my grand plan to grow the contents of our crisper drawer this year.

The interior of my car, when left out in the sun, can now double up as a microwave. By the time I have strapped my son into his seat, shut his door and opened mine – ‘ping’ he is done. If I forget to put my cars ‘sunglasses’ on, the steering wheel is just about hot enough to remove my skin on impact.

On the subject of glasses. Over the past few months I have taken on similar facial markings to that of a panda. I have large permanent white rings around my eyes, giving me a somewhat startled appearance when at their worst. On the upside, I believe I have probably lessened my chances of being run over at night.

The trouble with the sun in Perth is that it gives a whole new meaning to the word bright. Having very light sensitive eyes, if I go outside without sunglasses I will almost certainly be blinded by the glare, and possibly reduced to nothing more than a pile of dust on the pavement.  Exposing my eyes to the elements will also give my skin just the excuse it’s been looking for to start wrinkling out of control. So if it’s a choice between looking like a candidate for Beijing Zoo’s breeding program, or looking like a little old lady who works 12 hours a day in the paddy fields, then there really is no competition. Bring on the bamboo and just call me Chi Chi.

Of course having a pool is a God send when the temperature shoot up. It also makes up for the rest of the year when it just sits there in the garden, like a rather attractive water feature. Unfortunately after a few days in the late 30′s, a pool can become something of a tepid bath, and swimming in a bath is not always relaxing. So when looking to cool down, the best trick I have found is to leap straight out from the shower and stand spreadeagled in front of a fan. Of course best to first check that the floor isn’t too wet on the way out and that your curtains are firmly closed.

One benefit of the heat is that I can now get my clothes washed, dried and back on within 45 minutes. How handy is that, it just makes doing the housework that little bit more special. All fabrics are currently drying within minutes of coming into contact with the peg, unlike in the winter months when clothes get draped across every surface in the house until the overpowering smell of mildew takes over, and they end up in the tumble drier.

Of course, if when pegging out your stuff you forget to turn your things inside out and hang your tops up back to front, by the time you bring them in they will have faded by several shades in the most obvious places. Or, if like me, you often forget to bring the washing in at all, then after several days all your have to do is open your door and let the clothes march in by themselves. I currently have at least 14 crispy fried shirts all sat in a basket, each one so rigid that I know it’s going to laugh in the face of the steam iron.

That said and done, we have been lucky in Perth. Despite the soaring temperatures, we haven’t had to contend with any of the terrible bush fires that have devastated parts of Southern Australia. This last week has proved what a a scary thing nature can be and with global warming on the war path, weather patterns as we know them are being turned on their heads.

For now the best thing is just to stay inside and avoid the sun during the hottest part of the day, slap sun cream on every inch of exposed skin and drink my bodies weight in water everyday. As I keep telling my daughter, by the time you realise you’re thirsty, your body is already well on it’s way towards dehydration.

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These pictures show how even the locals understand the importance of a good drink!

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Cooked to perfection

Anyone planning to move Perth and pass their days rotating slowly on a beach towel like a rotisserie chicken should think again. Forget the myths about safe tanning – the sun is not your friend.

Over exposing your pale and vulnerable flesh to the harsh Australian sun, can and will leave you burnt to a crisp, not unlike a piece of blackened rump steak on the barbie. And just as that burnt steak can be a carcinogenic, so too can obsessive sun worshiping fast track you straight into the nearest oncology department.

Sunbathing here can equal baking – in a 40 degree fan forced oven. So unless you fancy looking like a Sunday joint in a roasting tin, then I’d suggest you think more along the lines of spray tans and bronzing balls, than lapping up the UV rays in your bikini.

Admittedly it does seem odd that in a country famed for it’s buffed lifeguards and beach life image, many people choose to stay away from beaches during the summer months. Unlike Brighton or Bournemouth on an August Bank Holiday, where pink flesh is laid out row after row, on a public holiday here many of the beaches are virtually deserted. As a socially phobic beach goer who doesn’t like having to suck my stomach in for long periods of time or listening to someone else’s music, I see this as a bonus.

There are some who will always buck this trend and lay out in the sun, regardless of how high the temperature gets. These include dogs and cats, tourists (who have limited time to achieve their holiday tan) and the older, die hard sunbathing fanatics. These in particular are easily distinguished by their rhino hide skin and the overpowering aroma of pork crackling that surrounds them.

It is not until you experience the sheer heat of the midday sun (particularly in the summer months) that you realise sun cream should never be just an after thought or something that you put on if you find the time. Sun cream is something you put on every time you come into contact with fresh air – whether you’re going for a walk, spending a morning at the beach or just mooching around in your own backyard.

Actually from painful experience I have learnt the hard way that your own garden is possibly the easiest place of all to get burnt. This can happen when you pop outside ‘just for 5 mintues’ to tidy up something in the garden. 6 hours later, after an impromptu full scale pruning operation, you look in the mirror and find yourself to be the same vibrant shade as Elmo and limited to loose, bag shaped clothes for the rest of the week.

The sheer size of the hole in the Ozone right above our heads is reflected in both the human and financial toll that it is taking on society. Australia has the highest rate of skin cancer in the world, accounting for around 80% of all new cancers diagnosed each year. Australians are four times more likely to develop a common skin cancer than any other form of cancer, a fact reflected in the 380,000 people treated everyday – over 1,000 people a day, and the 1,600 deaths that are a result of this. Skin cancer also costs the health system around $300 million annually, the highest cost of all cancers.

Such high numbers indicate the extreme severity of this problem – a problem that the Australian government does not take lighty. As well as the gruesome shock tactics press and TV ads that appear during the summer months, the ‘Slip, Slap, Slosh’ sun wise campaign is promoted everywhere that you turn.

This highlights the recommended methods of protection – SLIP on a top, SLAP on a hat and SLOSH on some cream. In addition, it is also recommended to wear wrap around glasses and stay in the shade during the hottest part of the day.

Keeping children creamed and covered up is especially important. Exposure to the sun in childhood and adolescence is an important factor in the development of skin cancer later in life. For children here, learning to put on cream is just a way of life and if they don’t have their hat at schools, they won’t be allowed to play outside. New born babies in particular shouldn’t be out in the sun at all. Most people use black UV nets over their prams – also good for keeping pesky flies away.

So if the dangers of sunbathing are so high, why has having a tan long been associated with wealth, health and superficial good looks?

Long before the Hiltons, Lohans and Jordons of this world began worshiping at the temple of St. Tropez, people believed that having a tan indicated good breeding and class – and the money to be able to travel.

A recent onslaught of budget airlines allowing anyone with a passport and an overdraft limit to fly, has well and truly knocked that perception on the head. On the contrary now, being a similar shade to an Umpa Lumpa is now a trait associated with the countless wannabe stars of the tabloids and celebrity magazines.

The perception that a ‘tan = wealth’ has however always been one reserved solely for the Western word. In Asia, it is a pale skin that is deemed more beautiful, with ‘whitening’ not self tanning creams in hot demand.

Unfortunately with so many models still promoting a sun kissed ‘healthy’ glow on the pages of glossy women’s magazines, the use of a tan remains a fashion accessory. An accessory that destroys your skin. How ironic that whilst tanning may give you an outer appearance of good health, it can also kill.

Not wanting to be seen to be promoting this health risk, many beauty companies do go into overdrive in the summer months, with their ‘responsible’ advertising of their safer, self tanning products. But don’t these just further enforce the idea that brown is still best? If big cosmetic companies really wanted to save people’s skins, then like on cigarette packets, they would advertise the terrible risks of sunbathing with hard hitting photos of melanomas, along side the sun creams they sell. But I’m guessing that stomach churning imagery doesn’t really help to shift beauty products of the shelves.

Having grown up in a succession of sunny climates, I know I have already fried my way through countless layers of skin, in the search of the perfect tan. Back in my teens and early 20’s, the mission was to get as brown as humanly possible, without actually having to undergo an ethnic transplant. Whether that meant dousing myself in Hawaiian Tropic or laying in a pool of my own sweat on a human griddle for half an hour at time, there was nothing I was not naively prepared to do. Back then, being pale did not equate to being beautiful, it simply meant you were coming down with the flu.

It has taken me a long, long time to finally get it into my head that having that ‘oh another half an hour won’t kill me’ mentality is really just playing Russian roulette with your health. The older I get and the more rigorous I am with the L’Oreal Wrinkle Decrease every night (which incidentally does exactly what it says on the tin), the more stupid it seems to then go out the next morning and undo all that hard work.

It has also taken a long time for the world to start pulling together to face up to this issue. One big step in the right direction will be taken at The 12th World Congress on Cancers of the Skin, held in Israel in May 2009. Dermatologists, plastic surgeons and oncologists from around the world will come together to learn about and discuss the latest breakthroughs in the world of cancer.

Until a cure is hopefully one day found, ignorance can no longer be used as an excuse when it comes to the sun. If you live somewhere where the risks run higher and you don’t slap on your slop, you will be treated like an masochistic idiot who ultimately deserves the consequence’s they might face. Unlike many others, this is one disease that can be prevented with a little common sense. So using some is essential.

If after reading this you still can’t resist lying out in the sun for hours, then here’s a way to achieve the same look in half the time. Simply baste yourself down with some good quality virgin olive oil, roll around in some fresh herbs and chuck yourself onto the barbie. It’s always been a look that’s worked well for a chicken drumstick, and at the end of the day cooked meat is just cooked meat.

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