Cor! What a scorcher!

The Substandard screamed Tubes 54° buses 47°

And the thermometer is set to rise further in unprecedented hot weather!

Three times today I have felt the sun/heat on my bare skin and concluded "That is quite possibly the hottest I have ever felt in this country" Can't be sure, but that's how I felt.

I went telling random people today that tomorrow is "Dress Down Wednesday". Well, not entirely random. Shall we say there was a clear gender bias in my sample...!

While on the bus from Victoria to Kensington Gore I counted 20 white people in jackets (I decided not to count visible ethnic minorities after I saw a very elderly woman in sari, jumper and cardigan). Of the twenty, one was in full morning regalia (Buck House Garden Party?) and one was emerging grandly from the Lanesborough. I counted five wearing jackets into the auditorium of the Albert Hall. And I felt ever so sorry for the commissionaires who were not permitted to remove their jackets until the conductor raised his baton. But in general, despite the "No Jacket Required" rule, I was surprised by how many men were wearing ties. In the office okay (for once our air conditioning was beautiful!), but once liberated and homeward bound...take it off!

As for the orchestra...surely Enlightenment means wearing shirt sleeves not dinner togs. It's the Proms for heavens sake, not Glyndebourne. Okay, it's Glyndebourne at the Proms.

But hey, how can I manage to provide a commentary from the Albert Hall even while Cosi is being broadcast live from same? Have they fitted free Wi-Fi into the Albert Hall?

Baton up at 6.30pm. 7.15 - my god the interval is not until 8. I think I might actually die. 7.25: I don't know whether this feeling is imminent vomiting or imminent fainting. Either way, I do not want it broadcast live on Radio 3. And if I did either, especially the former, I don't think I could ever show my face at a Prom or an opera again "Oh there's that woman who threw up in Cosi..."

I paused for a moment in the bar and decided that I could wait an hour until the second half started and decide whether or not to go in. I also realised that there were a couple of dozen people - probably late comers but perhaps the heat-affected, too, lounging in the stairwells and hallways listening to the relay, watching on a screen (fixed camera - no official televising tonight).

I went into the Ladies and I was shocked. I had earlier gasped at how red my nose was despite not having really been outside today. Having been out in the sun on Tuesday and Saturday my skin was a foreign-looking shade of walnut, but at 7.30 this evening it was paler than I have seen myself since the final day of my A-Levels in 1986 when I looked in the mirror and watched the bedroom somersault before my eyes...

So I came home, realising at the bus stop that my mp3 player is an FM radio. And I was home soon after the second act begun.

My attendance at Belshazzar on Sunday is weather dependent. It had better break before next Tuesday when a certain Peruvian dusky eyed Tenorino takes centre stage. I do not want to miss one minute of Juan Diego Florez.

Comments

[Gert]

But I look on the bright side. Queenie's there tomorrow night - which is why there are signs all round saying "This road closed from 8 am" and "If you chain your bicycles on 19 July to these railings they will be removed."

I chuckle to think of so many sycophantic royalists getting suited and booted to toady, doff their caps, and tug their forelocks. I think I shall listen to the concert in the garden dressed only in bikini bottoms sipping on a cocktail!

[Hairy McMungo]

Hairy McMungo listened to the radio broadcast and he can tell you that the only thing you missed in the first half was Come scoglio. The rest was worth paying Money not to see. Hairy knows you probably know this already but you can listen to the first half on Radio 3 if you're very bored.

Hairy thinks there are many embarassing things you can do during a radio broadcast like drinking too much whisky beforehand, laughing through a serious opera and then sliding off the chair and landing on your back in the aisle still laughing. Not that Hairy remembers doing anything like this.

With best Scottish wishes,

HAIRY McMUNGO

[Paul]

You are joking, right? Unless my math is off, 47C converts to something like 116-point-whatever-F, and that just CAN'T be true in London -- can it?

[Gert]

Paul, that's only on buses and Tubes and in places like commercial kitchens. The official high temperature for the day is 36.3C or 97F. My partner tried to place a bet earlier this year on temperatures reaching 100F but the bookies wouldn't take it.

Hairy, the Soave sia el vento was lovely, but as I was making my way out, I caught Un' aura amoroso, and wasn't terribly struck. I think the tempo was too slow which made it a bit dirge like.