Ireland is not known for its long hot summers. As a friend of mine once put, "t'would be a great little island if you could put a roof over it." So when the sun comes out, the sky turns a dazzling shade of blue and there isn't a cloud to be seen, the Irish get giddy. Every summer the supermarket flyers tout barbecue meats and furniture stores insist everyone needs sunshades, garden chairs and tables, magazines are full of recipes for those elusive hot summer days. But when the sun hits and the forecast is for at least a week of temperatures in the high Twenties, then a transformation overtakes us.
If you meet an acquaintance when you pop out to the shops to get some of those steaks for tonight's BBQ, you will spend at least ten minutes talking about the good weather. Everyone smiles, everyone is out in the garden dead-heading flowers, watering the grass and sitting for hours in the shade. Those sunglasses so beloved of the Irish even on grey days in mid-winter, now come into their own. Suncream is slathered on and red sore-looking sunburnt skin is on show under the strappy dresses. The savoury aroma of grilling drifts over the gardens in the evening. The beaches are crowded, in fact any place where there is water of any kind, is a magnet for sun-hungry people to enjoy being out of doors.
Who needs Spain?
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