It is about all I can muster, a playsuit to slip into and a hat to keep my face away from the relentless sun that has begun to sting rather than shine. Now, a summer lover, as you know, I wholeheartedly am – but the humidity and heat has risen to levels that not even I can bare. I realize you too probably experienced a heatwave but that has perhaps petered off; in Spain, it just isn’t going away. Snapchats from my Spanish friends all over the country focus on just how intolerable it is, how miserable we all are – while the tourists collect vicious sun burns we are sitting inside sweating and swearing at what feels like a truly violent summer. When it is gets this hot, the heat sinks into your bones and warms you like a coat you can’t take off. Every morning, I wake up drenched in sweat with Biba in her bed beside me panting in a way that makes me worry. There are almost hourly showers or pool dives and daily supermarket trips for ice and 5 litre bottles of water that get gulped quicker and quicker, it seems. I have no makeup on in these photos, my hair is sticking to my neck and my feet are battered and dry from a stubborn refusal to wear anything but sandals. This heat is humbling, humiliating almost – dominating all of us unfortunate enough to be without that delicious thing called air conditioning. You probably think I’m being dramatic. Maybe I am, it’s easy to get overly heated when your entire body is burning. When it gets this hot, life boils down to the essentials. Shopping the sales? Beach sunbathing? Walks with Biba after lunch? All these activities get tossed aside simply because to partake in them is simply, uncomfortable. So here, I am, concentrating on drinking an ocean’s worth of water, forever hauling ice home, artfully positioning myself in front of multiple fans and impatiently waiting until almost dark to venture out for a run or to the gym. Anything else just doesn’t interest me, I am absolutely and utterly too hot and girls, I’m almost hysterical about it.