The Great Welsh Heatwave of 2025
Well, who ordered all this then?
After spending eight months complaining that it was wetter than a mermaid’s washing line, Wales has finally been treated to a proper dose of sunshine. And how have we responded? By complaining. Typical.
It only took a couple of days nudging 27°C before the nation collectively declared, “I can’t cope with this.”
Suddenly everyone’s an expert on heat exhaustion, the dog’s lying flat out like an old rug, and Dai down the road is insisting he could fry an egg on the bonnet of his Fiesta. Mind you, he probably gave it a go.
Only a few weeks back we were peering through rain-streaked windows muttering, “It’s always sunny in Spain.”
Now we’re standing in the garden saying, “I’d give anything for a bit of drizzle.”
You couldn’t make us up.
The supermarkets have sold out of fans, paddling pools and ice lollies, while every Welsh Mam is marching around the house shouting, “Shut that door! I’m not paying to cool the whole of Carmarthenshire!”
Meanwhile, every Dad in Wales has dusted off the barbecue at the first glimpse of blue sky.
Never mind that it’s 30 degrees and everyone’s melting into the patio furniture, those sausages aren’t going to burn themselves.
Well, actually, they probably will.
And then there’s the great Welsh wardrobe dilemma. We spend all year waiting to wear shorts, only to discover our legs haven’t seen daylight since the Rugby World Cup. There’s enough Factor 50 being slapped on pale knees to keep the chemists in business until Christmas.
Sleep? Forget it.
Bedrooms have turned into saunas, duvets have been banished to the spare room, and half the country is lying spreadeagled on top of the bed wondering if opening another window will let in a breeze, or just another moth the size of a sparrow.
The best bit? We all know exactly how this ends.
By a week Tuesday it’ll be chucking it down again.
The flip-flops will be back in the cupboard, the barbecue will return to the shed after exactly one successful outing, and we’ll be back on Facebook posting, “Summer? That was nice while it lasted.”
Then, just to complete the annual Welsh tradition, we’ll spend the rest of July looking up cheap flights to the Algarve while standing in a queue at B&Q wearing a waterproof.
So, until the heavens inevitably open again, keep drinking plenty of water, check on your neighbours, and if it all gets too much, do what generations of Welsh people have always done . . .
Put the kettle on and have a good moan about it.
After all, sunshine comes and goes.
A proper Welsh complaint is forever.