The village of Coningsby, in deepest, flattest Lincolnshire, is familiar to me through family connections and I can vouch for the fact that, beyond lending its name to the adjacent RAF base (home to our deadliest fighter jets), it is an otherwise unremarkable place – unless, like me, you are a connoisseur of Lincolnshire sausages or stuffed chine, a local delicacy, both of which are specialities of the uncompromisingly traditional village butchers. But, this week, Coningsby hit the headlines when Britain’s all-time highest temperature (40.3 degrees Celsius) was recorded there. I sweltered vicariously while, here in Plymouth, with the mercury maxing briefly at a balmy 30 degrees, our seaside location induced a sort of Mediterranean ambience, bolstered by a re-acquaintance with watermelons which are currently on offer at the local supermarket.
Not that I spent the heatwave lounging around in the shade eating slices of melon and drinking tumblers of iced tea. There was work to be done. The local XR groups had planned a protest march and I was part of the logistic support crew, so I sweated it out in a van. The theme of the protest was to highlight the rising seas and the deterioration of our oceans’ bio-systems and to point to the part played by the oil-extraction industry. To this end, the march wound its way through the city centre, through the Barbican (which throngs with holidaymakers) and to its destination, an oil-processing depot, where it was met with a line of stern-looking police officers armed with a court injunction that severely criminalises any form of trespass on the premises or hindrance to its entrance. The injunction was not breached but, even if it had been, the directors of the business were not present to get the message. I hope they saw it on the evening news, along with all the other climate-change-related items. In any case, the extremely warm weather has amplified XR’s call: climate catastrophe is here and now, not somewhere else and at some point in the future. Does anyone still think that a target of net zero by 2050 is going to save the situation? I won’t be around by then, but it is surely a government’s duty to plan for those who will.
On a lighter note, the hot weather is favourable for my new swimming regime. Following my self-induced ‘scare’, I have decided to swim regularly, to build confidence and improve technique. The former is easy when the water is warm and welcoming; the latter is more complicated and requires application. I admit to having assumed knowledge and capabilities beyond my actual talent and experience, so, following the advice of a friend who knows what she is talking about, I am attempting to enlighten myself. “If all else fails, read the instructions” – so goes the aphorism which derives, perhaps, from the tendency to laziness that makes us look for shortcuts. But who can blame us when we are faced with examples such as the four-page, A5 leaflet that accompanied a small electric kettle I bought recently for only £12? Topics include how to unpack it, how to prepare it for use, how to use it, incomprehensible technical specifications, warnings about safety and several paragraphs clearly intended to be quoted in a court of law in the event of a civil case being brought against the manufacturer. I deserved a nice cup of tea after wading through all that.
But the first port of call for knowledge on “how to?” these days is YouTube and, when it comes to swimming, there is no shortage of naff videos. My instinct for narrowing them down is to start by eliminating those that have irritating American or Australian narrators, though when it comes down to it, I really shouldn’t care as long as they show me how best to propel myself through the waters that are rising around Plymouth and may soon be lapping around Coningsby.
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