Unpopular opinion...it's been far too hot this week.

I know starting the column with those words will immediately cause a lot of eye rolling, but I just can't deal with temperatures above 19 degrees. I feel as though this piece may divide our readership even more than my political rants, or firmly held belief that chippies should never be allowed to charge for ketchup. Or indeed my conviction that putting your feet on the seats in the cinema should lead to twelve hours being locked in a padded booth, with only the piped hits of Right Said Fred for company. A contact sport...let the neighbours talk.

I think barbecues are vastly overrated, and most I've been to have been a real disappointment. Everything ends up tasting the same, and of course a number of factors put you off your overcooked food. Sweaty blokes whipping off their tops at the first opportunity and showing off their spongy beer bellies and misspelled tattoos. Wasps making a beeline for your food. Flies. Not to mention my dislike for eating whilst standing up. I hate it. That's my invitation to your summer BBC cancelled, and I'm absolutely fine with that, cheers.

I will always seek out the shade, and a whisper of breeze, on a baking hot day like the ones we've had this week. But you're just as likely to find me watching a film in a lovely air conditioned cinema, or catching up on one at home with the blinds closed, whilst waiting for the early evening when the temperature outside is bearable.

I know some people feel really gloomy when the nights start to draw in, but I love autumn, when the trees are like a painting around every corner, marshmallows and hot chocolate become the norm, and you need a nice fleecy coat to go for a long walk, rather than your flimsy garments sticking to you whilst you try and have a stroll in the sunshine.

Public transport is pretty terrible when it gets hot. One conductor on a Northern service I boarded earlier this week said the carriages are pretty old in some cases, so you end up playing air conditioning Russian roulette. If you choose your seat wisely, it might work, but you could end up in a stuffy carriage where the air con has packed up, and the smell of a fellow passenger's lukewarm Maccies fries is wafting into your nostrils. Delightful.

If you love the sunshine and can't get enough of it, fair play to you. For me, a pint of IPA in a cosy country pub with the crackle of a roaring log fire beats the tinny drone of the ice cream van any day of the week. I can only think of one advantage...the heating bill is lower at the moment, so my obsessive daily checking of the smart meter has ceased for the time being at least.

I'll also concede that a beer garden in the sunshine is enjoyable, as long as there's either some shade or some clouds in the sky. Surely with the advances of AI leading to a 'new' John Lennon vocal on a forthcoming Beatles album, we can invent a button that changes the microclimate over our own back garden? I'd love to be able to press the 'grey and slightly chilly' button every time I see someone walking into a shop with no top on.

Perhaps I've had too much sun, and I'm feeling extra grouchy as the deadline to finish writing this column approaches. One thing I can get behind is a campaign by several cancer charities to scrap VAT on sunscreen, to knock an average £1.50 off a bottle and make it a bit more affordable. Melanoma Focus quizzed 2000 people in the UK, and around half said they thought sunscreen was too expensive. An alarming one in ten stated they didn't use it at all because of the cost. Surely slicing 20% off the price of a bottle is a quick win for the government, when they are not stuffing the Lords full of characters you'd cross the street to avoid talking to.

Now I've finished penning this, I might go for a lie down. A nap will make up for my tardy sleep totals...again caused by the heat. Cold nights are so much more enjoyable! 193 days until Christmas, folks.