In previous years of my life it’s been possible to detect a suntan on my skin – usually pretty faint, but undoubtedly darker than my bog-standard pearly white. Of course, being Irish my skin is of delicate persuasion and so to get to anything beyond my usual hue, I have to sit patiently in the sun for no longer than an hour at a time with factor 20 lathered on my skin – getting any colour is no mean feat. Which is why this year’s suntan has come as such a surprise, being that it’s not only been garnered on these shores but also by lounging in my back garden…
You see, all those other suntans that have come my way have without fail been awarded by sun from abroad – and as we all know, sun from abroad is different to ours. When I was 16 I spent the summer in Canada for my sister’s wedding and came back bronzed. When I was 22 I went to Greece and arrived back in bligthy a soft shade of oak. When I was 35 I spent a week in Egypt and came back positively muddied. But never before have I scored the faintest of suntans purely via our own UK sun. Until now.
Of course, it helps that I’ve been off work and so have had the hours to put in to get to the place I need to be – namely, a subtle shade of biege. I mean, you still have to squint and see me in the correct light to catch it right, but believe me I’m tanned. I even have the tanlines to prove it.
What’s more, having a UK summer suntan is making me giddy with excitement because I’m going to Spain for a week in September so if I can concentrate hard and make sure it doesn’t go away before then, think of the colour I might return with. In fact, you better take a picutre of me now so you remember me as I am…