In Cyprus, we build for survival. For summer. Hands up. Who’s in the UK right now? I bet you’re missing Cyprus! Not for the halloumi or the sea views or the fact that every third person has a lemon tree. But because, over the last week, Britain was actually hotter. And the nation absolutely lost its mind… For days, the BBC led with heatmaps in alarming shades of crimson. The summer of 1976 – Britain’s favourite hot weather event – was rolled out yet again. Especially in London – both at Kew Gardens and Heathrow, May 26 saw record-breaking temperatures in excess of 35°C! Elsewhere in the UK, 32 degrees was the norm; everyone was warned to stay indoors, drink water, and check on vulnerable neighbours. Which sounds sensible enough. Until you remember that the majority of British homes are essentially designed to trap heat like a Thermos flask! In Cyprus, we build for survival. For summer. There are cool floors underfoot. Thick walls. Ceiling fans that sound like helicopters preparing for take-off. We know how to live with heat because, from June each year, we do. Britain, meanwhile, still behaves as though hot weather is a charming three-day guest that might pop round unexpectedly in August. There’s carpet everywhere. Tiny windows. Radiators in every room. Duvets apparently stuffed with the souls of the damned. And absolutely no air conditioning except in supermarkets – which, according to reports, are currently full of pensioners pretending to browse yoghurts for four hours at a time. And yet, oddly enough, 32 degrees in Britain genuinely does feel worse. Here’s why. In Cyprus, heat hits you directly. It can be aggressive, yes – like being smacked over the head with a flaming shovel – but at least it’s honest. You step outside, the summer sun hits, and you just accept the situation. Britain is different. There, the heat creeps. It wraps itself around your body like clingfilm and slowly roasts you alive in your own loft conversion. You sweat, but nothing evaporates. Your clothes stick to you. You wake up at 3am feeling like a microwaved ham. “For me, it’s the humidity in Britain,” says Sandra Cooper, who moved back from Nicosia to Cheltenham in 2019. “In Cyprus, it’s dry – you sweat, it evaporates, you move on. Here, it just clings to your body. You feel like a damp dishcloth day and night.” And the nights, everyone agrees, are the worst. “In Cyprus, even if it’s hot, the evenings cool things down,” says Tomas Photiou, a Limassol-based teacher who visited London last summer. “But in London, the heat just sits there trapped in the buildings. You feel like the city itself is overheating.” Of course, climate change is making all this far more common. According to recent figures, the UK is now nearly two degrees hotter than it was in the early 2000s. It’s also become noticeably sunnier over the last decade; extreme rainfall and humidity events are also increasing. It’s all basically the perfect recipe for unbearable sticky heat. And unlike Cyprus, Britain simply isn’t equipped for it. There are no cool, airy interiors. No homes designed around the climate. No cultural understanding that perhaps nobody should be sprinting around at 2pm carrying mulch and wearing polyester. Instead, every summer, Britain reacts with the same baffled energy of a man who’s accidentally sat on a barbecue. Fans sell out nationwide. Transport collapses. And newspapers compete to see who can describe the weather with the most apocalyptic adjective. One tabloid called it “scorching.” Another opted for “volcanic.” Again: this was 32 degrees. Meanwhile, in Cyprus, half the population was still saying things like “it’s not really hot yet.” And perhaps that’s the real difference. Cyprus doesn’t just have hotter weather. It has an entire way of life built around managing it. On this island, we have slow afternoons. Shade. Sea breezes. Late dinners. Stone houses. Cold water always within reach. An understanding that humans are not designed to operate at maximum efficiency while the sun is attempting to liquefy the pavement. Consider, for example, bbf:’s :lake view development in Polemidia. Like many of the island’s newer homes, it reflects something Cyprus has understood for centuries: when the weather is warm, life naturally expands beyond four walls. Onto terraces, balconies, roof gardens and shaded outdoor spaces where people gather long after the sun has begun to set. Because on an island where summer dominates much of the year, a home isn’t just somewhere to retreat from the heat. It’s somewhere designed to make the most of it. Britain hasn’t learnt that yet. Which is why, every time temperatures rise above 30, you can practically hear the entire UK crying out in unison: “Give us air conditioning. Give us cool floors. Give us breezy evenings on open terraces…” When really, what they’re saying is: “We want a home in Cyprus!” Inspired by the way life in Cyprus is enjoyed today, bbf: creates homes designed around light, space, and connection. Among them, view in Polemidia offers elevated views, generous outdoor areas, and a distinctly Mediterranean approach to modern living. To learn more, visit www.bbf.com
Signs point to a Cyprus problem summer
• What happened: After nearly a decade of stagnation, there are signs that negotiations regarding the Cyprus problem may resume, coinciding with the ninth anniv...