Forget brat, summer in Texas is thermostat. A very, very high thermostat.
This is new for someone from London. Before I relocated to the outskirts of Houston last year, I had only been to Texas once, as a kid.
Back then, the Rockets weren’t just in the NBA playoffs, they won the championship. I remember that vividly; I also remember our hosts taking us to Galveston Beach, where my 10-year-old self stayed out in the sun too long, got heat stroke, and fainted.
Safe to say I’m not great with warm weather, but after moving to Texas in the winter, I thought surely it wasn’t going to be that bad this time. A few months after arriving here, our friendly neighbors helped us wrap our pipes in plastic bags so they didn’t freeze. How could it get so hot in summer if it’s so cold in winter?
That was my first mistake, thinking Texas had a logical weather pattern. They say, “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun,” but in late June, I walked across an H-E-B parking lot and didn’t see any dogs. As sweat appeared in places I didn’t know existed on my body, I wondered if it really was the best time to go and buy milk.
Baz Luhrmann said everybody’s free to wear sunscreen, but after five minutes walking down San Antonio’s River Walk, it was dripping into my eyes. “You’re built like a popsicle,” my daughter, who was born in sub-tropical South America, quipped. “You’re melting!” I corrected her: “I’m built like an ice lolly.”
As you can tell, dear reader, I may have survived my first summer in Texas, but I had to learn how the hard way. Here are some tips I picked up these last few months in the Lone Star State.
Embrace the Air Conditioning
In London, if the temperature gets to 65°F (18°C), it’s time to grab your one pair of shorts,
get out to the nearest park and sunbathe until you get redder than a Rockets jersey (or, more likely in London, an Arsenal shirt). Finally, a time to revel in the great outdoors and enjoy the sunshine.
In Texas, that’s an excuse for a light jacket. But most of the year is about 20 degrees, if not 40 or 50 degrees, warmer than that. Luckily, you have your own oasis in the figurative desert, specifically Buc-ee’s. These oversized convenience stores attached to a famously clean gas station didn’t make sense to me, at first. How many varieties of beef jerky does one need to choose from?
But on a road trip to Austin, I discovered that the walk from the entrance to the bathroom and back (down numerous rows of beaver-themed merchandise) was long enough that you began to cool down en route. Genius.
More questions led to more happy discoveries. I asked: Why is baseball season so long? Why are there so many games? Who goes to watch live sports on Tuesday afternoon?
One Astros game was all it took to answer those doubts; the opportunity to sit inside an air-conditioned dome — a sporting igloo, if you will — for several hours was glorious. As my compatriot gleefully noted, “The price of admission is worth the energy cost you save from not being at home for so long.”
Don’t Mess with Texas Bugs
Another reason to stay inside? Insulate yourself from the local wildlife. I’m not talking about the big stuff like alligators and cougars; I mean the little bugs. Taking your trash can out after dark? Shine a light on that handle, or you might feel a searing pain in your finger and two puncture marks leading to a swollen-up digit for a few days. That was my summer welcome from a black widow spider.
Meanwhile, the back porch is too hot for relaxing during the day, and after sunset, you’re prey for mosquitos and can’t hear yourself speak thanks to the chorus of cicadas. As for footwear, Crocs or other sandals might seem a cool summer idea, but the temperature rises pretty darn quick when you step on a pile of fire ants. Now I know why Texas is famous for its boots.
Find a Pool
If you insist on being outside, make sure you are close to the water. This will be an expensive option if you plan to hang out in water parks for three straight months. There is an alternative: Research suggests there is one swimming pool per 36 people in Texas. Make friends with the one, not the other 35, and invest in that relationship. Bonus points if they have a smoker as well — brisket and belly flops are a perfect way to spend a summer afternoon. Not necessarily in that order. (Editor’s note: Not sponsored content, just a tip. Swimply and Resort Pass are both ways The Barbed Wire’s pool-free staffers have gotten in on that action.)
Drink the Tea
My grandad used to like a nice hot cup of tea in the summer, claiming it cooled him down. Grandad had never been to Texas. You see, since childbirth we were taught that tea is made by boiling water, and then adding a tea bag to brew in a teapot for several minutes, before pouring over cold milk in a teacup.
Here, it’s something entirely different. Tea is served without milk and ice cold; I can only assume this was discovered when those 18th century ruffians threw it overboard in Boston one December. When our kind neighbor had my wife and I over for something to drink, she offered us tea. Out of British paranoia (and snobbery, to be honest) I suggested coffee instead. Too polite to say otherwise (people here really are very polite), our host served me steaming hot black coffee.
I sat on the deck in her back garden sweating buckets; meanwhile our neighbor poured herself another glass of ice-cold sweet tea, and I’m sure she muttered, “Bless your heart.” Since then, I always take the tea.
All’s Well That Ends Well
And there you have it, a Brit’s survival guide to Texas summers. If this Popsicle-man’s advice isn’t enough, then enjoy the wisdom of the “Brits in Houston” Facebook group who have provided me with some tips for next summer, like: “When my mother visits I make her a lot of margaritas,” or “My partner survives the summer by flying back to the UK!” and “Shade is your friend…sun cream your lover.”
Now that we’re heading into fall, my next Texas task is to try and figure out why they keep all the lights on at the high schools on Friday nights around here.
