GROWING up in a hot country is not all its cracked up to be. A sweltering expat childhood in Italy is one of the reasons I was so keen to get back to the mother country: mild weather, wet mists, reliable cloud coverage and unobtrusive summers. Bliss.
Recently, however, the South of England has been hotter than noon in Naples. Its intolerable, especially given how ill-equipped British houses are for keeping heat out. Our houses go up and up. So does heat, and most of us sleep on the top floor.
I live in a typical 1930s terrace conversion. In my house, air-conditioning is simply impractical. Not only is it bad for my already massive carbon footprint, I dont live in the kind of neighbourhood where you can leave a hose sticking out of a half-open window. And shutters, nice as they are, would look ridiculous in my house. But a fan? Now theres an idea.
By fan I dont mean some 9in office supplies number, wobbling away on the kitchen worktop and blowing all the minicab cards off the notice-board. I mean a big, whirling, ceiling fan, like the sort you get in the movies. I mention this idea to a couple of friends and they recoil in horror. What if it wobbles off the ceiling? What if one of the kids sticks a hand in it? Clearly neither event is desirable. To guard against the former, I decide to go for quality. As for the latter, I happen to think that a fixed object 8ft off the floor is somewhat safer than a rapidly rotating and highly unstable blade attached to an electrical flex.
But finding a high-quality ceiling fan is easier said than done. Most DIY stores seem to stock only nasty, faux- plantation models. Specialist lighting shops tend to carry only one excruciatingly expensive designer number, usually from Italy, with an eight-week wait. Eventually I found the American Fan Company (www.americanfan.co.uk, 0870 8034025). The AFC stocks Hunter fans. Hunter claims to have invented the ceiling fan in 1888; it uses high-grade components and its designs are streets ahead of its rivals. They range from an ornate Art Deco reproduction model to more contemporary, brushed-steel models. After much dithering, and a very long conversation with the infinitely patient Niki, I chose the Merced (£155), a compact, stylish model with just three blades and an integrated light.
The fan arrived two days later. Getting it fitted was a bit trickier. One look at the instructions and I knew this was not a DIY job. So, after several false starts with electricians in the Yellow Pages, I enlisted the services of The Handy Squad (08000 121212). Its man, Fagner, arrived bang on time and set to work with gusto. Here I must sound a note of caution: make sure your ceiling is in good nick before you start. Mine wasnt, and Fagner had a bit of a time of it. In the end, though, with much determination, the occasional untranslatable word in Portugese and a foul-smelling pot of super-filler, he succeeded in securing a solid base for the fan. And up it went.
The result is a triumph. Not only does it look beautiful, its completely silent and wobble-free. It doesnt blow the air about like a portable fan; instead it circulates it almost imperceptibly, so the room feels cool and fresh without any draughtiness at all. Its wired up to the old light socket, so its very energy-efficient, consuming less power than a 100-watt bulb. Im already planning one for the bedroom. Poor Fagner.
SARAH VINE
THE sitting room of my London flat faces south, heats up all day and by the time I get home is absolutely stifling. So Im getting plantation shutters that will, I hope, let in air, keep out the heat and sunlight and look gorgeous.
The good thing about these shutters (apart from the Out of Africa look) is that you can fling the windows open to let air in, and because the louvres sit inside a fixed door frame on the inside of the window they dont bang or flap, and burglars can’