Published: 26/06/2026
There are very few certainties in life.Death. Taxes. And someone insisting it's "not the heat... it's the humidity."
As estate agents, we spend our lives walking into other people's houses, and during a heatwave that becomes something of an extreme sport.
The first viewing of the day is usually pleasant enough.
By the third, you've climbed two flights of stairs, crossed a south-facing conservatory and somehow managed to maintain eye contact with a buyer whilst quietly wondering whether spontaneous combustion is actually possible.
Then comes the vendor.
"It's lovely and cool in here."
No. No it isn't.
It's 31 degrees. The dog is lying upside down in front of a fan, the chocolate biscuits have become a single chocolate biscuit and your shirt has fused permanently to your back.
But you smile politely.
"Oh yes... very pleasant."
Then there are the buyers.
Buyer One arrives carrying a bottle of water the size of a fire extinguisher and immediately asks whether the property has air conditioning.
It's Northamptonshire.
Of course it doesn't.
Buyer Two walks into the garden.
"Oh... I thought the grass would be greener."
So did every gardener in England before six weeks without rain!
Buyer Three asks the immortal question:
"Does the house always get this hot?"
To which every estate agent silently thinks... "It's the hottest week on record EVER you doughnut."
Then there are the vendors who decide that because it's sunny, every window, patio door and bifold should be opened simultaneously.
The result?
Every wasp in Northamptonshire arrives for the viewing.
Nothing quite destroys that premium lifestyle feeling like watching your negotiator sprint through the kitchen pursued by an angry insect the size of a drone.
And finally... (and this is always torture every time it happens!)…
You've just finished photographing the property, you've been in and out of a south-facing garden for the last hour, your shirt resembles something that's just come out of a washing machine, and you're mentally preparing yourself for the drive through slow rush hour traffic to your last appointment.
Suddenly, just before you leave with camera bag in hand, the vendor emerges from his man cave...
In each hand is an ice-cold bottle of Moretti (the big 620ml one!)
"Fancy one?"
DO I FANCY ONE? I scream in my head!
I'm standing in 33-degree heat, I've just lost about three litres of body weight, and you're offering me what appears to be the most delicious, coldest looking bottle of beer ever produced.... Of course I fancy one!
Unfortunately, I'm also at work... and I've got another appointment to get to.
So instead, I smile politely and decline what is, at that precise moment, quite possibly the most beautiful bottle of beer I've ever seen , climb back into my car with a bottle of lukewarm water that's been rolling around on the passenger seat since Tuesday, and head off to the next property.
Mental torture.
Stay cool... and if your estate agent is visiting over the next few days and you know it's their final appointment, feel free to offer them an ice-cold Moretti. If it's only 11 o'clock in the morning and they've still got four viewings and two valuations to do... perhaps just stick the kettle on instead!