Especially if they are talking to someone new to town. 

As a newcomer who has yet to experience the soaring temperatures and the unbearable humidity (or so you say), a fair share of warnings, tips, and sympathy have been thrown my way. 

To say the least, I am shaking in my boots. 

And from what I have heard, rightly so. 

The inevitable weather changes are already settling in; the tourists are not having a bar of it and they are shipping out in droves.  

Anecdotal evidence suggests the next few months are going to be a long struggle of day-in-day-out ‘cooking from the inside’ heat.  

I have been warned to never leave the house after midday, to wear sunglasses and a hat at all times to protect from immediate, potential third-degree burning, and to be prepared to suffocate from the thick, brick wall of humidity when leaving the protection of air conditioning. 

How does anyone survive. 

But seriously, how bad can it be? 

I spent the better part of my childhood growing up in far north Queensland, where we too have a hot and sticky build up to a bucketing-down-rain wet season. 

I grew up knowing not to touch anything metal in the car if it had been sitting in the sun. 

To always wear shoes because the bitumen in the car park heats up to volcanic temperatures and that it can always, always get hotter. 

I am pretty sure I will survive.