Imagine being a Brit on holiday in South West France now, or perhaps in the Ávila and Madrid areas of Spain? You’re in your RV at the most beautiful site you can imagine, surrounded by picture postcard scenery of thick forests and miles of fields, and, slowly but surely, you become aware of distant smoke from a distant fire. The smoke appears to be getting closer and soon you’re breathing in sooty, dusty air. You check your mobile phone for the news, assuming you can get a good signal, and you find that to your horror that one of the largest peacetime civilian evacuation operations ever carried out is taking place, right here, right now. But this is not a nightmare. It’s happening.
Having observed at our formerly green and pleasant land in recent weeks, I was pleased when waking up just after dawn today for my usual bathroom visit that it was raining. Not enough to make any significant difference to the near drought conditions we are currently in Britain – some areas actually are in drought areas: just not here yet – but enough to soak the fluffy cushions covering our garden furniture, as we had forgotten what rain actually looked like. Cleaning the sodden covers is very small beer when compared to the horrible events going on in Europe.
I have witnessed wild fires when on holiday in the Greek islands over the years, but on a far smaller scale to that which going on in France and Spain. Once, in Corfu fires were raging in the hills of north Corfu and, lying on the beach, we observed sea planes collecting water and then dumping it on the fires. It did not affect our holiday there to any great extent, although one did engage in disaster thinking, the world of ‘what if’; what if the fires spread to where we were, reached the airport, stopped us leaving the town we were in? Greece can be tinder dry in summer. It doesn’t take much to start a fire.
Friends have just returned from France, close to the fire action. As soon as they heard about the relatively close proximity of the wildfires, they thought of nothing else but going home. They were not alone and before long the particular camp they were in started to empty, almost in slow-motion, as scores of towed caravans and RVs began the long road back to the French ports. I am told that there was no sense of panic, but once people were joining the convoys which were travelling at glacial speed through the French minor roads it was impossible to avoid the growing feelings of anxiety. Arriving at the blisteringly hot French ports in order to catch ferries that were in some cases days away from leaving felt like a considerable relief.
The feeling among tourists is not just for their own safety and well-being, but for the people who live there, many of whom are seeing their homes burned to a cinder, losing everything they own, as the fire services struggle to contain the burning beast. Much as tourists would do anything they could to help, all they really want to do is to go home to the safe and familiar.
You would like to think that despite the increasingly extreme summer weather, caused by human-induced climate change, it would not mean that the terrible wildfires in Spain and France, as well as the increasingly drought-stricken UK, would be an annual fixture, but what the scientists – you know, actual experts who seek evidence – are saying is that such extremes in the weather are more likely as a result of climate change. Should we curtail our travels just in case we get caught up in wildfires, or perhaps simply travel out-of-season to reduce the chances? But then, even that’s no guarantee we might not get caught up in something similar to what’s happening now? The changing climate has no respect for calendars.
In terms of great summers, which people like me define as warm, even hot, and dry summers, 2026 has been right up there. In June, we were fortunate to avoid the excess heat in the UK by visiting a Canary Island off West Africa and while I have thoroughly enjoyed this beautiful British summer, I am beginning to pine for just a little rain to put a dampener on things, if only for a short while. We know that, eventually, rain will come and in all likelihood it won’t stop raining for what will probably feel like forever, in which case I will doubtless get the blame. But by Christ we need it. The long range forecast suggests the warm/hot and dry weather is set to continue for at least the next few weeks and how long will it take for Britain to start burning, too?
The pine forests of France are ablaze and, as my friends have told me, they are just relieved to be at home, after a stressful journey. Boarding the ferry was the best feeling they had had in weeks. Welcome to the new normal, folks. And the less we do to counteract climate change, the worse it will be. The old saying, ‘mind how you go’, is more salient than ever. Who’d have thought that might involve where and when you might go on holiday? For many people, maybe it won’t, but it should.
For today, at least, let it rain.
