Heat

We just ended our third heat wave, if I’m counting correctly. Europe’s been hit hard this year. Actually, it seems like we say that every year: “Europe has hit new heat records.” Braga is fortunate in many ways, it doesn’t seem to get as hot as in many other places. When Paris was hitting an unbelievable 45˚C, we experienced the high 30s. It was only last week that Braga managed to cross 40˚C, and I got to experience it for the first time.

At least, I don’t think I’ve experienced 40˚C before. I recall as a child in Edmonton experiencing hot days. August could get remarkably hot, but my family tells me those would have been in the 80s, possibly low 90s. And yet, I distinctly recall marvelling at a thermometer showing 110˚F. (That was obviously before Canada switched to the metric system, which happened when I was in Grade 6.) Now that I think about it, that was probably during our regular summer travel to Saskatchewan and Manitoba, the Canadian interior where yes, it could get that hot. But Edmonton is really dry, so summers never felt excessively hot when I was a kid, a bit of breeze would cool you down and dry you off right away, and in any case really hot days usually meant thunderstorms at night so there was that to look forward to. Much worse were my summers in Boston, with its 100% humidity. I just stopped going outside in July and much of August. Yay, air conditioning.

Of course we have air conditioning in Braga, this Irish redhead wasn’t about to move here without it. And for us, the heat wave has been manageable. But even with AC, it’s not easy. The air is heavy even when artificially cooled, and I can build up a sweat just walking quickly through the apartment. The shades are down almost all the time, so I have no idea what the light is like outside, and it’s easy to feel trapped and restless. And when I do go out it feels hot but manageable if I move slowly, but I’ve noticed I tend to fall asleep after getting home and cooling down.

Yes, I’ve embraced siesta culture. It sort of happens naturally after a while. The heat is so draining you just fall asleep in the afternoon, wake up more refreshed in time for dinner, then go out late at night when it’s much more comfortable. It’s not a bad rhythm for the day, once you get used to it.

And Portuguese life goes on. The Festa de Sāo Joāo happened during the second heat wave, and I seemed to be the only person in Braga who stayed home. During last week’s high temperatures, the locals still gathered in bars and in the Praça Republica to watch the World Cup on outdoor screens. We took a jaunt up to the Spanish border this past weekend to sit in the shade by the Minho River and drink cold white wine at the Alvarinho Wine Fair in Monçāo. You adapt.

I can afford that point of view, I’m a privileged sort-of-retiree. But I worry. Only 10% of people in Portugal have AC, and how much do you want to bet a lot of them are expats? Or the very wealthy? Climate change is getting worse, and Europe is being hit the hardest. People die every time one of these heat waves hits. And the heat is only part of it, I read articles regularly about the AMOC (Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation), the massive system of ocean currents in the Atlantic that acts as a global conveyor belt. It’s on the verge of collapse, and there’s a 1 in 3 chance it’s already past the point of no return. If it goes, Portugal will become a VERY different place.

This week is better, up in the high 20s (80s for Americans). It’s amazing how much cooler that feels, when normally I’d be complaining about it. But instead I have the windows open to air the place out, and we’re out enjoying the public gardens and the flowers. This is the Portuguese summer I want to show my friends and family. But occasionally, I have to show them the cautionary tale as well.