The heat right now is far from normal. There are those who post things on Facebook like ‘It’s summer, of course it’s hot’ or ‘They’re on purple and are running out of colours for the maps’ or (worse still) ‘It was much hotter twenty thousand years ago’. Silly remarks to try and make light of our current global warming.
Brought on, as much as anything (Mr Trump, are you reading this?) by burning fossil fuels. Drill, baby, drill indeed.
Spain has moved towards clean energy, whether solar, wind or geothermal, thank goodness. It wasn’t so long ago that the Partido Popular government had a ludicrous ‘sun tax’ to keep us burning diesel and gas.
I’m doing my bit – staying home and reading. Drinking plenty of water. Using the fan at night (apparently, it costs about six cents for an eight-hour breeze). The book I’m reading right now is a Hammond Innes thriller about people caught on the ice-flows of Antarctica. The Baddy is trying to kill them, and he has just rammed and sunk their whaling ship. It’s cold as Hell.
The heat is terrific. My phone says, ‘Tomorrow will be hotter’. I have to shower several times a day in cold water. The wild boar are attacking my orchard, digging up the roots and knocking down the stone terracing. Bastards!
But this is nothing. From my window I can see across the valley to Bédar, a small town I used to live in back in the seventies. It’s on fire. Smoke obscures the setting sun, and flames stretch along a corridor of maybe fifteen kilometres. Small flashing blue lights, and a helicopter overhead. I can see the sky glowing behind the mountains. The Facebook is alive with pictures and updates. Bédar has been evacuated and the townsfolk (it’s a small place) have been ordered inland to the next pueblo, Lubrín. They are in the municipal building there. Others have been sent to Los Gallardos below, but then that too became under threat. Movement on the A-7 motorway was cut by the police. Fire moves so very quickly. You can come round a bend in the road, and find it’s taken a short cut and is now both ahead of you as well as behind.
My son is a fire-fighter in America. He tells me on WhatsApp to be ready, to pack a bag with my passport and a change of clothes – and of course my Hammond Innes book. Close all the windows and shutters, and the interior doors. Be prepared. A friend from Bédar sends me a worrying message from where she lives, out in the campo: ‘Road in both directions blocked by flames. We’re out but there’s hardly anywhere to go. We stupidly waited too long’.
By midnight on Thursday, the authorities were talking about a dozen fatalities. People we know. Maybe my friend.
Updating this on Tuesday, The fire is out, the president of Spain and the President of Andalucía have had their pictures taken and my friend and her husband are among the now thirteen dead.