熱波、ヨーロッパ。

Column|2026.9.14

Text_Toshinori Okada
Photo_Toshinori Okada


Heatwave, Europe.

In late June, I stayed in Lille as temperatures approached 40°C. Being dry, it lacked Japan’s humidity, making shade and breezes bearable. Still, 40°C is 40°C. Heat radiating off cobblestones shifted my focus from sightseeing to pure survival—no exaggeration. Pedestrian pace, conversations, and the city’s pulse slowed down.
Museums were a lifesaver. La Piscine Museum in nearby Roubaix opened for free to let people escape the heat. Cooling off beside its beautiful Art Deco pool, sculptures, and paintings felt like a luxurious sanctuary.
The real trouble started upon stepping outside. Air conditioning remains rare in French hotels and shops. In a cafe, a massive fan whirred, yet only circulated hot air. The beer I ordered stayed cold for just three sips—a complete disappointment.
Why is AC so rare in France? “They’re eco-conscious” is only half true. Adoption sits around 24% in 2025. Homes were built for cold winters, and retrofitting old apartments involves heavy red tape. It’s a mix of climate, architecture, and bureaucracy.
Still, environmental awareness is real. AC uses power, releases warming gases, and pumps indoor heat into the streets—a painful dilemma. Paris has responded with shade, fountains, and 1,400 designated “cool spots.”
Yet is it enough? June 2025 was France’s hottest June ever, with 40% of the land hitting 40°C. Europe warms twice as fast as the global average. Refusing AC is noble, but enduring heat isn’t a solution. The question now is where and how to use it to save lives.
France was right to resist AC. The trouble is, the planet couldn’t care less about that virtue.

熱波のなかのリールの街、人もまばら。

プールが涼しげなラ・ピシーヌ美術館。

リール駅前の女性像も、心なしか暑そう。