Canicule.
The first time I heard the word, I honestly had no idea what it meant.
I pictured some French ceremony. White smoke rising from the Eiffel Tower. A new French leader being crowned. Maybe the term for summer holiday season.
Nope.
Instead, this diabolical little word represents some of the more miserable days we’ve experienced in France.
The official translation a heat wave.
Back home, a heat wave has an obvious solution. Air conditioning. A popsicle. A giant glass of lemonade overflowing with ice.
In France?
Apparently the French don’t really believe in air conditioning.
I’ve heard all the reasons:
“It makes you sick.”
“It’s bad for the environment.”
“It ruins the aesthetics of the buildings.”
Sure, there may be some truth to parts of that. But you know what is worse… dying of heat.
So there we sat in a 92°F living room while the heat wave swallowed the country.
That was two weeks ago. And now again France is being hit by another unusually hot stretch. Lucky for us we are in the U.S.A. with central cooling on ever corner.
Our third canicule in just a few months.
It’s officially been one year since moving to France, and I have to admit there are still things the French do that completely confuse me.
This is probably at the top of the list.
I understand that 10 or 20 years ago summers weren’t this hot. But they are now. The frustrating part isn’t even the heat itself. It’s that there’s no real escape.
You leave the windows open at night to cool the apartment. Then the mosquitoes come in. So what do you do… Close the windows and you roast as the heat continues to rise. Open the windows and you become dinner.
When there’s such an obvious solution for comfortable sleep, happier people, better productivity, I struggle to understand why air conditioning hasn’t been more widely adopted, despite the small downsides.
I guess that’s my American side showing. More than one coworker has reminded me of that.
Now, don’t get me wrong.
I’m no stranger to heat.
I love being outside. I love hiking. I love working in the yard. I don’t even mind sweating all day. In fact there is nothing better than a workout where you have to wring your shirt out after!
But at the end of that day? I want to walk into a cold room and a glass of ice water, and to feel completely rested when I wake up.
Now, you may be wondering how I know our apartment was 92 degrees.
Because I became completely obsessed. Over two weeks I took what had to be more than a thousand temperature readings.
Front walls. Back walls. Outside walls. Inside walls. The sidewalk. The balcony. The bedroom. The kitchen. The living room.
The exterior walls reached around 135°F (57°C) in the afternoon. The sidewalks weren’t much different. The living room regularly climbed above 92°F, while the interior walls peaked at 98°F
Meanwhile, our little portable air conditioners ran almost nonstop just trying to get the bedroom into the mid-70s. Portable units are common here, and while they absolutely helped, they’re nothing like the central air systems we’re used to in the United States.
Honestly it felt like for a few day there, it was less about comfort, and more about surviving.
Our survival tactics became pretty creative.
Wet washcloths on our heads before bed. Kids eating endless popsicles. Feet soaking in cold water. Wearing wet clothes. Everyone sitting around the portable AC. Strategically opening and closing shutters. Opening windows at exactly the right hour. Closing them before the heat rolled back in. Running fans. Checking weather apps. Checking indoor thermometers. Checking outdoor thermometers.
Repeat. Over and over, for 10 days.
It honestly became a full-time hobby…
Thankfully, we’re back in America for five weeks (instead of the originally planned 4)
When Hailey first suggested extending the trip, I wasn’t completely sold.
Now? I can’t thank her enough!
Back to the land of air conditioning. Ice. Cold grocery stores. Cold restaurants. Cold hotels. Cold everything.
It’s funny the things you start appreciating once they’re gone.
Now, before this turns into one giant anti-France rant…
There are actually a lot of things we’ve grown to love.
The vacation time is incredible.
Eight weeks of vacation is hard to argue with.
I’ve become much better about shutting down work after six o’clock, and our family has made a real effort to travel whenever we can.
Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
We’ve taken trips we never would’ve taken living in Houston.
We’ve become closer because of it.
Living abroad isn’t always easy. Even in a developed country like France, there are countless little frustrations that slowly wear on you. Language. Paperwork. Banking. Healthcare.
Things that should take five minutes somehow take three weeks. But I guess that is part of the experience.
And it is not all bad… I genuinely enjoy biking to work. Even if showing up sweaty to an office with limited air conditioning isn’t ideal.
The food quality is outstanding, but I do still miss the convenience (and selection) ofH-E-B.
France is incredibly diverse geographically. Within a couple hours you can reach beaches, mountains, vineyards, forests, or historic villages. The history is everywhere. Sometimes you simply walk across a bridge that’s older than your country.
That’s pretty incredible.
So after one full year…
What have I learned? France has been an experience.
It’s challenged us. It’s frustrated us. It’s stretched us. It’s made our family stronger.
And after the second summer, I think France is going to have to embrace air conditioning sooner rather than later.
These heat waves aren’t going away.
And while some people argue that air conditioning is part of the problem…
I suspect having millions of people sleeping comfortably instead of baking through the night might actually be worth it.
Higher productivity. Better moods. Fewer mosquito bites.
Seems like a pretty good trade.
Until then…
Canicule… you are the worst!
