What a difference a month makes. Last month we were all revelling in the fact that after a thoroughly rotten start to 2026 (when it rained for 54 days straight), the sun finally came out. May was awful – wet, windy and cold – so when the season got itself sorted it was celebrated throughout the land. Fast forward to one month later and the whole country was roasting and complaining about the heat. Well, ye all were. I personally delight in hot weather. 30 degrees Celsius is my favourite temperature. In fact, there’s a part of me that doesn’t really wake up until the thermometer hits 26 degrees Celsius. It’s as if I get a totally new personality. I blame it on the fact that I spent the first five years of my life in a hot country. Or maybe it’s genetic and being half Spanish, half Italian. The cold slows me down until by January, I’m like a broken wind-up toy that’s been abandoned in a corner. Heat and sunshine make me want to get up early and get outside. It also makes me want to have lovely mid-afternoon siestas with the shades down, to the lullaby of a whirring fan.
In fairness we have it easier in West Cork. The Atlantic is never far away, and a sea breeze is almost always blowing. We have green fields and parks, with trees for shade. 30 degrees Celsius in an office with no AC, or when you need to commute using the Underground or Metro can be a taste of hell. I was in Madrid a few years ago when the temperature was 35 degrees Celsius at 11 o’clock at night and it was definitely challenging. When I see that Paris reached temperatures of over 40 degrees, I can’t help but feel sorry for those living in buildings that were not meant for the heat. A garret room at the top of a chic Parisian apartment can seem romantic until the temperature turns the charming ‘chambre de bonne’ into an oven. I watched a clip of a man frying an egg in a pan that he left out on his tiny balcony in Paris. He then proceeded to pop some popcorn!
The problem, like our reactions to any extreme weather, be it storms, freezing weather, or excessive rain; is that we are not prepared. The heat is easier to deal with in Spain because the houses are built for it. People have AC or at least an army of fans. They know to drink loads of water, take lots of showers and to wear light, loose clothing. When I was visiting my cousins in Spain during a major heatwave we spent all day indoors in the dark with several fans going, sipping lots of cold drinks and eating cold, light meals. We did not venture out until after dark when my cousin would hose down the walls of the house and the patios and courtyards to cool everything down.
The forecast for July is mixed – some good weather, some showers. It looks like we won’t be seeing really high temperatures again, which will suit most of the tourists that are starting to arrive on our shores. So far there has been a 30 percent increase in visitors this year. It seems that many of them are coming to Ireland precisely because it does not get hot and rains quite a lot. ‘Coolcations’ are becoming trendy with northern countries such as Ireland and Scandinavia, drawing holidaymakers escaping the heat in their own countries. One person’s ‘roasting’ is another person’s ‘cool’. Even June’s heatwave felt pleasant to visitors whose homes were scorching at over 40 degrees. I kept meeting tourists who were delighted with our ‘Irish heatwave’.
The next decade will see temperatures continue to rise around the planet. Ireland will break the record of 33.3 degrees Celsius (Recorded in June 1887, in County Kilkenny), and we will probably see 35 degrees in a few years. Maybe even next summer. However, according to meteorologists it is unlikely that temperatures in Ireland will ever exceed 40 degrees Celsius. Or at least, not before the end of the century. Which is good news for the tourism sector. I predict that we will soon see adverts in the Med, encouraging people to come and cool off on the Wild Wet and Windy Atlantic Way. Imagine that: Tourists coming to Ireland for the weather!
