Thread by @xr_cambridge

A message thread from a friend of XR Cambridge from the heat danger zone in northern Spain, describing his experience of the heat today: "It feels like I’m drowning. Drowning in heat but there is nowhere to swim, no surface to break through, the air the thing that chokes." 🧵

"The inevitability is weird. You know it's coming. You prepare as best you can, but you know you can’t escape the blast wave. It’s coming."

"By 11am the bolus of heat surrounds everything thickly. I close all the windows and blinds. The fan is on. By midday it’s hotter outside than in, even though inside hasn’t cooled down that much. The test of endurance begins."

"I scuttle outside occasionally to check the thermometer in the shade. 30C at 11am. 35C at 1pm. 41C at 5pm. I wonder how high it can go. Sometimes I think maybe it’ll just keep rising, maybe today is the day. The frogs, the pan."

"Working at my laptop I’m light-headed. Anything above the body’s core temperature of 37.7C and I'll be under real strain. The thick stone walls keep the house 10 degrees cooler than outside. I should be ok (i.e. my organs shouldn’t start to cook) until about 47C outside."

"Eating isn’t fun. Digesting food raises body temperature and is an additional task for my system to accomplish, alongside its main job right now of stopping me overheating. So I eat very early, very late. That throws out my whole day. And night. Sleep. Oh sleep."

"Well, forget a good night’s sleep. Even under a fan, next to a window, with a warm breeze, naked. Those thick stones walls that keep the heat out in the day radiate the heat back into the house at night. Not fun."

"The animals. By late afternoon the birds have stopped singing, conserving energy, warding off thermal stress. The only sound is the cicadas. They seem ok. Maybe they’ll survive a hothouse Earth."

"The dogs and the cats are not ok. The dogs lying splayed out panting on the tiled floor. I dab cold water on their paws, put ice cubes in their water bowl. Even the cats pant after coming inside. I hate this for them."

"I creep outside to scan the valley and the horizon for smoke. I regularly check the fire alert service. Wildfires have started today not that far away. The horizon trembles in heat. But there’s no smoke for now."

"The sun begins to set. I carefully judge when to open the shutters and windows. Too soon, and the house heats up. I labour out to the tomatoes, assessing any heat damage. The leaves have surrendered, but they should perk up over night after watering. But they have limits too."

"It’s 10pm and 34C. It has been a slog. The heat takes everything of you. Then I think about the people in India and Pakistan, suffering months of 40C+. Days of 50C. I want to rage for them. But I have no energy."

"I think how many more people will go through this and so much worse in the coming years. How many will suffer, how many will die. I think about my obligations at this time of a great dying, of what must be done."

"But thoughts of laughable net zero, the fossil fuel criminals, the demented economic growth system, wealth, power, of protest, revolution, all quickly recede. Right now there is only survival. I’m mentally preparing to go again tomorrow. Because tomorrow will be hotter."