The mercury hit 42 degrees in the shade this Tuesday, and Paris did what any sensible city would do: it banned the sale of alcohol. As the deadly heatwave that has already claimed hundreds of lives across Europe shifts east, the French capital's prefecture issued an emergency decree forbidding the sale of takeaway booze, lest the city's café dwellers compound dehydration with a beer buzz. Meanwhile, public health officials in London are advising the elderly to drink water 'little and often', a phrase that has become the unofficial mantra of this sweltering summer.
But behind the headlines and the official guidance lies a more uncomfortable truth. We are a society that has never known how to drink properly. Not in the heat, not in the cold, not in the pub.
The ban in Paris is not just a logistical measure. It is a cultural admission that when the sun tries to kill us, we reach for a pastis rather than a pint of water. The human cost is mounting.
In the UK, hospitals are reporting a surge in admissions for heat exhaustion, particularly among the over-75s. But the real shift is happening on the streets, where the once bustling terraces of Soho are now eerily quiet. The British public, it seems, has finally taken the advice to heart.
Or at least, to the bottle. The hydration response, as officials call it, is a national exercise in self-awareness. We are learning that water is not just for washing, and that a pint of lager in the midday sun is a gamble with a very short odds.
As the heatwave progresses, the cultural shift is undeniable. The ritual of the pre-dinner drink is being replaced by the pre-evening rehydration session. It is a small change, but it speaks to a larger truth.
We are a society learning to adapt to a world that is getting hotter. And sometimes, the most radical thing you can do is drink a glass of water.
