There was a forest fire here yesterday – right behind our apartment. The hillside with path leading up to the chapel is covered in old olive trees, scented pines, and scrub, and there are lovely views looking down onto farms and vineyards below. However, with little rain and scorching sunshine for months now, the vegetation is tinder dry and late afternoon yesterday the hillside was enveloped in billowing clouds of smoke. We were first alerted to it by a neighbour knocking on our door and telling us to pack all our papers, in case we had to evacuate. This was followed seconds later by a deafening roar of helicopters and aircrafts zooming by overhead and causing the windows to shake. I sent my two sons out to reconnoitre while I panicked as to what to do. We have no furniture yet, just plastic garden chairs rescued from the roadside, my concern was the paintings I had set out to dry all around walls of the room. After hurriedly packing them into some large boxes and reassuring our puzzled, but thankfully not frightened, cat I went out to see what was happening for myself. Small crowds of people were gathered watching, wondering what to do, as the aircraft sprayed what appeared to be red dust (in fact a mixture of fire retardant chemicals) on the blaze.
Amazingly, it only took minutes – well, about ten – for the rescue services to get the situation under control. But then, forest fires unfortunately are a regular occurrence in the Var in summer, and the fire services here are on constant alert and well rehearsed as to what action to take. A striking contrast after moving over from Cornwall, England where in recent summers flood damage has been a major problem!