La clim

Almost three decades after moving to France I have finally done it. Got the thing I swore I could not live without yet somehow managed to survive sans all these years.

When we first decided to move outre-Atlantique, discovering that France is a country where people live, for the most part, without air conditioning gave me pause.

“No A/C? Seriously? But it gets hot in the summer. How do you sleep?”

The answers were always nonchalant. Prefaced with a Gallic shrug. It’s no big deal. We open the windows. Close the shutters during the day to keep the sun out. Go away on holiday to the sea.

I had little choice but to give it a try. Adapting to life in a new country while working and raising a family took every bit of my energy. But I have sweated my way through too many French summers. Struggled for years to understand why there are no screens on windows, except for a few especially mosquito-prone regions. Kicked off the duvet and the sheet and slept in my birthday suit as the curtains billowed in the breeze. Worse, as not a breath of air stirred the still heat of an August night in the furnace of a city apartment. And I still don’t understand why the French don’t have air conditioning.

For some reason people here always found the idea of a Canadian coming to France and demanding air conditioning funny. I’m not sure why. Any humour in the situation completely sailed over my over-heated head. I’ve posted before about my faulty thermostat. In my family we go lobster red as soon as the temperature hits 25C (75F) and don’t cool down until the first snow.

I tried to explain to my French friends and family that in Toronto we are less concerned about the cold in winter than the heat of summer. “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity,” I said, trotting out the old refrain from my childhood. My arguments fell on deaf ears.

Mais…it’s only for a few months a year.
So’s winter.
Oui, mais… we are generally away on vacation for a month.
That still leaves two months.
Oui, mais… the really hot weather only lasts a few weeks.
Define hot.
Yes but it’s expensive. It’s a waste of energy. It’s unhealthy. It makes you sick.

In fact the only thing that held me back, other than the cost, was believing that it wouldn’t be effective, would be too noisy or create a different set of problems.

Then, last year, we sweated through our hottest summer yet in the Haute Savoie. This is far from being France’s hottest region but let me tell you, it was warm. Most nights found me tossing and turning and finally sleeping in the basement. I skived off work most afternoons as the temperature in my office on the second floor became unbearable.

This April, I began to look for a supplier of ‘climatisation’. Found two in our area, one of which actually showed up, told me it was entirely feasible to cool the two hottest rooms of our house and provided a quote for a split system – that is, with an outside unit on the balcony and an inside unit up on the wall.

To my considerable amazement, we now have two of these systems in our house. They are quiet and efficient. The temperature is comfortably maintained at 22 C.

I would be tempted to break into the hallelujah chorus at this point but for the fact that the weather has so far been cooler than expected. As mentioned in last week’s post, I turned on the A/C anyway. And last weekend we had a massive hail storm.

But I won’t let it rain on my parade. The advantage of a split system is that it also does heating.

Bring it on!