I last posted at the end of June. I wrote that it was 34c, the hottest June day on record in the UK. More than six weeks on, nothing has changed. That same temperature, 34c, is projected for London by the end of this week. It may even go higher. It has hardly rained a drop during that time.

We went up to town a few days ago to see an ex-colleague at the British Library, and then to the Royal Academy, to view a small exhibition of Richard Dadd’s paintings and drawings. As my friend Kate put it: “A sad life but stunning work”.

It began as a very pleasant English summer’s day: mid 20s, slight breeze, perfect. Only the yellow expanses of the ironically named Green Park indicated that were not enjoying the temperate summers of my youth. It got hotter and hotter, until walking the streets of London became an ordeal.

It was the hottest July on record. There is a hosepipe ban (not a novelty in the South-East) across large parts of England, and even in Wales. Wisley in Surrey has had no rain at all for nearly 60 consecutive days. Wildfires and drought in North Wales? I never thought I’d see the day.

But across the Channel

Last month we took our third trip to La Bréchoire this year. I recommend travelling on Bastille Day (14 July): the roads were empty.

It had rained heavily over the winter, as here, so in June we had a green lawn – more weeds than grass, but green. It was very different this time: scorching temperatures and rock-hard ground. Anticipating roasting heat, we had brought an inflatable pool over from England. Not bad for 50 quid: eight feet in diameter and deep enough to sit in up to your chest. It was lovely until it occurred to me that not having a pump or changing the water for three days might constitute a health hazard.

It took long enough to fill, and emptying it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Eventually, over 300 gallons of water disappeared into the ground leaving no trace. A few days later tell-tale patches of green appeared within the brown desert of what we used to call the lawn. We watered the plants from time to time, but is there any point? Our next trip will not be until October and there might not be much left to water by then.

News was all about the wildfires

It’s a shock when you see places you know on fire. Lacanau, Biscarosse, Arcachon: we’ve had camping holidays at all of them. Almost as bad as the TV images, was that we could see and smell smoke from west of Bordeaux – over 100 miles away. For a while it seemed that Bordeaux might be evacuated. Is such a thing even possible?

It was not long ago that people were worrying about their gardens, which seems pretty insignificant when farmers are looking at bone-dry fields. “Supply and demand” tells us that food prices will be going up. But what about people who can hardly afford to eat as it is?

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Suddenly it started to hail

We were sitting on the terrace under a canopy when we felt a violent gust of wind. Seconds later hailstones, big enough to hurt, started to fall. We took the canopy down and ran indoors to hear the clattering of the hail on the velux windows. Twenty minutes later it was over. Our neighbours lost over 50 hectares of vines in a few minutes, and they was not alone. Coming on top of the drought, it was a bad blow to local farmers.

I’ll leave off being the harbinger of doom

It wasn’t all bad (as I am neither a farmer nor a fireman). We adapted to the heat to some extent and had a lovely day at the seaside, at Fouras, eating oysters and sea-bathing as one should. On the way back to Blighty we stopped at Saint-Malo and had a beautiful trip across the estuary to the Anglophile resort of Dinard. Brittany is perfect in summer. It really has all you need.

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Apart from the weather, it’s a been good summer at home.

A fair bit of socialising. Still swimming and going to the gym, when here. A (surprisingly) good World Cup, which we watched in France and the UK. No music for mw as Bern is still recovering from his op, but Anne took part in a piano concert. In May I became acting editor of Herne Hill magazine. I quite enjoyed it so I have agreed to do the next issue, but no more. Too much else in the pipeline.

We have been to the cinema a few times – the best film so far being, without doubt, The Invite, directed by Olivia Wilde. Very clever script and very funny – and also not too long. Speaking of which, we’ve booked to see The Odyssey at the IMAX. Judging by what I’ve read, I am not sure whether I’ll love it our hate it. Or both. The wedding anniversary (36, since you ask) treat was a night out at 58th Street – an immersive experience in trendy Peckham that’s hard to describe in a few words! Great fun, brilliant performers and surprisingly good food. More live shows have been booked, but I somehow doubt that The Oresteia will be such a laugh.

So, tonight will see one of the greatest live shows of all; a solar eclipse. Unfortunately not a total eclipse in London (we did think of going to Spain, but too hot), but at least there’s no risk of clouds getting in the way.