I was traveling overnight by bus from Figueira da Foz in Portugal to Barcelona, with a transfer in Vigo, Spain. I had seen news reports about the wildfires in Spain last year, but they seemed so far away from Japan, where I’m from, so almost unreal. But at 2am on August the 18th, sat on that bus in the middle of nowhere, I checked my location on a map and saw that I was literally surrounded by multiple fires.

Fire trucks couldn’t reach the remote mountain road. Instead, firefighting planes had to drop water from the sky. It was the first time I had ever seen such a response, something I previously knew only from watching the news. The bus was only delayed for three hours, but for me, it wasn’t just a delay, it was the moment I felt the impact of climate change directly, and it felt terrifyingly real.

Wildfires in Spain and across southern Europe are becoming increasingly common. Spain, lying close to the equator, suffers from severe summer heat. For someone living in England, where skies are mostly gray and sun is a luxury we long for on holidays, the idea of heat feels positive. But for those living there, rising temperatures mean more than sunshine — they mean flames, and temperatures that rise to over 40 degrees.

More than 343,000 hectares of land have been destroyed this year in Spain – a record high. This experience has changed the way I think about climate change. I had always felt that climate change was impacting and damaging the earth and our lives, but the extreme heat was the only thing that directly affected me. However, it is no longer something abstract like polar bears on melting ice caps, but something that stops buses, shuts down trains, destroys forests, and threatens lives in Europe. Some firefighters have even died while carrying out their operation.

A friend from Barcelona told me she too had once been stranded on a bus during a trip from the Basque regions. She explained that many people are leaving the countryside for cities, and with fewer people living in rural areas, the land is no longer being properly managed. In the past, people knew how to take care of nature to prevent wildfires, but now, with fewer residents, that knowledge and acreage is disappearing. The lack of maintenance makes the land more vulnerable to fire.

This summer, I’ve travelled across Europe, visiting many countries, and talking to locals. I’ve realised how attitudes toward climate change vary; some people see it as an urgent crisis, others as a distant problem. We often don’t recognise the need to act until we experience it ourselves, and even for those who do, taking action is not easy. Stronger regulations, along with a more inclusive approach that brings together people, governments, and businesses, is crucial.

At 2am in the middle of the night, the bus driver suddenly shouted something in Spanish, ordering us to get off. I don’t speak Spanish, so I just sat there still, not knowing what to do, until the woman sitting next to me, who was from Spain, translated: “We have to stop because of wildfire. The road is closed. We don’t know when we’ll be able to move again.”

I was traveling overnight by bus from Figueira da Foz in Portugal to Barcelona, with a transfer in Vigo, Spain. I had seen news reports about the wildfires in Spain last year, but they seemed so far away from Japan, where I’m from, so almost unreal. But at 2am on August the 18th, sat on that bus in the middle of nowhere, I checked my location on a map and saw that I was literally surrounded by multiple fires.

Fire trucks couldn’t reach the remote mountain road. Instead, firefighting planes had to drop water from the sky. It was the first time I had ever seen such a response, something I previously knew only from watching the news. The bus was only delayed for three hours, but for me, it wasn’t just a delay, it was the moment I felt the impact of climate change directly, and it felt terrifyingly real.

Wildfires in Spain and across southern Europe are becoming increasingly common. Spain, lying close to the equator, suffers from severe summer heat. For someone living in England, where skies are mostly gray and sun is a luxury we long for on holidays, the idea of heat feels positive. But for those living there, rising temperatures mean more than sunshine — they mean flames, and temperatures that rise to over 40 degrees.

More than 343,000 hectares of land have been destroyed this year in Spain – a record high. This experience has changed the way I think about climate change. I had always felt that climate change was impacting and damaging the earth and our lives, but the extreme heat was the only thing that directly affected me. However, it is no longer something abstract like polar bears on melting ice caps, but something that stops buses, shuts down trains, destroys forests, and threatens lives in Europe. Some firefighters have even died while carrying out their operation.

A friend from Barcelona told me she too had once been stranded on a bus during a trip from the Basque regions. She explained that many people are leaving the countryside for cities, and with fewer people living in rural areas, the land is no longer being properly managed. In the past, people knew how to take care of nature to prevent wildfires, but now, with fewer residents, that knowledge and acreage is disappearing. The lack of maintenance makes the land more vulnerable to fire.

This summer, I’ve travelled across Europe, visiting many countries, and talking to locals. I’ve realised how attitudes toward climate change vary; some people see it as an urgent crisis, others as a distant problem. We often don’t recognise the need to act until we experience it ourselves, and even for those who do, taking action is not easy. Stronger regulations, along with a more inclusive approach that brings together people, governments, and businesses, is crucial.