What in the World, a free weekly newsletter from our foreign correspondents, is sent every Thursday. Below is an excerpt. Sign up to get the whole newsletter delivered to your inbox.

Bordeaux: The heat and smoke are stifling as soon as I leave the chilled air of a wine bar and walk towards the Grand Theatre in the heart of Bordeaux.

The temperature has just reached 39 degrees, and the air feels thicker than it did when I went into a meeting less than an hour ago. The wind has changed direction and swept the wildfire smoke back through the city streets.

It wasn’t like this earlier in the day, when the air was fairly clear and hundreds of people walked through the shopping district as they would on any other morning. Now, it seems one in every 10 pedestrians is wearing a mask.

Zoe Stephant, 28, an office worker, is one of them as she wheels her bike past the historic theatre. “I feel very anxious because it affects everyone,” she says of the smoke. “And I wonder why no one wears masks – because we can all smell it, right?”

The air reminds me of Canberra in the early days of January 2020, when the smoke from the Black Summer fires choked the capital. It does not seem as bad in Bordeaux, but the city is tense.

“It’s a f---ing disaster,” Stephant says. “I don’t know what else to say: a lot of my friends, as well as me, we don’t sleep very well, and we are very concerned.”

There has been some good news. Thousands of residents have returned to their neighbourhoods on the edge of Bordeaux, their homes spared from the flames.

The fire itself remains an immense challenge in the pine forests west of the city, but the total burnt area is still 42,000 hectares – about the same as it was 24 hours earlier.

So the reality of the fire is more complex than the global headlines suggest.

I have seen the impact of the emergency on hundreds of evacuees who sleep on camp beds at an exhibition hall after fleeing their homes.

But I can also see the way Bordeaux is getting on with life – and how the community will only suffer more if the world thinks it has all been burnt.

Christophe Chateau, the communications director at the Bordeaux Wine Council, is worried that people are staying away from vineyards and wineries that are nowhere near the flames.

“At this time, no wineries have been impacted by the fire,” he tells me.

“The fire started far away from the vines, and we have no trouble. The impact is going to be on the economy, especially on tourism.”

The empty chairs are a sad sight in the cafes and restaurants along the old streets of this city.

On Sunday, local political leader Sophie Brocas told tourists to stay away from Gironde – an entire regional government area in south-west France that includes the coastal towns where the fire began. On Monday, the message changed, and most parts of the region were declared safe. But it was too late.

In fact, famous wine-growing districts such as Saint-Emilion are distant from the fire. There are headlines about grapes being damaged by smoke, but Chateau says the wines were fine after bad fires in 2022.

In this flat country, he says, smoke is blown away swiftly. And the 2023 vintage, just after those fires, seems to be highly regarded.

What does Chateau say to travellers who are worried by the headlines?

“Please come to Bordeaux,” he tells me over a glass of water. “If you go to places like Saint-Emilion, or Sauternes, or Blaye, there is no problem with fire at all. Or smoke. You will not feel the smoke.”

The human toll from this fire is already severe. Two firefighters have died, 240 homes have been destroyed and 220,000 people have been evacuated.

The Gironde fire is the worst in France in living memory, and scientists warn that Europe can expect more disasters due to climate change. Spain, Italy, Greece and other countries have to deal with the same problem.

Communities will have to adapt. The pine plantations west of Bordeaux seem unlikely to be replanted after they burst into flames over the past week. (Until the late 19th century, the area was marshland rather than forest). And the winemakers know they have to adjust to a warming climate.

Chateau tells me the harvest date for Sauvignon Blanc was around September 10 when he started in the industry three decades ago. This year it could be August 20.

Everyone adjusts in their own way, as I see while walking through the heat and smoke on Wednesday night (Bordeaux time). A young man jogs past me, not bothering with a mask. A woman walks by with two children, all of them masked. For the most part, young people stand in the full sun without a care. France clearly does not have a “slip, slop, slap” advertising campaign about sunblock and summer hats. I wonder when that will change.

The economic damage from this fire will be measured in billions of euros from the destruction of property, the suspension of 13,000 companies during the evacuations and the collapse in tourism. While I can’t recommend a visit to Bordeaux while the fire rages in 39-degree heat, I would hate to see the city and the region shunned by travellers. And just as I finished writing this, it began to rain. Let’s hope it gives firefighters a reprieve.

Chateau tells me that Bordeaux recovered after the 2022 fires, and it can do it again. But it will want visitors to return to help make it happen.

Get a note directly from our foreign correspondents on what’s making headlines around the world. Sign up for our weekly What in the World newsletter.