Paris already sees itself at the top of Olympus in 2024, but beware of the great barnum…
These 2024 Olympics, what a story! In Paris, in the middle of summer, perhaps in the middle of a heat wave. Is it such a good idea? Mystery. That said, there is no going back. We were too intrigued to have them. For those of 2012, we had taken a good slap with the victory of London. So we resubmitted our application. And there, bingo! All that remains for the Parisians is to endure the Stations of the Cross that present themselves. In the fall of the Universal Exhibition of 1900, Proust had gone to Venice. Too much noise, agitation, avatars in its routine. One night on the Orient-Express and he had put his fur coats on the Grand Canal. I understand. Me too, I’m scared. Of course, I’m not saying that. These days, saying you’re not crazy about sports is like saying you don’t like kids. Or that we don’t drink wine. We quickly pass for an original menacing. God forbid. Especially in France, where, now, sports references are sneaking in everywhere. On television, when they want to be understood by everyone, reporters no longer speak in hectares or cubic meters but in football pitches and Olympic swimming pools.
Besides, why quibble about these Games? The opening ceremony promises to be prodigious. Never seen. A huge carousel on the Seine. Two hundred boats, thousands of athletes and hundreds of thousands of spectators. Pure Louis XIV, true Grand Siècle entertainment. Even the sparrows will chirp in French. With Anne Hidalgo as hostess, if not mistress of ceremonies. To be honest, his presence doesn’t quite reassure me. No doubt she sees it as an opportunity to bounce back. And, indeed, with 2.2% of the Parisian vote in the presidential election, it cannot fall lower. But it worries me: this way of advancing boldly between precipices, of falling into them, of getting up radiant, reassuring, full of projects. There, frankly, there are too many. Urban forests, a Seine capable of making you thirsty, a “pacification” of the ring road, construction sites in all districts and, icing on the cake, this naval parade worthy of the doge renewing his engagement with the sea. ‘Anne Hidalgo wants to plant a very large oak tree in her small terracotta pot. Planting himself is a bit his thing.
If, at least, the other authorities reassured us! Instead, they say the sky could be falling. What took Gérald Darmanin to tell us about explosive drones that terrorists would project on the docks? No one thought of it. If he faces this new threat with the same efficiency as at the Stade de France on the evening of the Liverpool-Real Madrid match, hello damage. Instead of the river, it is the horizon that we will scrutinize during this party. We already miss the prefect Lallement. Especially since Anne Hidalgo, among her character traits, does not like surveillance cameras. The spectacle of tourists being robbed is beyond his strength. We will be asked to look elsewhere. Anyway, she will say at the end that the Games were a success. And all the authorities will confirm it: in 2022, as soon as something goes wrong, we are told that what we saw did not take place.
Also read. Paris 2024 Olympics: “There will be no Olympics tax”, promises Emmanuel Macron
I’m not talking about public transport. Why ? Because no manager mentions them as potential problem areas. Perhaps (probably) because the princes who prepare the party hardly borrow them. That said, can someone warn them that the RATP and the SNCF will be on strike on the opening day of the Games? As they were on the evening of the Champions League final, as they are on all holiday departures, as their traditions require. And inform them that in the summer, Covid or not Covid, the RATP is reducing its service? This hardly disturbs the ministers but, in Paris, in summer, the trains are twice as rare and as crowded as in the middle of winter. Fortunately, tickets will be expensive. At the opening ceremony, the price of seats will range from 24 to 950 euros! At that price, you might as well come by taxi. And let the show begin. To see on the spot behind his iPhone for the bravest. And on television, from afar, for Proustians.