With its 30 ° C and its bright sun, Paris could almost make us forget that the coronavirus epidemic does not make the bridge of the Ascension. We carried out counts this Thursday in 10 symbolic places, reputed to attract crowds as soon as the weather is fine. Result: the wearing of the mask, compulsory in transport but only recommended in public space, is very minority in Paris. Out of 2,200 walkers, only 10% are equipped with it.
Our walk begins at midday at the foot of the Sacré-Coeur in the 18th arrondissement of the capital. Only a quarter of the onlookers have their faces covered, while a soloist unexpectedly joins the guitarist accustomed to the places for an interpretation of "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley. Pilar, a Spanish woman who lives in Mantes-la-Jolie (Yvelines), takes advantage of it alone, protected by a flowery fabric. "People pass less than a meter without paying attention to me," she regrets. I needed to get some fresh air and I'm going back in July, so I'm enjoying Paris. "
Emma and Nicolas, 22 and 21, have a few beers on the most famous steps in Paname. "We picnic, but otherwise we wear the mask," explains the young man. We are medical students, so we are well aware of the danger. "I'm a little afraid of contaminating him," admits his friend. We were careful to put ourselves in a place with not too many people. When I saw the images of the crowded Invalides yesterday (Wednesday), I wanted to hit people. "
On the road to the esplanade evacuated the day before, we make a detour via the Champs-Elysées. A mask around his neck, a walker explains "put it back on when he enters a business". Two streets away, a group of police officers appear with their faces uncovered.
"The French all wanted masks, but now that they have them ..."
At the Invalides (7th), as at the Champ-de-Mars and the Trocadéro (16th), at nap time, the virus is far from the minds of visitors. Groups are more than a meter apart, in general, but families or friends are intoxicated by the reunion. "We had planned to come here and we were afraid that it would be closed when we saw the police," explains Nay, lying near two friends. We take precautions, we put masks on transport, but not when we are together. A patrol will call them to order because they are ... in swimsuits!
At the foot of the Eiffel Tower, Arlène, a lawyer in his fifties, feels very alone behind his beige satin fabric: “I respect the instructions. I am very surprised to see so few people doing the same. I did 10 km from Bastille and I saw a lot of people on the docks. The French all wanted masks, but now that they have them, they don't put them on. "
At the foot of the "Troca", a group of nine friends finished having lunch on the grass without distancing. “It's already quite stressful to be a Parisian, exonerates Thomas. We telecommute, we each brought our picnic and we didn't kiss each other. We take less risk than if we had an aperitif at home. "It's even more difficult when you are tactile," shouts Thomas, languid next to him. On the golden esplanade, Nathan organizes a balloon release with a small group of fifteen very well dressed teenage friends. "It's time to be a man", says the cake he is brandishing. Not to wear the mask, however.
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At the other end of Paris, among skaters and champions of the rear wheel on a mountain bike from Place de la République, on the edge of the 3rd, 10th and 11th arrondissements, Lilou, a schoolgirl, is one of the exceptions. "It's not easy to breathe with it, but hey, I make a little less effort than the boys," smiled the masked young lady. His comrade, him, relieved of all protection on the mouth discreet cheek: "Do not write my name, I promised my parents that I would wear it." Maud, 27, very close to his companion but who keeps a good distance from onlookers, puts his piece of cloth in his bag. "I put it on the subway," she says.
"It's too hot"
On the pretty Place Georges-Moustaki (Ve), at the bottom of the Mouffetard district, the ice cream seller slightly replenishes his boxes. In the outside queue, more than half of the customers are without masks. Away, Christiane, 78, enjoys the sun, her mouth and nose perfectly concealed. "Look, it's not just young people who don't wear masks," she comments, pointing to white-haired bipeds. They do not measure the danger, for them, it only happens to others. "
Sabine, 82, stored her mask in her bag alongside her bottle of hydroalcoholic gel. "It's too hot, it breaks my feet. Maybe I'm taking risks. But you know, I have never been sick in my life except for the flu at 12 years old. I have a lot of antibodies, I feel stronger… ”
The palm of deconfinement returns to the banks of rivers and wide open spaces. Along the Saint-Martin canal (10th arrondissement), at snack time, relaxation is even more evident. Sitting cross-legged or lying flat on a pareo at the water's edge, most of these Parisians, sometimes in mini-clusters, take a good breath of summer air without camouflage. "Outside, we don't have the reflex to protect ourselves," says Fanny, who rolls up her sleeves in the recruitment sector.
"But we don't kiss each other," continues his girlfriend. "We know it is not over, we are aware that we can contaminate each other but we will not stop living," they say. Myriam, a kindergarten teacher, is very loyal to her face protection. "I'm still at my parents' house, I don't want to bring this cowery home," she insists.
"If it was mandatory, I would do it"
At the same time, the Bois de Boulogne is overcrowded, between mölkky players, families in search of a pony ride and groups of four to ten people. "It's unpleasant, we're hot, but we feel more secure," says a mother with a covered face, like her family. My daughter is going to take a competition, now is not the time to get sick. But we have the impression of being the only ones to pay attention… ”“ If it were compulsory, I would do it ”, assures Martin, a father.
On the banks of the Seine, opposite Notre-Dame (I), hundreds of city dwellers refresh themselves, around 8 p.m., the throat ... obviously without a mask. For aperitifs, beer and rosé packs are on the rise. We meet a lot of young people, but also families with strollers, a shisha smoker and a group of eleven friends - one more than the authorized limit - happy to be together but angry with the safety distances.
