Paris Plage: sun, sand & Seine

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Paris Plage: sun, sand & Seine
They say that only ‘mad dogs and Englishmen’ go out in the midday sun. Not any more. It’s high summer here in Paris, and the authorities have again decreed that if the French won’t leave Paris to go to the beach, the beach must come to them… And it has. And how. Two thousand tons of sand brought over from (wait for it) Sandrancourt, Yvelines, and lovingly spread out to form the third and largest of the three beaches set out along the Seine this summer. The Paris Plage site is free and officially open from now until 20 August; daily hours from 7.00 am to midnight, with events running between 9.00 am and 10.30 pm. There’s access for the disabled. I jumped in on the action right at the start, at Quay du Louvre, just after Pont des Arts in the 1st Arr., and strolled down to the potted palm trees to see a beautifully chilled out, martial-arts-related Oriental exercise program called Tai Chi Chuan taking place. This is a gentle, spiritual, slow-motion Oriental exercise in which older people delicately practise taking the younger generation apart limb by limb. I had a scary feeling that once the oldies had the moves perfected, they would be capable of repeating them at ten times the speed, utilising unlimited inner strength, and destroying muggers and spoilt grandchildren with a couple of firm chops. Still, it keeps them active. One way or the other, it did look relaxing and enjoyable for anybody who doesn’t want to spend too much energy (or any money). The program takes place every morning between 10.00 and 12.00, although it’s so slow that it was still going strong at 12.40 when I first arrived, and at 12.41 when I got bored and left. The first of many little refreshment areas is here, serving beers, soda’s, coffee’s, sandwiches. There are also several tables, with menu dishes priced between seven to twelve euros. Also here is the first of seven fountains offering drinking water and the second activity: a huge climbing wall, bedecked with hand and foot grips, ropes and various other curious looking objects, put there for participants to cling to for dear life whilst grinning desperately down at the huge fall and all the laughing, camera wielding tourists. Now that’s fun! (If being driven up the wall by the French isn’t enough for you, the Climbing Wall is open Mon-Thu – 1.00PM-7.00PM; Fri – 1.00PM-8.00PM; Sat – 10.00AM-12.00PM/1.00PM-8.00PM; Sun – 10.00AM-12.00PM/1.00PM-6.00PM) Walk under Pont Neuf and you arrive at the first of the three beaches. This is a 500m elevated wooden beach, filled with deck-chairs. And the people here had the right idea. They were sprawled out, sleeping, dozing, reading, posing. Slurping drinks; licking ice-creams. Greasy, vain, ugly, flabby humanity doing what it has spent millions of years evolving itself to do best… absolutely nothing. Here on the Right Bank, by the Seine, in the sun, a bon rien. The kids here were either playing in the foot-operated shower (one for each beach), or in the stunning atomizer (Two on the Paris Beach; one outside Hotel de Ville.) This device, stretching out over 20m and fixed along the wall at the bottom-end of one of the walkways from the street above, sprays water so finely that it becomes a huge, soft cloud of cooling liquid. At midday, under a relentless sun, you can really appreciate a device like this; and just about everybody did. Along with boutiques and ice-cream stores, there are information points, first aid points, and around forty beach attendants scattered the length of the three beaches. Being French, of course, the Paris Plage is meticulously organised and very security conscious. The children’s sand area seemed a curiosity. Split into two sections; one for the children to play in, the other for a professional sculptor to create masterpieces from sand, you couldn’t help but wonder if this would have an effect on the kids’ self-esteem as they looked up from their crumbling castles to see a snooty Frenchman standing beside them, shaking his head at their crap efforts as his looming visions towered above them. The sculptor, sensing victory over the kids early on, really went for it, and created some amazing things, the best of which was a large sculpture of the upper-half of Spiderman, clinging to the top of a building. Beat that, petit enfant. I saw a girl of around four years of age, standing in her sand-pit, staring blankly up at the sculpture, her little bucket hanging limply in her hand. She stared for some time, then placed the bucket down and trudged over to her mommy. Another one bites the dust. Or the sand. None of the kids built anything that I saw. They just gave it up, the quitters. Under the Pont Au Change is the Green Beach: This second beach is 600m and planted with grass. The people here were doing exactly what the people on the first beach were doing, only on grass. And apart from the fact that there were 100m worth more of them on this beach, they looked exactly…
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