If I were a city, I almost certainly would not want to host the Olympics. So my thought last summer was that I would put my Paris apartment on Airbnb for an outrageous sum of money and leave the city – until friends from the US persuaded me to put them up for the duration of the Games. As the opening ceremony draws closer, I wonder if my initial reflex was too pessimistic.
Last week, as I stood along the Canal Saint-Martin as the Olympic flame passed by, I felt excitement finally creep in. And now I wonder whether other Parisians are feeling the same transformation take place.
All year long, there has been no shortage of grumbling about impending disruption to daily life and worries about logistics. Will the Seine be clean enough? Will transport infrastructure hold up? Will a dense city, parts of which can already feel crammed-in during normal summer tourism, be overwhelmed by the sheer number of people due to arrive? And perhaps more soberingly, will the Games go off without a security incident?
Tempered pessimism or tempered optimism, I can’t tell; less than two weeks before the Games begin, Parisians just seem … split. [Insert Gallic shrug].
In Les Acolytes, a laid-back cafe in the 10th arrondissement, Nathalie, who has worked there as a bartender for two and a half years, tells me she thinks Parisians are just too pessimistic in general, and not just about the Olympics. “I’m looking forward to meeting people who are coming from all around the world, and I’m happy to work this summer because I want to warmly welcome them,” she says. Then she points to another customer (it’s the kind of place that has regulars), adding: “But Johnny will give you the sceptic’s view.”
Johnny, a 32-year-old who works in marketing, thinks that while the Olympics could be “soft power for Paris”, it’s more likely to be a logistical nightmare. “The Métro is already packed – adding three, four times as many people to it?” Above all, he seems worried that visitors will come and find Paris to be more real than romantic fairytale.
Across the river, in the 13th arrondissement, Damien, who teaches high-school maths, has a different set of concerns. “I’ve loved the Games since I was a kid,” he admits – but he deplores the fact that ticket prices aren’t more affordable, the way that homeless people have been pushed to other cities, and the overall carbon footprint.
I share all of the concerns that I’ve heard fellow Parisians voicing, but here’s why I’m trending towards optimism.
Paris’s bid was based on using mainly existing sites for events, and as a result, the city has built very little specifically for the Olympics, opting instead for needed renovations and upgrades of historic sites, including the Grand Palais. New construction consists of an arena and an aquatic centre – both in low-income areas, and both of which will be fully or partly open to residents after the Olympics – along with the Olympic village in Saint-Denis, 30% of which will join the region’s public housing stock (in line with current averages for the city of Paris).
Additionally, the Olympics has dovetailed with already planned infrastructure projects, such as the €42bn (£35bn) Grand Paris Express – more than 120 miles of new, automated Métro lines connecting Paris’s suburbs directly to each other, and linking the city centre to both its airports. Plus, the Games has provided an additional push for the Métro to modernise its functionality, albeit imperfectly. (A personal pet peeve: after years of waiting, users can finally load à la carte Métro tickets on to iPhones, but not for RER suburban trains, meaning that you still need a paper ticket for a one-off trip to either airport.)
Finally, despite being the subject of derision, memes and protests, the city’s flagship proposal (cleaning up the Seine) has produced tangible results. As for the Games’ carbon footprint, official estimates are that they will be responsible for 1.5m tonnes of CO2 – the equivalent of 0.003% of global greenhouse gas emissions in 2021 (52.6bn tonnes). I offer the context not to make light of the urgency of tackling the climate crisis; but in a politically divided world, more than ever we need events that bring us all together. Sacrificing them won’t move us meaningfully closer to tackling the substance of global heating: electricity production, cars and agriculture.
Davina Chang, who opened the Hong Kong-themed coffee shop Bing Sutt in December 2022 in the upper Marais, adds economic concerns to the list of preoccupations. Specifically, she is worried about whether or not her business will actually experience enough of a boom to make up for all the other inconveniences. “Of course,” she continues, “it’s also a once-in-a-lifetime moment to live in the host city, and I have this heightened sense of Hong Kong pride to get to cheer on athletes from the city I grew up in.”
Overall, estimates are for a €9bn economic boost to the Paris region. I don’t want to downplay this, as many people who visit the Games may – like my two friends – extend their trip into other parts of France beyond Paris. If that number is achieved, it would more or less even out the financial cost-benefit. But let’s be real: France, the world’s most visited country, doesn’t exactly need additional advertising in order to draw tourists. The economics of hosting has always been the achilles heel of the Olympics. When Athens hosted them in 2004, the cost was ruinous – and now modern ruins lie juxtaposed with ancient ones.
Which brings me back to the way I opened this column. If I were a city, I wouldn’t want to host the Olympics, unless it was every Olympics.
The ancient Greek Games drew participants and spectators to the same place every time they were held – to the sanctuary city of Olympia, in the Peloponnese region. Why not send them back to Greece, permanently? Most of the complaints about the Olympics also come back to their one-off and ephemeral nature. Construction that falls into disuse; infrastructure that serves a two-week purpose, but perhaps doesn’t meet real local needs; disruption for the sake of consumption without a true and lasting link.
Setting the Games in Athens for ever – paid for by the International Olympic Committee – would mean true reusability for stadiums. The Olympic village could serve as student housing, temporarily vacated once every four years. Residents and merchants could build a true relationship with the Games and their organisers, who, in turn, would be invested over the long term in the best outcomes for the local community. A perennial partnership, a commitment to really playing for the same team.
Alexander Hurst is a Guardian Europe columnist
