Paris has a watery dream of swimming in the Seine – but can the planners take the plunge?

Could the home of croissants and infamously rude locals become the land of outdoor swimming? Image: Wikimedia Commons

It all started on a hot summer’s day in August 2015, when hordes of people defied a 1923 law and plunged into a canal in the northeast of Paris. It was such a welcomed event that, in November, the City Hall officially proposed a plan for three swimming pools to be built along the south side of the Quai de la Loire canal basin, ready for this summer.

Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo celebrated the plan on Twitter, writing: “City swimming: promise kept! Three pools on the Bassin de la Villette starting next July 15.” It is a bold plan that, ahem, hopefully will swim and not sink.


The Bassin de la Villette is located in the north east of Paris and is the widest part of the long and fascinating canal system that flows down into the Seine. It was inaugurated in 1808 by Napoleon Bonaparte to supply water to Parisians – they can't just drink wine you know – and was a former port area during the industrialisation of rivers. Now, it's a central cultural and recreational spot, boasting a theatre barge, boat rental, breweries and cinemas, and is a prime spot for summer wine drinking.

The temporary structures will be built into the actual Bassin, which connects the Canal de l'Ourcq with the Canal Saint-Martin. The smallest, a children's pool, will be just 40cm deep, a second will be up to 120cm deep and a third will be reserved for serious swimmers at 2m deep. The pools in total would stretch 90m end to end, and would take up 16m in width.

Liberté, Egalité, Water Qualité

Naturally, the water itself is a worry. The canal has fallen pray to a few rat infestations and, on occasion, you can watch giant rats being dredged up as you sip a fresh rosé on a canalside terrasse – but don't be put off just yet. Jean-Francois Martins, tasked with sports at the City Hall, offered reassurance to prospective Parisian bathers in Le Figaro newspaper, saying: "We've been monitoring the quality of the water in the Bassin de la Villette since 2009."

 

Would you jump in? Image: Pixabay

The canals were emptied and dredged under a year ago, uncovering bizarre objects hidden in their depths - from bottles to scooters to a stray toilet. Despite the occasional sight of a cupboard or some vermin, the canal is actually relatively clean and a calm hub in the bustling city, where people picnic, fish and commandeer model boats during the summer months. It is not uncommon to see overly zealous Erasmus parties dive into the canal on hot weekend evenings and there have been no reports of swimmers haemorrhaging from the mouth, eyes and internal organs after contracting Weil's disease (Google if you dare) just yet. So that’s something.

Managing the water for swimming will require stemming sewer overflow during heavy storms, illegal discharge into the water from quayside boats and barges, and agricultural run-off from farms upstream. It is doable but still a massive undertaking by the city and region of Île-de-France.

Will Paris ne regrette rien?

Is it all worth it? Perhaps. Many Parisians seem to have a thirst for outdoor swimming and will seek a cooling spot to escape the city heat again this summer – the City Hall estimates that around 1,000 people would show up to the pools on any given summer day next year. As a local and keen outdoor swimmer, a guarantee of good water quality would certainly draw me for a daily swim.

The pools will be a kind of summer pop-up, along with the annual Paris Plage which transforms the banks of the basin and Seine quayside into an urban beach every summer. This means that they will be taken down for the winter season as it is pretty unlikely that many people will want to float down a freezing canal.

Paris Plage is already a thrilling reality. Image: Wikimedia Commons

Fanatics keen for a outdoor swim in the chillier months can head to the outdoor pool at Butte aux Caille in the 13th arrondissement, which is open year-round and now heated from the warmth given off by a data centre installed in the same building.

As part of Paris' Olympic bid for 2024, the city has also been overhauling the 38 existing swimming facilities; building innovative heating systems as part of a plan to make all the pools eco-responsible by 2024.

Another new, unusual, environmentally friendly pool-heating system can be found at the Aspirant-Dunand pool in the 14th arrondissement. Water from the Paris sewers is being used to warm this pool – which has cut its electricity bill by 50 per cent. A new heat pump system was installed at the pool following tests of similar systems at the pool and several others in the Paris region. The city has 2,400km of sewers under its streets and assistant mayor Célia Blauel said that the water they contained was between 13C and 20C all year round. This heat was taken from the water and used to heat the pool and showers.

In-seine urban planning

Not willing to stop at just a canal, the ambitious City Hall has also announced that they aim to make the river Seine clean enough to swim in by 2024. The city has even suggested staging Olympic events such as the swimming triathlon in the river.

Zurich already has a perfectly good outdoor swimming spot. Image: Zurich Film Office 

So, will it work? Proposals to clean up waterways are a regular occurrence in many major European cities. Berlin’s 2014 scheme included a plan to swim in a part of the river Spree, but pollution from storm water run-off and coal mining put that one on the back burners. Over in London, there is the more viable Thamesbath project. It is a partially heated twin pool rather than an open swimming area but would use river water, filtered and cleaned through tanks and aquatic plant beds. It’s reached almost £150,000 on Kickstarter but is likely to cost a fortune, so don’t hold your breath. (Sorry).

Copenhagen's harbour is now swim-friendly. Image: Thomas Rousing / Flickr

But the idea of safe and clean urban swimming for the masses does float, as there are success stories already. Both Copenhagen and Zürich have cleaned up their open waters – a harbour and a lake – making it perfectly safe to jump right in.

Paris doesn’t have many ecological factors in its favour but the city of light has a big watery dream. In spite of the odds, this project may be just about achievable, and we could one day see tourists slip in for a dip in the Seine after a visit to the Eiffel tower.

Don’t forget your swimsuit. 

Want more of this stuff? Follow CityMetric on Twitter or Facebook

 
 
 
 

What is Europe? We’ve been arguing about it for 400 years

Well, it's here somewhere. Image: Google.

It is tempting to regard the history of Europe as a tale of gradually closer union, an evolution now imperilled by the forces of nationalistic populism that have brought Brexit and the growth of far-right political parties across the continent. In reality, the story is not such a neat one – and the meaning of Europe has always been up for debate. The Conversation

Take the 16th century as an example. Back then, Europe as an idea and a marker of identity was becoming more prominent; so much so that, by 1623, English philosopher Francis Bacon could refer to “we Europeans” and the continent was depicted as a queen.

Europe As A Queen, 1570. Image: Wikimedia commons.

The cultural movement of the Renaissance sparked an enthusiasm for all things classical – including the word “Europe”, which may have derived from the Greek name for the goddess Europa. At the same time, the voyages of discovery following Christopher Columbus’s landing in the Americas in 1492 led to a greater knowledge about the world at large. With this came a corresponding deepening of the sense of “us” versus “them”, of what supposedly made Europe and Europeans different.

This identification with people from across the continent had also been spurred by the westward advance of the Ottoman Empire following the fall of Constantinople in 1453. The Reformation and subsequent breakup of the church weakened the idea of Christianity as a unifying badge of identity, and so Europe was able to articulate this growing collective sentiment.

A little used word

Yet some of the major thinkers of the period rarely used the word “Europe”. The term appeared only ten times in the works of writer William Shakespeare, where it was used not with any specific geographical meaning but for rhetorical exaggeration. In the play Henry V the Constable of France assures the Duke of Orleans that his horse “is the best horse of Europe”. And in Henry VI, Part 1 the Duke of Bedford promises that his soldiers’ “bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake”.

It is telling that three of Shakespeare’s ten utterances belong to that master of comic overstatement, Falstaff. In Henry VI, Part II he says: “An I had but a belly of any indifference, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe.” These are not the stirrings of a sense of cultural unity, of Europe as a great civilisation. The word “Europe” as Shakespeare used it is empty of meaning beyond that of a vast expanse.

The French writer Michel de Montaigne. Image: Wikimedia commons.

The term popped up even less in the writing of French philosopher Michel de Montaigne – just once in the 107 chapters that make up his Essays. Montaigne used the word as a geographical marker: recalling the myth of Atlantis, he wrote of the kings of that island extending their “dominion as far into Europe as Tuscany”. Curiously, this sole instance of the term Europe appeared in an essay about the New World, On Cannibals, in which Montaigne wrote about the customs of the Tupinambà people of Brazil. Although he contrasted them with what he calls “us”, he did not use the word Europe in these comparisons.


A contested concept

But his contemporaries do. André Thevet, a Franciscan friar who had also journeyed to South America, wrote enthusiastically of the Spanish conquest of the New World: “You will find there towns, castles, cities, villages, houses, bishoprics, states, and all other ways of living that you think it was another Europe”. Thevet championed the superiority of what he called “our Europe”.

Montaigne was much more sceptical: “We may call these people barbarous in respect to the rules of reason, but not in respect to ourselves who in all sorts of barbarity exceed them.” Where Thevet regarded Europe as a cultural model to be exported, Montaigne condemned empire building in the New World. Montaigne articulated a sense of affinity with the Spanish and Portuguese by referring to “we”, “us” and “ourselves”, but – though like Thevet he could have done – he did not name this community Europe.

Some people continued to prefer the label “Christendom” to articulate a collective identity. But others were not wedded to such overarching notions of belonging. Jean de Léry, a Calvinist pastor who had travelled to Brazil, did not use the word “Christendom” and used “Europe” sparingly in a geographical, not a cultural, sense. Léry had suffered at the hands of Catholics during the French Wars of Religion and felt no affinity with them. His allegiances were much smaller – to Calvinism and to France.

Just like today, in the 16th century the meaning of Europe was not straightforward. It was contested between those who used the word as something more than a geographical area and those who did not – between those who saw the continent as a cultural idea of unity and those whose sense of community and belonging was much smaller.

Niall Oddy is a PhD candidate at Durham University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.