Today it is the tenth day of the “confinement”. That is the French word for lockdown and it literally means something like being locked up. The word truly describes our reality. During the sanitary emergency – another fancy term – we are trapped in space and time in Paris. You may go outside to stretch your legs, but it should not extend an hour a day and you’ll have to stay within a mile of your home. To make matters worse, even our smile is permanently locked behind a mask.

Would France still be France without widespread fraud? This time it is so much easier to do than during the first lockdown in the spring. Then the streets seemed to be empty of people, but now schools and a large number of shops and businesses remain open. So this time around the streets are almost crowded, which makes it more difficult for the police to check everyone. Still, it is a strange thing that you need a permit to go outside. And it is even more strange that you actually get used to it …

As Irene earlier explained in her blog, there are ways to stay outside for much longer if you want to. But it may prove risky if your run into a police check while being further than a mile from your home. Your fine will cost you at least 135 euros. That’s why it almost felt like being illegally abroad when a few days ago I carefully crossed the legal mile limit to walk into another neighbourhood. Talking the same walk every day gets boring quickly…..


If you live in a tiny apartment and your friends are not within the 1 km reach, you’re clearly out of luck. Yesterday it occurred to me that I hadn’t spoken to anyone for a week, except for the words bonjour, merci and au revoir. It was almost pleasant when a bum sat next to me on a bench to recite a self-written poem. I didn’t understand his poem but I gave him two euros anyway.

The cafes and restaurants were the first to close, but they are allowed to sell take-away meals. Some cafes in my neighbourhood also serve beer and wine in plastic cups between seven and nine – that’s when curfew begins. Because the weather is so nice in Paris (it is even bizarrely mild for the time of year: 18 °C today) I decided to have a beer as well. About ten meters from the entrance – it is forbidden to hang around the door – I stood next to a trash can, and used the lid as my table. A little further away, a group of people stood drinking around another trash can. Blood is thicker than water so when café terraces are closed, we create them ourselves, post-apocalyptic or not. I had another beer and then I walked home. We have to wait for better times, even in Paris …

Alec