With the arrival of the flame on French soil, scheduled for this Wednesday at the Old Port of Marseille, the Paris Olympic Games are entering a new dimension. So far, objectively, we have not felt delirious enthusiasm from the French at the idea of hosting the biggest global sporting event. The Games were above all an opportunity to fuel political quarrels and stir up controversies with recurring themes. What slate will they leave to taxpayers? Will they put the safety of citizens at risk? Will they generate transport strikes? Are they going to turn the City of Light upside down? You don't have to be a disciple of Baron de Coubertin to guess that, behind this grumpy spirit so dear to our neighbors to the South, lies an obvious pride with, in the background, a crazy desire to declare one's love. The Olympics have always fascinated the good French people. The TV audiences of the latest editions are there to prove it with, implicitly, a chauvinism sometimes exacerbated with each Marseillaise. It's fair game. In short, it is obvious that as the days go by, the criticism will dissipate and the whole country will vibrate to the rhythm of the athletes' exploits. We even say that certain Parisians, who rented their apartment during the Olympic fortnight to escape the crowds, will be the first not to miss a bit of the broadcasts on their screens in Deauville or La Baule.
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