"Anyone who has not passed under the 'Pont d'léna' by 9.30 am will be collected." In concrete terms, this means that after an hour and a half at the latest, you should be within taster distance of your destination. We encounter this stern warning several times. At registration, at the skippers' meeting - well, that probably doesn't affect us anyway, I think, "it's a bit of a challenge with our luggage, but it's doable", also with a view to our fellow paddlers. Not because of their fitness, but because it feels like everything from 10-foot wave SUPs to very compact all-rounders and race boards are at the start, with a colourful mix of everything the SUP market has to offer. We should be able to keep up well with our sporty tourers. And it's unlikely that half the field will be collected.
Once a year, the Seine is open to SUPs
The field is actually 1000 stand-up paddlers who are allowed on the Seine once a year. On a waterway that is completely off-limits to SUP tourists the rest of the year. And the feeling on the river is correspondingly exclusive. The Seine is officially open for the event on this morning, but there is still the allure of something very special, something that would otherwise seem impossible. There are no freighters, no excursion boats, just us with our SUPs. Okay, together with 997 others. This must have been what it felt like on car-free Sundays in the 70s. When there was a risk of running out of oil and the motorways were opened up to pedestrians, children with tricycles and picnicking families on some Sundays. The Seine should also be a real motorway for boats, as evidenced by the countless barges moored alongside.
There is no sign of traffic on this Sunday morning at seven o'clock. The only thing that is hectic is the colourful hustle and bustle at the starting area. The participants are brought here from the exhibition centre in coaches, most of whom have already left their boards pumped up the day before and are now looking for them in the 40-foot containers that have been transported here. In the dark, headlamps flicker all around, the streetlights cast their gleaming light on the calm river.
We are lucky: it is almost windless and dry. The one to two degrees on this 5th December are bearable. We set up in our dry suits and thick shoes. All around us, paddlers with cowboy hats or lavish feather headdresses scurry around. Glittering mermaids, people in clown suits or even in giant duck costumes are busy with paddles and leashes. Some warm themselves up by dancing in small groups to the sound of music, warming themselves with tea from thermos flasks: We are experiencing SUP carnival in December.
Then it's finally time: the "boarding" - 1000 paddlers have to lower their SUPs into the river via a handful of ramps - takes almost half an hour. Gradually, the water surface fills up more and more, Bengal flares from a mega SUP light up the night. Somewhere out there, SUP world champion Casper Steinfath is also paddling. This time with the amateurs in the "Leisure Group". Because, as he says, he has already raced the pro race here several times and has seen almost nothing of Paris, just the tip of his board. "Now I want to enjoy it too," he says at the skippers' meeting on the stage in the Paris exhibition hall the evening before - a good plan.
The starting signal is given at 8.00 am, it is dark in Paris at this time in December
The starting shot is fired at 08:00 on the dot - and exactly five minutes later, unfortunately, so is the first drizzle. We pull the hoods of our suits down over our faces and hope that it will pass quickly. Our wet fingers cling to the paddle, and now the two degrees - with the additional light breeze - no longer seem cosy. But right at the start, we don't want to stop just to get gloves out of our panniers. Our calculated time buffer is already planned for photo stops. And we don't want to lose touch with the field. There is little sign of race fever in our surroundings. The gigantic paddling worm had set off at a leisurely pace, without any jostling; above all, nobody wants to fall into the water here. And when in doubt, if it gets too choppy, some even kneel on the board for stretches.
In fact, none of the people here are professionals, just normal amateur paddlers. Very few of them wear high-tech drysuits, but normal neos. Many of them are probably only paddling this one time in winter. And so we paddle at a leisurely pace, relieved that the shower was only short-lived and looking forward to the upcoming highlights in the rapidly dawning daylight. The world-famous obelisk from Egypt was also transported across the Seine here at the end of the two-year voyage and Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower are practically at the edge of the path.
With the SUP on the Seine - a dream for Paris fans
For lovers of the city, this SUP tour is like a passionate football fan simply kicking a ball around with friends in their favourite club's stadium at the weekend. At first, apart from a few dog owners, there aren't many people to be seen on the shore, we pass numerous bridges - only towards the end do more and more spectators gather there, waving at us and cheering us on. But not all of the numerous boats on the shore that have been converted into restaurants or clubs are deserted at this time of day. Muffled beats are now wafting across the water to us. This must be a "house" boat. A few people are standing at the stern, who certainly haven't just met there for a morning pint, waving their long drink glasses in our direction in a friendly manner, but they can probably empathise with what we are doing just as well as the other way round. We are the only ones in our "group" who regularly stop to get our photos. It has to be quick, camera out - click - camera in the case and onwards. Docking during the race is strictly forbidden. We stick to it and take turns juggling our cameras on the wobbly boards.
At one of the following stops, it happens: "Now he's gone crazy," I think. Thomas - who normally eliminates any potential risk in advance - kneels on his SUP, places the camera in front of him on the slippery deck and repositions himself with a few paddle strokes in the choppy water. At this moment, there is probably as much adrenaline flowing through his body as there is Seine water flowing through Paris. After all, the situation is unique. There is no "back" and no "again", as is usually the case on photo excursions.
You can also paddle fast elsewhere
The Seine, the field and the time pressure pull us mercilessly downstream. And every sight quickly disappears into the infinite expanse of the lens, never to be seen again. Fortunately, we had already visited the route the day before and memorised a few spots for our souvenir photos, and Thomas' daring mission also turned out well.
But we are also lucky - namely smooth water and hardly any wind. Reports from previous years show that the Seine can also be different. As soon as the wind forms recognisable waves, these are reflected by the side walls and then pile up mercilessly and chaotically against each other. A board that is too narrow is the biggest mistake in such conditions if you are planning this trip. Sporting ambition on narrow race boards is perhaps a waste of time here - as Olaf, an old racing fan, advised me before the trip: "Just enjoy it! You can paddle fast somewhere else".
And so we had defined our goals more in terms of sightseeing and a cultural programme. Three days packed full of programme and the constant amazement at the hustle and bustle in Paris on a dull Corona December weekend. No restaurant visit without a reservation or eternal waiting times, a 200-metre-long crowd of visitors snakes its way into the Louvre, strictly according to pre-assigned admission times. Only the metro pumps people underground through the city every minute, like vital blood cells. However, in the hectic Parisian hustle and bustle, heavily laden with luggage and bulky SUP bags, we look like three pack mules in a termite mound.
Paris is the city that forgives everything.
But Paris is the city that somehow forgives everything. Even thick raindrops on cobblestones don't seem depressing here, but romantic. A large beer for 9.80 euros? Well, "Just think of it as francs", we joke - and treat ourselves to a cappuccino for another four euros afterwards. In most cases, a trip like this is a "once in a lifetime" event. So: pay and enjoy! We saved ourselves the Eiffel Tower. Paddling past it under your own steam within easy reach - even the thousands of tourists who take the lift up every day are unlikely to be able to replicate this uplifting feeling.
After an impressive hour and a half tour, we climb up the vertical sheet pile wall at our destination, deflate our boards for the journey home by tram and now enjoy our hot tea to the full - just then, a cargo ship a good 90 metres long and eight metres wide shoots up the Seine at breakneck speed. As fast as it whizzes past, it's clear to see - the captain doesn't have a sticker on the stern saying "I also brake for paddlers".
Impressed, we understand why the repeatedly invoked 9.30 a.m. marks a merciless, real "deadline". Because our finish is also the starting signal for the rush hour. The small time window is therefore definitely closed and will not open again for another year.
For 1000 crazy paddlers - and we certainly wouldn't be the only ones at the start repeatedly.
