Paris-on-sea

I'd heard about Paris Plage but never been there before. This year there wasn't much publicity. I couldn't find a separate leaflet so settled for a more general leaflet about summer events in Paris. It didn't tell me much but, after a delicious Lebanese lunch in the Carrousel of the Louvre (the food court is excellent for travellers on a budget), I headed past the glass pyramid to the banks of the Seine. There the blue banners directed me towards the "plage".

It's not a real beach. Apart from the month of Paris-Plage, it's a fast road. But from mid-July to mid-August, traffic is diverted and replaced by sunloungers, boules pitches, showers, and sports activities for children and adults.

I'm not someone who lounges in the sun. My skin parched in the heat despite occasional breezes so I welcomed the showers where water was dispensed in a fine mist which drenched eager children but also supplied a barely visible sprinkling of moisture to passers by. There were fountains too, where we could fill water bottles.

Wandering alone, I was an observer rather than a participant. What I saw was Parisiens' Paris - the place where the locals relax and enjoy the summer if they aren't lucky enough to join the big getaway.

Later I found my way to the Hotel de Ville (the Paris City Hall). The square in front had been transformed into a temporary (ephemeral) garden with green plants and lakes, to promote the ecological gardens of the city. There was mini-golf for the children and stand dispensed Paris water, free of charge, with fresh mint or lemon added. I joined the water-drinkers at their tables, sipping and savouring my water - and trying to swallowing the huge sprig of mint in the glass.

I need to be economical this year - the trip to the Comedie Francaise was my big extravagance - so much of my exploration consisted of walking around Paris. However, I'd invested in a Navigo, which meant I could take buses, trains or metros when I wished - and the guide called the Indispensible made it easy for me to find the best routes. But every so often I wandered freely, finding unexpected views, with a sense that I was walking through history.

On a sunny day, history seems calm and distant. It's easy to forget the real violence - or that pain and grief were felt as acutely in preceding centuries as they are now. It's too easy to treat Paris like any theme park that nourishes nostalgia - and forget the history which links the city to the world. But the history of Paris has affected the way people understand their human condition. I know too little of it but have picked up episodes like a series of snapshots: the theological debates in the time of Peter Abelard, the Revolution, the Napoleonic era, the siege and commune, the occupation, liberation, Sartre and de Beauvoir in a cafe.

In the past couple of years I've been acutely aware of signs recalling the occupation and its atrocities. Pausing on my calm, sunny progress, I saw another plain memorial:

TO THE MEMORY
OF THE PUPILS OF THIS SCHOOL
DEPORTED BETWEEN 1942 AND 1944
BECAUSE THEY WERE JEWS,
INNOCENT VICTIMS
OF NAZI BARBARITY
WITH THE ACTIVE COMPLICITY
OF THE VICHY GOVERNMENT.

THEY WERE EXTERMINATED
IN THE DEATH CAMPS.

That's too close to be the safe past. I have met some of the few survivors who have camp numbers tattooed on their arms.

I was impressed by the acknowledgement of complicity. I thought of the children deported from Britain with their families after their claims for asylum have been turned down. I recalled what I had read of dawn raids. Children are easy to locate and deporting a whole family helps the authorities meet government targets. What happens to those children who suddenly vanish from British schools, who are bundled onto flights to unfamiliar lands where they face hatred and oppression?

Perhaps one day Britain will erect memorials to them too. I wonder if the British will be as honest as the French. Will the British government and people acknowledge even partial responsibility for what happens next?