Paris Confinement Chronicles: Quarantine Companion

“Stuck in Paris? Oh, it’s a hard life,” a friend of mine laughed just a couple of days ago. It does sound ridiculous, I admit.

But however glamorous it may seem, I am still—together with roughly 90% of other Parisians—stuck inside my apartment. The other 10% still insist on standing together on street corners smoking or clogging up the stalls at the market without regard for anybody else. But there are careless people around the world; why should it be any different here?

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Personally, I was always going to face these weeks on my own as my husband had to be abroad for work, but I wasn’t anticipating spending all that time alone INSIDE.

I had a calendar full of research and travel projects, a busy few weeks had been anticipated and planned for. Instead, I now look forward to my daily clapping session from my balcony and glance at the beautiful spring weather outside while trying to stay away from the snack cupboard.

I’m luckier than so many of my fellow Parisians in that I’m used to working from home and have everything I need to work right here (except for the odd plane ticket). I’m also lucky that I have a dog.

Quite honestly, I was dreading the weeks without my husband as he shares the walkies duties and always takes her out first thing in the morning leaving me to lie in a little. I was feeling sorry for myself thinking of all the walks resting solely at my feet.

Now? To say I’m gleefully leaping out of bed in the mornings would be a lie, but I am appreciating each and every walk—even if it’s just around the block—as it gets me outside legally and guilt-free.

And while I am at times a little lonely, I must admit that I do feel for the families that aren’t used to working from home. They’re now finding themselves stuck with their partners and children in a small apartment in the city, everyone trying to find some personal space while fighting boredom.

Franchement? I think I probably would have killed my husband by now and sent my kids packing. With their duly signed forms, of course!

So, as we no doubt face another couple of weeks indoors, I’m still stubbornly refusing to cancel my ticket and reservations for Milan in May, as hope prevails that by then things might be alright again. That is, if we all behave and stay inside now.

In the meantime, I marvel at the fact that I now wave bonjour to the woman living opposite, whereas previously we ignored each other in good Parisian fashion. I smile at people in my quartier as one of us steps into the street, leaving the sidewalk to the other.

My heart swells every night with a feeling of solidarity when we clap for the healthcare workers or when someone plays piano on Facebook live to offer me a break from my solitary confinement.

I know this will sound rather sickly sweet and oh-so cliché, but I feel this trial might just bring out the best of France’s values of Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité. Just a little less of the liberté for now…