Paris 2024 Olympic Games. Achievements, medals, atmosphere… relive the first days of the Olympic Games in pictures

Medals, exploits, spectacle… and a great atmosphere. Driven by the mission of pushing their athletes, French supporters spread an extraordinary and unprecedented atmosphere in the arenas of the Olympic Games. From the Stade de France to the Stade de Lille (North), from the Olympic swimming pool to the Grand Palais, in the streets and cafés of Paris, they sing, dance and encourage their champions, who for the moment, looking at the medal table, are giving it back to them.

At the Arena Champ-de-Mars, a showcase for judo, we meet Asterix, Obelix and Panoramix. Or rather Benjamin, Paul and Lucas, three troublemakers from the North, disguised for the occasion: “We said we would come completely naked, or as Gauls. There are children, so we chose the Gauls”. The opposing supporters stop them to take photos. “It’s so cool”, appreciate some Germans. The Swiss tell them that Panoramix changes his name when he crosses the Alps. Over there, he is called “Miraculix”. Further on, a Japanese woman in a traditional kimono meets with the same success.

Miraculix has worked its magic on the dojo: the first two French medals came from the judokas, Shirine Boukli (bronze) and Luka Mkheidze (silver). Ecstatic and delirious atmosphere. Each French fight makes the walls shake. Clapping, “Allez les Bleus”, improvised Marseillaise – during the fight! –, first names of the athletes chanted – “Lu-ka!”, “Shi-rine!”. An ippon is celebrated like a goal in a football World Cup final. “I have never seen such an atmosphere in a judo competition, assures Stéphane Nomis, president of the French Judo Federation, in front of the journalists. This discipline has a moral code. Its spectators are calm. Here, the supporters come from football, from rugby. It’s great too.” Respect is not forgotten: no opponent is booed, everyone is applauded. You can love your country without hating the one next door.

Breathtaking setting

That one of the first medals came from a former refugee, Luka Mkheidze, who left Georgia in 2010 and was naturalized in 2015, is a beautiful symbol. Especially since at the end of a breathless semi-final, he grabbed the French crest of his kimono and pointed it out several times to the public, annoying his fans.

At the Grand Palais, for fencing, the breathtaking setting is enhanced by an inspired ceremony: from the semi-finals onwards, the fencers descend into the arena via the grand staircase. A prelude to the grand opera of cape and sword. The cheers, which the reverberation of the venue increases tenfold, become deafening when the French draw their swords. On Sunday, on the verge of elimination in the quarter-finals, the épée fencer Yannick Borel came back from a deficit of four touches, like in the best period films. Hitchcockian suspense, a fiery atmosphere in the cauldron of the Grand Palais. In the final, the Guadeloupean wins silver. After the last touch, he climbs to the stands to embrace his wife, his three children and his friends. Cyrille is one of them. Yannick Borel is his best man. Cyrille has supported Yannick during several competitions. There, “it’s the best atmosphere I’ve ever seen. It’s indescribable, it’s great,” he admires. Here too, the other nations are respected. When the Frenchman’s opponent in the semi-final gets up after a spectacular fall, the whole arena applauds him. It’s France that wins, the France of respect and joy, the one we can be so proud of.

Pierre Wolf-Mandroux