At first, there is nothing to see except a long stretch of empty urban main road and nothing to hear but a faint buzz that could be a distant swarm of bees. Within a minute, the scene has changed to a chaotic roar as 20,000 roller-skaters, accompanied by flashing police cars and the yelling of voluntary marshals, sweep by in a multi-coloured procession enjoying a regular twice-weekly funfest.
Today a special Sunday run could assemble 50,000 roadskaters of all ages, marking a further step in the social evolution of a six-year-old weekend tradition that started as an aggressive youth rebellion before becoming part of the capital's regular entertainment. The skaters will be backing a campaign to stop the spread of tuberculosis among the capital's homeless, which threatens the general public.
Last year an outing from Paris to Versailles attracted double the average number of weekly roller-skaters, both in-line and four-wheel types, to raise funds to combat Alzheimer's disease. Charity runs, linked to the regular authorised Friday and Sunday gatherings, are becoming ever more frequent.
The four-hour excursion from the Bastille today, organised by a medical association for the homeless, will stick to the Paris streets to concentrate on the plight of rough-sleepers, known as SDF or sans domicile fixe, who are the main sufferers from a disease that has been virtually wiped out elsewhere.
The fundraising event - Roulez pour la vie (Roll for life) - will also cement cooperation between the two main roller associations, Pari-Roller and Rollers-et-Coquillages (shells), and the left-wing Paris council, which encourages the sport as an alternative form of transport, allowing commuting enthusiasts to use bus lanes throughout the week.
Among today's crowd, many in fancy dress, will be a middle-aged woman politician who helped spread the roller rebellion from a gathering of happy-go-lucky young pioneers, who rejoiced in defying the police, to a friendly family weekend affair. Grey-haired Françoise de Panafieu, an elegant former assistant mayor who is standing in today's second-round general elections, took up the skaters' cause and has since become the country's most photographed participant in rallies.
'The atmosphere inside such a huge group is unreal,' a regular roller, Yves Bouchard, recalled before examining today's itinerary. 'You forget all the dividing factors - class, politics and age, and just roll and roll.' The 24-year-old computer salesman, who helps run a local roadskating associa tion, spent several hundred euros on US-made wheels and armour but said 'it was worth it because the sensation is unbeatable.
'The police open the way and crowds line the pavement like the Tour de France and ambulancemen stand by to treat injuries. The best run is after work on Friday night when avenues are kept clear of traffic until nearly midnight. The Sunday run takes place in the afternoon and is more sedate.'
It took five years for the two big rollerskating associations to agree with police on designated routes. But the election of a Socialist mayor, Bertrand Delanoë, last year opened the way to a green revolution in which motorists' priority has been reduced in favour of public transport and manpowered wheeled traffic. This summer some important roads along the Seine will be open only to cyclists, skaters, mini-scooterists, walkers and joggers.
Eliane Négroni, a 20-year-old science student, said making roadskating outings a useful pastime had attracted more supporters, particularly from green movements 'who have a bit of a conscience'.
