Contestants warmed up with stretches and squats in front of City Hall, carefully placed croissants and glasses on their trays and tightened their aprons as pop music blared from the loudspeakers.
Then, they left.
On Sunday, for the first time in more than a decade, Paris revived a tradition: an annual competition of waiters in cafes and restaurants. About 200 men and women drifted, punched and jogged 1.2 miles through the city’s streets, which were filled with cheering crowds. The rules were simple: No running and reach the finish line with full trays intact with a croissant, a glass of tap water and a small cup of coffee.
The race, which was first held in the early 20th century, has been on hiatus since 2012 due to a lack of funding. But Paris officials saw an opportunity for the city to shine before hosting the Summer Olympics, which begin in July. It was also a moment to demonstrate that drinking coffee in a café or wine in a bistro was as integral to the capital’s cultural heritage as its most famous landmarks.
“When foreigners come to Paris, they don’t just come for the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower,” said Nicolas Bonnet-Oulaldj, deputy mayor in charge of trade. “They also come to eat in our cafes, Bouillon Chartier, Brasserie Lipp or Procope.”
Paris was home to more than 15,000 bars, cafes and restaurants last year, according to city statistics, fueling a vibrant kind of culture that has remained strong despite the coronavirus pandemic and concerns. on inflation and labor shortages.
“It’s a French way of life and a Parisian way of life,” Mr Bonnet-Oulaldj said.
Before the match, the waiters used safety pins to attach numbered bibs to their clothes. These from the city’s best-known institutions were treated almost like star athletes before a big game.
Cameras and onlookers converged on No. 207, representing Les Deux Magots, the iconic café frequented by intellectuals and writers such as Simone de Beauvoir and James Baldwin. and No. 182, representing La Tour d’Argent, a famous restaurant with a stunning view of the Seine River.
Others were just happy to be there.
“It’s great to all be running together,” said Fabrice Di Folco, 50, a waiter at Chez Savy, near the Champs-Elysées, who was competing for the first time. Like many others, Mr Di Folco said he had not trained specifically for the competition — his day job was pretty much preparation.
Apprentices competed separately from veterans, and men and women competed together but were ranked separately. The top three contestants in each category won prizes including four-star hotel stays and fancy restaurant meals. The top finishers in each category also booked their coveted tickets to the Olympic opening ceremony.
While the competition is nominally for waiters, it was open to almost anyone working in the service industry: cafes, restaurants, hotels and even the British ambassador’s residence.
Adam David, 22, a butler at the residence, wore a green tartan waistcoat as he waited for the match to start. “I keep saying I’m going to win,” he joked. But, he added, “I’m trying not to create a diplomatic episode.”
Starting at Paris City Hall, the contestants headed towards the Center Pompidou and then passed through the narrow streets of the Marais, the capital’s old Jewish quarter, before returning to the starting point. Television crews and fans raced alongside them, just like in the Tour de France, as spectators clapped and shouted encouragement.
The more competitive waiters proceeded with a brisk, almost tedious walk. Most were over in 13 to 20 minutes.
“It’s been a long time,” said Anne-Sophie Jelic, 40. “But the crowd was great.”
She wore bright red lipstick and laced shoes that matched the color of her cafe awning. The daughter of a cook and a pastry chef, Ms Jelic said she remembered hearing about the waiters’ struggle when she was growing up in the rural Eure-et-Loir region, west of Paris.
Ms. Jelic moved to Paris to get a master’s degree in art history and archeology and waited tables on the side. She said she liked it so much she changed pieces. She and her husband, who owns Café Dalayrac, in the second arrondissement, competed on Sunday.
“We’re not in it for the prizes,” Ms Jelic said before the race. But she came second in her class, earning a meal at the Tour d’Argent.
At the finish line, the judges checked the “integrity” of the contestants’ discs. Any glass of water below a 10cm meter line incurred a 30 second penalty. Empty glass? This will be a minute. Broken dishes? Two cents. Something is missing? Three. Lost your plate? Excluded.
It was also forbidden to carry the disc with both hands, but not to switch from left to right.
“The problem is that I can’t change my legs,” said Théo Roscian, a young apprentice waiter at Francette, a restaurant on a barge near the Eiffel Tower, as he jogged along the racecourse.
Some water that was precariously poured into Mr. Rossian’s glass spilled out. He swore.
Although it is unclear exactly when the tradition began, most date the first “course des garçons de cafe” to 1914. For decades, it was sponsored by L’Auvergnat de Paris, a weekly newspaper named after immigrants from Auvergne region in central France. who came to the capital, many of them became owners of bistros and cafes.
This year’s competition was sponsored by the city’s public water service, which said that cafe habits, such as serving coffee by the glass or carafe of tap water with a meal, made these establishments key allies in the effort to reduce plastic consumption.
The cafe and restaurant industry welcomed the revival.
Marcel Bénézet, president of the cafe, bar and restaurant branch of the Groupement des Hôtelleries et Restaurations de France, a trade group in the services industry, said Paris has faced a series of crises over the past decade that have hurt business: terrorist attacks, violent protests, Covid-19 lockdown and rising inflation.
“It is important to highlight our profession,” said Mr Bénézet, who took part in the fight. “A lot happens in the cafés of Paris,” he said, citing love, friendships, business deals and revolutions as examples.
Historically, waiters competed in classic attire: white jacket, black bow tie and formal shoes. Contestants on Sunday had a dress code that included a traditional apron, but modern concessions were made, such as being able to walk across the cobblestones of Paris in sneakers.
André Duval, 75, a retired maître d’hôtel who wore a large red bow tie, said he remembered the days when waiters carried wine — not water — across the finish line. “It’s too bad it wasn’t as long as it used to be,” he added. Some of the earlier waiter races spanned five miles.
One viewer, Renée Ozburn, 72, a writer and retired judge, said the pageant embodied the unique energy of the French capital.
“It’s one of those ‘only in Paris’ things,” he said.
