Yesterday evening I went to see Ségolène Royal give a speech in Paris. It was a hot May Day afernoon – the perfect moment to see the Socialist Party candidate start her final assault on the presidency.

I saw Nicolas Sarkozy - Ségolène’s rival – speak a couple of weeks ago. But that was before a small audience in a five-star hotel in a smart part of Paris. Ségolène’s event was very different – a huge rally and pop concert in a stadium in the 13th arrondissement (not very smart). I took a taxi to the stadium with John Thornhill, the FT’s Europe editor. The roads were closed off and we had to walk the last few blocks. John remarked - slightly  nervously I thought – "I don’t really know this part of Paris."

When we arrived at the stadium, the concert was still going on, the gates were barred and there were huge crowds milling around outside. Eventually I elbowed my way up to a gate with a big sign on it saying "Press". Normally in France, brandishing a press card has a magical – almost embarrassing – effect. (It’s particularly effective for queue-jumping at museums.) But not this time. The mixture of riot police and Socialist Party organisers were unimpressed. Ségolène wasn’t due on stage for 45 minutes. But they weren’t letting anyone else in.

Annoyed by this, I decided to walk around the stadium and look for a gap in the security. About 100 yards further on, I came across some people – mainly young blacks and Arabs – who had found a way into the stadium. They had turned a crash barrier on its side and were using it as a makeshift ladder, allowing them to clamber up to the top of the metal fence surrounding the stadium– and then leap down onto the other side. I climbed up myself and took a look.

But I didn’t fancy it – it was a fifteen-foot drop on the other side. And if you didn’t get enough distance on your jump, you risked falling even further into a concrete trench. I vaguely remember pulling off a similar death-defying leap to gatecrash Trinity College’s May Ball. But that was more than 20 years ago; and – frankly – the incentives were rather higher. You got unlimited free booze and food at Trinity. I didn’t think Ségolène would be quite so hospitable

Walking back around the stadium, I bumped into John Thornhill again. Gratifyingly, he had also failed to get in. So we strolled over to a hot dog van, bought ourselves a couple of beers and settled back to listen to the speech from outside in the street. After about 20 minutes, Ségolène took to the stage.

She is clearly beginning to lose her voice. But the effect is not unpleasant. In fact, listening to her husky cry of "Merci, merci", drifting through the hot, summer air was rather… oh well, never mind.

John, who has listened to a great many Ségolène speeches, was able to mouth her slogans, even before she had got them out – "the win-win society", a "just order", "la France presidente". But the crowd seemed to like it. One thing that struck me, however, is how many of her supporters seem motivated by hatred of Sarkozy, rather than love of Ségolène. There seemed to be to be far more badges and posters saying "Stop Sarko" than "la France presidente".

Martin Arnold, my colleague, who has also spent a fair amount of time trailing around after Ségolène Royal, says that last night’s events were typical. Many of the journalists following her are in a state of barely-repressed fury because of her campaign’s chaotic organisation.

Anyway, tonight is going to be the crucial moment of the campaign. The first and only television debate – Sarko v Sego. I just hope my television doesn’t go on the blink.

May 2nd, 2007 in French election | Permalink