in the Ardennes, “yellow vests” at the roundabout

By Florence Aubenas

Published today at 02:01

In the three bakeries in the town, the reception was the same when Victor Marquès, a retiree, came to distribute his leaflets. “Finally, you decide to move! », summed up one client. The tone borders on reproach, the faces too. The leaflets announce an action of “yellow vests” for Saturday February 5, 2022. In Revin, 5,800 inhabitants, the movement had started strong in 2018, as in the Ardennes in general. Victor Marquès sees its beginnings again, with inhabitants arriving from everywhere on the roundabouts, as if emerging from the shadows. That’s it, life took off, the impression of really existing. “You got up in the morning, you thought “yellow vests”. » Marquès tells things simply, without nostalgia. In fact, he also remembers the ” big slap » after the movement had run out of steam a year later: that feeling of suddenly being naked in the middle of the street, when he had come out the first time without his waistcoat. Transparent again.

The industrial wasteland of Revin (Ardennes), January 26, 2022.

Today, a liter of diesel gallops around 1.80 euros at the pump, while its rating of 1.45 served as a trigger at the time. “And everyone pays without protesting”, notes the cashier at the Intermarché station in Revin, near the roundabout below the station. It was at the foot of his gate that the “yellow vests” met again on February 5. They are ten to display, the core which has never let go of more than a hundred in all. For a Saturday afternoon, the streets of Revin seem singularly empty, too vast, too quiet, disturbed only by the staccato of an exhaust pipe. It’s normal. The city has lost half of its inhabitants in thirty years; it began to look like a deserted movie set, all in red bricks and blue stones, where you don’t know if the show is over. Or if he will start.

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In the Intermarché car park, it’s all about pasta, their price of course, 40% more expensive. And what about fuel? A motorist cuts short: he no longer goes to the pump. «Fi-ni-to», he hammers. Now he runs on stove oil instead of diesel, 80 cents a liter, half price, just a little oil to add. A second gets involved. Switched him to domestic fuel oil, around 1 euro. Much less taxed than fuels, both are strictly prohibited for cars. Other residents get involved, we carry Patricia Depaix, “yellow vest” and nurse, who seems to discover the scheme. She has just bought herself an electric car, but neither of the two outlets in town has ever worked. “That said, for fuel, I didn’t dare tell the parents,” whispers “Mr. Oil”, in a lower voice.

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