PONTOISE, France – In the town of Pontoise, which descends smoothly from the River Oise about 15 miles northeast of Paris, Mayor Stéphanie Von Euw is focused on her new vaccination center – a recreational facility in sand-colored blocks where up to 450 injections are given daily to people over 75 or at high risk.
Ms. Von Euw was energetic on a recent visit, talking to doctors and vaccines. But here in Pontoise, as in many other parts of France, there is no way to hide that a marasmus pandemic winter has set in.
“To keep my chin up, I try to follow this rule: I take it one day at a time,” said Von Euw at a table covered with boxes of chocolate left by recent vaccine containers. “If I look to the future, I get lost.”
Caught between infection rates that remain stubbornly high, despite months of economically damaging restrictions and a slow release of vaccines, there is a growing and dark feeling in France that the country’s battle against the pandemic has stalled.
Last month, the country was preparing for a third national blockade when President Emmanuel Macron unexpectedly decided against it. He made a calculated bet that he could tighten the restrictions just enough to prevent a new outbreak of virus cases, avoiding the heavier economic and social cost of more drastic measures like those currently in force in Germany or Britain.
Weeks later, it is still unclear whether this bet will pay off or whether, as some health experts have warned, there is little chance of containing the spread without a rigid block.
The average number of daily infections, about 20,000, has not increased or fallen much in the past month. But more contagious variants from other parts of the world are spreading.
Arnaud Fontanet, an epidemiologist at the Institut Pasteur who is also a member of the government’s Covid-19 advisory board, said on Sunday that the chances of containing the epidemic without a rigid blockade are slim.
“Everything will depend on our ability to control the spread of the British variant,” Fontanet told the Journal du Dimanche. “If we wait too long, we could be caught off guard by the accelerating epidemic.”
Hospitalizations are stable, but still at high levels, with around 28,000 Covid-19 patients across the country, including about 3,300 occupying more than half the capacity of intensive care units.
Some experts said they fear that a plateau in the number of infections at these higher levels will leave little room for maneuver if hospitals face a new spike in cases.
The government is projecting optimism, and the Minister of Health even told Franceinfo radio on Tuesday that the country may not have to be under block ever again. But the public’s mood is one of uncertainty.
“There is a lot of hesitation,” said Odile Essombé-Missé, 79, who was in line at the vaccination center in Pontoise for her 85-year-old husband’s injection. Asked about a new block, she just shrugged.
“We tolerate that,” she said finally, with her glasses, perched on a blue and orange colored mask, foggy.
Mr. Macron promised that all adults who wish to have vaccines will be offered by the end of the summer.
More than 2.2 million of France’s population of 67 million have received at least one dose so far, and almost 250,000 have been fully vaccinated. But with 3.1 doses administered by 100 people, according to a New York Times database, France still follows neighbors like Italy or Spain.
“We could double, even triple the pace,” said Von Euw, if his center received more vaccines.
But the European Union has struggled in recent weeks to ensure a steady supply of doses. The French government has managed to open a promising 1.7 million new schedules available in the coming weeks, as deliveries take place.
“I’m not immune yet, but I’m still calm,” said Eliane Coudert, an 80-year-old retiree who came from the nearby town of Éragny to Pontoise for the injection. She was sitting patiently with a handful of newly inoculated companions in a small waiting area, where doctors monitor for adverse side effects.
Mrs. Coudert, who is diabetic, said she was determined to get vaccinated so she could see her great-granddaughters again.
“I see them a little bit outside,” she said. “But we can’t kiss.”
France has been under an evening curfew since mid-January and restaurants, cafes, museums or cinemas are closed, turning even the most lively of French cities into ghost towns after 6 pm.
So, in a way, the vaccination center – where the local Rotary club sometimes brings croissants and other sweets – represented a much-needed social outing for elderly people who spent weeks or months almost isolated.
“The restrictions imposed by social detachment are starting to irritate everyone,” said Dr. Edouard Devaud, an infectious disease specialist at Center Hospitalier René-Dubos, Pontoise’s main hospital. “There is no point of light at the end of the tunnel.”
Variants of the virus, mainly the British one, now account for one in seven of each new infection. Some areas, such as the Paris region, reported even greater proportions. But the country’s infection numbers have remained frustratingly stable.
Dr. Devaud said the average number of Covid-19 patients in his unit – about five to ten, plus another dozen in intensive care – has been completely manageable so far, thanks to better understanding and treatment of the disease.
But the prospect of a new block concerns him.
After the first blockade last spring canceled all non-urgent care, doctors were alarmed to see the consequences of delayed treatment, such as worsening cancer.
Health professionals have also seen an increase in the incidence of young people with serious mental health problems.
“So we need to get out of this pandemic,” said Devaud.