Matthieu Tordeur Taking time means moving at the actual pace of the world, seeing better and feeling things more deeply.

Matthieu Tordeur, you have many strings to your bow. How would you define your profession? 

Well that question is always a bit complicated! I'm a speaker, a documentary filmmaker, and, above all, a fieldworker who travels to the distant lands like the Arctic and the Antarctic. The link between all these activities is adventure and exploration, which I now use to promote science and awareness. I like to surround myself with glaciologists and scientists when I travel, to learn more and share it. I feel like a witness or spokesperson for these fragile environments that are bearing the brunt of climate change.

You circumnavigated the world in a 4L (Renault 4L), you're the youngest explorer to have reached the South Pole on skis, solo and without external supplies. These exploits and experiences are reminiscent of those used in ocean racing. Do you and skippers share a connection? 

Indeed, I think we're similar in some ways. Sailors venture into potentially dangerous places, where they're truly exposed to nature in all its rawness. When you set out to cross an ocean, you rely on the weather conditions, the sea state, and the wind force. And when you're an explorer, it's the same thing. When I was in Antarctica, for example, I found myself in a gigantic ice desert open to winds and crevasses. I believe that, as explorers and navigators alike, we have this ability to face the unknown, this ability to adapt to all conditions that can change very quickly. You have to be flexible and confident in your preparation.

Do you, like sailors, feel that inexorable call of the open sea... On the ice floes? 

There's obviously that desire, but more out of a desire to immerse yourself in the great outdoors. The environments we explore are extraordinary, the oceans as well as the polar regions. If sailors need the ocean, I can satisfy my craving close to home, go away for several days, disconnect, and sleep outdoors a few kilometers away.

Do you think you can experience that feeling of escape, of being cut off from the world, by going, say, ten kilometers from home?

Exactly! You don't have to go far to experience an adventure. Many places are accessible, close to home, where you can go without expensive equipment or taking a two-month vacation. To give you an example, I had some of my greatest adventures in France.

It's time you shared your tips with us! 

One place I encountered quite late in life was the Pyrenees. It's an absolutely sublime place. I've crossed it twice, once hiking from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, and the second time by bike. I remember it took me 31 days on foot, on a route called the Haute Route Pyrénéenne, higher in altitude than the GR. It's a pretty incredible immersion in nature. It can be done in several stages, in small sections. A train station is never far away to access it.

There's a region you're also fond of: Normandy (where the race starts from). Could we say you're a local? 

Indeed, I was born in Rouen, where I went to school. I quickly movedI first visited Le Havre during my studies, and then I moved to the mountains. Normandy is my homeland, my family's home, and I still have several friends there. I think it's a fabulous region; we're lucky to have this extensive coastline, which isn't the case in all regions. In fact, you could say I'm a local, as I know the Transat Café d'Or well, having been to the starts.

Did you sail the Coffee Route? 

Not really, I did it the other way around! I joined a skipper in Guadeloupe and we delivered his cruising sailboat to England via the Azores. The skipper was a certain age, and he was happy to be accompanied by young people. He was quite cautious, not very adventurous, which is normal since the aim was to bring the boat back intact. We were averaging around 4 or 5 knots, hence the feeling of being drawn out. But I also found it a fantastic experience, an adventure that moved by time. You observe all the sunsets, all the sunrises, the dolphins...

Living in step with time, is that precisely what you advocate as part of the TRANSAT CAFÉ L’OR Sustainable Mobility Challenge, which you sponsor?

Some of my greatest adventures have been on foot, like in the Pyrenees, as I mentioned, but also by bike on the roads of France, in a kayak down the Seine, or on skis to reach the South Pole. Soft mobility encourages you to slow down, to take your time. These are ways of moving "by fair means," that is, without an engine, just using your own strength. And that changes everything. We reconnect

with space, time, and nature. Taking your time also means moving at the pace of the world, seeing things more clearly and feeling things more deeply. Soft mobility isn't just a practical or ecological choice; it's also a different way of being in the world.

How do you plan to follow the race? 

I have a few friends among the skippers I followed in the Vendée Globe, notably Tanguy Le Turquais, who competed in the Ocean Fifty this year. I'll be following their crossing and their adventures via social media.

Are you one of those map tracker-loving types? 

Oh yes, it's something I love. I'm already used to following the expeditions of my friends and colleagues here and there. So, when it's about the oceans, I also like to watch!

You're familiar with the TRANSAT CAFÉ L'OR's commitment to biodiversity and respect for the living world. You participated in the United Nations Ocean Conference in Nice at the beginning of June. How did you raise public awareness about the future of the ocean? 

I was the spokesperson for the cryosphere pavilion, in the green zone, accessible to the general public.

Do you feel that things have progressed on the part of the major decision-makers? 

In this regard, these conferences, like the COPs, are often quite disappointing. Again, it's very timid. There has been progress with the momentum surrounding the ratification of the High Seas Treaty, which aims to protect marine biodiversity. But when it comes to marine protected areas, this is not enough. These events are still necessary; they have the merit of existing and bringing the community together, of giving hope and energy. e.

Beyond going on adventures, your leitmotif is to document and communicate the changes taking place on our planet. A bit like sailors who sail the oceans, are you the first to witness them when you travel to remote areas? 

What we do with our expeditions, particularly with glaciologist Heïdi Sevestre, is to work with scientific research institutes and go to places scientists never go. Antarctica is gigantic, 25 times the size of France. Sharing our adventures in the media or on social media is an accessible gateway to talk about these somewhat forgotten polar environments. It's also a way to relay the warnings of the scientific community where reports, such as those from the IPCC, for example, can seem dry and difficult for the general public to access. Through beautiful human stories, we make scientific material accessible and raise awareness through emotion.

And what other memory do you have of it? 

I remember this communion with the elements and nature. That's what unites us with sailors, too; we rely on it a little. We try to cope with the storms, with the calm, we're independent too.

Finally, someone mentioned that you're a big Tintin fan. Of all his adventures, he never sailed across the Atlantic. Do you think he would have liked to cross the ocean? 

Tintin built my childhood world; he was the starting point for my adventures. I'm sure he would have enjoyed crossing the Atlantic. Of course, they would have had many problems. Captain Haddock would have been able to set the mainsail ablaze; they would have had to figure it out on their own. But Tintin and Professor Tournesol would undoubtedly have found a way to reach Earth.