Eiffel Tower
I arrived at about 7pm on a beautiful May day. The crowds were still quite large, so before I went up, I wandered around for a while, searching for the photograph that would make the tower look as huge as it is. I strolled down through the Champ de Mars, which stretches out before the tower. I passed people in berets playing Boules (honestly), people playing cards on a box in a bin, and other such odd scenes of Paris parklife.
At the bottom of the Champ de Mars is a strange peace monument thing, right in front of the military academy. It’s a strange juxtaposition. From here, it was a fine view up to the tower, although the sun was coming from the wrong direction. I appreciated it for a while and then wandered back up the park.
Having now seen the tower from everywhere except up it, I bought my ticket and went to the lift. It’s a little bit disturbing, going up at an angle as you do. By the time we got to the second level, the view was already magnificent, and I wondered whether I’d wasted my money on the ticket to the top. But once the lift started the big ascent, I decided it was worth it.
The view from the top was breathtaking. Central Paris is almost all made of white masonry, and it glowed in the late evening light. The sky was clear, but there was rain falling to the west, which looked marvellous as the sun set. And though the top was crowded even at this late hour, it wasn’t too oppressive.
As the sun descended towards the horizon, the light got steadily more and more amazing, until the city shone a livid red far beneath me. But of course, the best was still to come. After a fabulous sunset, the lights slowly came on, until about an hour after the sunset, with the sky a deep shade of blue, Paris was a glowing carpet. Cities always look amazing at this time of day, and Paris looked more amazing than most.
Eventually, at 11pm, I decided I’d have to come down and get the metro back to the youth hostel. It was really difficult to tear myself away, though - I hadn’t really expected to be so impressed by the tower. But like many clichéd things, you think you know so well what to expect that the reality is actually quite startling. I had a last little wander around underneath and then went to the metro station.
I was hungry, but I made a tactical error here. Next to the Eiffel Tower is probably the worst place in France (and possibly the world) to buy a crepe. A lukewarm slice of cardboard with a 5p-sized drop of chocolate on it was what I got for my money. I went home, not hungry any more but not particularly satisfied.
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