Paris, Feature

Romantic Paris

We Tackle the Eiffel Tower

IT WAS a daunting prospect, but one that my long-suffering companion insisted on. 'You can't go to Paris and not go up the Eiffel Tower!' he had said, flabbergasted at my desire to remain on the ground. Thus, pushing fears of vertigo to the farthest pockets of my mind, I began to contemplate climbing Paris's most famous landmark. I paid the entry fee and set off, a bundle of nerves, taking each of the 704 steps with trepidation as I muttered 'Dont look down' over and over. After reaching the second level, we filed into the lift and went up and up and there below me was Paris. It was fantastic.

They say on a very clear day you can see for over 45 miles. Sadly it was raining at the time, but even this didn't detract from seeing the entire city from an aerial view, taking in, among others, the Louvre, the Notre Dame and of course the River Seine which runs through the heart of Paris. The only problem then was negotiating the way down. Glimpsing the city for one last time, I tackled the descent blessed in the knowledge that my feet would soon be firmly on the ground.

As night-time dawned, the tower was transformed into a large illumination giving rise to the description 'the city of light' and was even more fascinating. It was a sight you could never forget, and one that made our next stop, the Arc De Triumph, pale in comparison. Paris at night is a wholly different experience offering the chance to discover some of the glamour that is associated with the city. The chic and elegance of the restaurants and bars that line Les Champs Elysees towards the Arc De Triumphe was almost as impressive as their clientele who wore styles that stood up to Paris reputation as a fashion mecca of the world.

But it was by accident that we stumbled upon what would turn out to be the most memorable time of our stay in Paris. Setting off for the modern art building, the Pompadou Centre, a wrong turning led us to a quirky off-beat bar where a garrulous local related his experiences of living and growing up in Paris. Despite the language-barrier (most of the conversation was in broken English) it was impossible not to be riveted by tales from a local and hearing about a day in the life of a Parisian while the bar staff topped your beer up at no extra cost.

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