A Day in Paris - Part 3

It was still Thursday. 
We took the metro to the destination which I had added to our itinerary. Because of our plane delays into and out of San Francisco, we had not been able to see the Eiffel Tower when we had first arrived. I knew that my wife really wanted to see it. For some people, the Eiffel Tower is the most French thing that exists. They seem to believe that if they haven't been to the tower, they haven't really been to Paris. To the tower we went. 

Walking from our metro stop to the tower, we saw a man complaining to the police. I don't remember now whether he was a seller of souvenir Eiffel Towers, or a buyer; I do remember that he was unhappy. The cops reprimanded someone, and made them take away the paper plates containing some half-eaten meal that they had left on the wall overlooking the Seine. 

We continued to the tower. First we went into a fenced area around the base of the tower. Here we were accosted by a petite woman in a head scarf and flowing clothing. She said, "Do you speak English," as she carried a clipboard, and asked for signatures. I seem to remember someone identical to her from over 30 years ago doing the exact same thing. I remembered having been told all those years ago, and reading recently, not to sign anything. We ignored her, just as I had so long ago. 

Once inside the perimeter, we had to pass through the usual bag and body search...but it seemed much quicker and easier than most of the other searches we had undergone. We were free to roam about beneath the base of the tower. The lines to go up the tower were quite long. We elected to forego the up. We got some pictures. 

I knew a great place to get great pictures of the tower. Naturally, I figured that I would impress my wife by taking her to get a memorable shot of the tower. I led her across the Pont d'Iena (I didn't bother explaining the significance of the name of the bridge or the battle to which it referred. She has no interest in Napoleonic history). I marched confidently up the stairs beside the gardens up to the Place du Trocadero. The stairs were not especially steep...and they were only about as long as Napoleon's retreat from Moscow, give or take a Cossack...and the weather was nicer. In fact, the weather had warmed somewhat. 

As we arrived near the top of the stairway, I discovered a sign. It was not a good sign. According to the sign (and the chain link fence), the top of the stairway was under construction, and totally blocked off to traffic. That information would have been more useful to me at the bottom of the stairs.  

As the song says, "Yes, there are two paths you can go by." There were two stairways to the Place du Trocadero. In true Maxwell Smart fashion, I had chosen the one with the view of a chain link fence at the top. We went back down the stairs, crossed the gardens, and went up the other side. 

It's a popular location for taking photographs. We had to wait a bit for a nice spot to clear. Some tourists seemed oblivious to the fact that others wanted to take pictures as well. But it was a beautiful-though-overcast day in Paris; we had a great view and time still seemed to be on our side. It was Thursday, and we were happy...except for that whole blocked stairway to heaven the top. It would become plain by the end of the day, that not only is Paris the city of lights, it's also a city of stairs. 

Next time: Ambush on the stairs...or A Day in Paris - Part Four