We left Sacre Coeur, walking down the near infinity steps, down the street, past the little shop where we had purchased the bag, and back to the metro. The red book sheet for the day showed us at step 15 (of 22) getting on the M12 at Anvers. Step 16 had us ride to CDG Etoile; 17 was visiting the Arc de Triomphe.
And I have no idea who the person in the white jacket with the upraised arms might be; just some other tourist; but it really makes the picture come alive.
From the outside, the monument seems huge. It seems even taller when one is going up the stairs inside. Before we got to those stairs, we had to take a tunnel under the roundabout and come up in the center where the Arc stands. There was nothing unusual about going through the metal detector... except that I kept setting it off. The people behind us were losing patience. Finally, the guard just passed us through without any groping or stripping...in spite of the rather rude suggestions of the people behind us.
I have said that Paris is a city of stairs. At the Arc, those stairs were a fast and furious experience...by which I mean, when tried to go fast, my wife got furious. Of course, I jest. We were too tired to go fast. The circular stairs go up...and up...and up...and up. Then, when we were just about to collapse with exhaustion, we discovered that there were more stairs.
Eventually we got to the top...but it wasn't quite the top. It was a place to rest, buy souvenirs, use the bathroom, etc. I needed the latter (and I don't mean the etc.), but I decided to go on to the top after a brief rest.
More stairs. I only got one or two pictures from the top. I was there about one minute. That earlier need I mentioned suddenly became very, very, extremely urgent. Back down the stairs.
There was a line. It wasn't moving. Even when someone came out of the restroom, no one went in. I was curious. What could be the cause of this strange phenomenon? On the lady's side, there was no line; only the men's side had a line...and it refused to move. Eventually, after about 20 minutes of intense and painful waiting, I unraveled the mystery. A guy with four or five boys had gone into the men's room. There was only one stall. I think he was giving each of them an individualized course in astrophysics, or something.
So, I spent most of step 17 waiting in line...for the loo.
My wife didn't want to go back up to the top. I was in a hurry to lead her down the Champs-Elysees, through the Tuilleries, and to the Louvre; so we left, getting a few pictures before we took the tunnel under the roundabout to the Champs-Elysees.
Next time: A Day in Paris - part six
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