Tuesday, 6 December 2011
An evening at the Eiffel Tower
Waddling out of the restaurant after our huge lunch, and not quite ready for more walking, we hopped back on the metro to Trocadero. Boasting a platform perfect for viewing the Eiffel tower in all her glory, it was packed with cameras (and a person hanging off the end of each one, naturally). Families posed for photos, friends took turns positioning their hands in just the right place so it appeared it were holding up/pushing down the tower ("a little to the left, no, to the right, no it was better before...") and couples kissed, holding the pose while a kind stranger clicked a few shots. Our token effort at a photo in front of the tower (self-taken) resulted in me having an Eiffel tower hat - clearly needing a bit more practise at the self-portrait shots.
Darkness was already creeping towards us, so we walked down and across to the park opposite, walking underneath the huge complex structure as we did so. Much more impressive close up than at a distance, the soaring criss-cross of metal loomed over our heads, browner than I had imagined but looking as new as the day it was built. We watched the sky darken from a covered bench, chatting to a family who visit Paris every year, before walking back underneath the black sky and watching the tower light up with hundreds of twinkling lights, flashing on and off to mark the hour before settling into a soft glow.
We returned back to Trocadero to experience the full effect of the evening gloom on our surroundings; the tower a solid beacon of light, the racing traffic underneath a blurred white line. Impressive by day, it was by night that the tower's beauty was revealed. Eventually getting a little too cold, we stopped off at a local supermarket to grab some baguettes, cheese and wine, and enjoyed a makeshift picnic-dinner with some of our favourite French delights.