On our approach to the Eiffel Tower, Rowan warns us again about the scammers - don’t sign any petitions, don’t stop if someone tells you you dropped something, and for god’s sake don’t let anyone tie a string around your wrist. We are in a river of tourists, but there are no scammers. There are plenty of hawkers selling miniature Eiffel Tower replicas, tchotchkes and keyring on blankets all along the way, but there are no scammers.
Not showing the knife to the woman at the first security checkpoint was, in retrospect, an error in judgement on my part. This became clear at the second security checkpoint when the unamused French security guards made me drop the knife through a small round hole in the top of a sealed, transparent, lucite box, artfully creating a display of the knives formerly belonging to idiots who tried to carry them in to the Eiffel Tower. This particular knife however, the one I brought to effect the making of baguette sandwiches, did not formerly belong to me but to our Parisian hosts. So there’s something I’m going to have to make amends for.
The view of Paris from mid-level is spectacular. It seems that every structure in the city is a variation on alabaster, as though the the whole place were crafted out of a paper, except for a single patch of skyscrapers standing out like a mirrored glass sore thumb. Griffin, with his eagle eyes, is pointing out buildings. “See the Louvre over there? And then behind that you can just make out the blue, red and green of the Pompidou Center…”
Another lift takes us to the top and it’s more of the same, just twice as high and twice as crowded on the smaller deck. Selfies are taken on both levels and, after Rowan, pleading imminent starvation, makes herself a sandwich, the other four of us head down via the stairs from the middle level. More photos ensue at the bottom, and then we too make lunch and eat it in a nearby “keep off the grass” area with other groups of tourists, one of which applauds vigorously when Griffin does a front handspring.
Another lift takes us to the top and it’s more of the same, just twice as high and twice as crowded on the smaller deck. Selfies are taken on both levels and, after Rowan, pleading imminent starvation, makes herself a sandwich, the other four of us head down via the stairs from the middle level. More photos ensue at the bottom, and then we too make lunch and eat it in a nearby “keep off the grass” area with other groups of tourists, one of which applauds vigorously when Griffin does a front handspring.
On our exit, Griffin engages one of the petition scammers and we reconnect with Rowan. Family strife divides us en route to the post office, but everyone is down for Starbucks where we regroup before separating again for the trip back to l’appartement, each at our own pace.
In the evening, Berit and Griffin go to Muji so that he can buy school supplies. He’s been texting his language arts teacher, who is fully supportive of the idea. Bennett and I buy and cook stuffed past shells with olive oil and parmesan.
No comments:
Post a Comment