Paris - Revisited - pt. 3
Saturday, June 3, 2006. The last day of my 20s. How many people get to say they spent such a monumental (pun!) day in Paris? Well, besides Parisians of course. And other people who live there. The first thing I did upon wakening was check the weather forecast. The sun from the day before was predicted to hold, and to my great delight, CNN's international weather woman announced a veritable heatwave from the day before. Gone were the rain and temperatures below 60, replaced by clear blue skies and temperatures close to 90.
Showered, dressed and baked, I packed Niblet in the backpack and headed toward the metro. Destination, Eiffel Tower. The stop directly serving the Eiffel Tower was closed, necessitating an early disembarkment. This provided the opportunity to approach one of Paris' most famous monuments from a slight distance, building the anticipation until finally I crossed the street and stood at the Trocadero, looking down a large staircase strewn with tourists taking pictures.
I bought a Nutella crepe from a street vendor and stood on the terrace with the Tower in a straight line in front of me until there was nothing left but the Nutella I quickly licked off my fingers. After snapping a few pictures, I descended the steps and approached the Tower, the sense of excitement mixed with anticipation and a bit of fear mounting the closer I came.
You can see the Eiffel Tower from various vantage points across Paris. Sometimes, you just see it poking up at the sky off in the distance. Though it towers above everything around it, you really don't get a sense of the enormity until you are standing right in front of it, almost underneath, and have to drop your head all the way back to look up and see the top. Only the skeleton of a building with a few decks as you ascend, the sun shines down through the lattice of metal, reminding you how naked the structure is.
You can go up from any of the four pillars, by elevator to the first and second levels, or on foot via staircases. It costs extra to go all the way to the top, accessible only by a second set of elevators on the 2eme etage, or second floor. I chose the pillar with the shortest line. It wasn't until I was just about to purchase my ticket that I realized the elevator to the 1st floor from that corner was broken. I figured, what the hell? I've climbed the stairs to the top of the Statue of Liberty before (sure, I was 13, but so what?). Besides, I wasn't going to start over in one of the lines 4 times the length of the one I was almost next in.
I ordered one ticket in French. She asked if I wanted to go to the top. I said "oui" and she charged me the 12-26 year old price of entry. I didn't tell her I was 29.
I mounted the stairs and about 2 flights up, the sense of excitement/anticipation/fear started to overwhelm me. I'm prone to panic attacks on occasion, brought on usually by crowded public transportation, long, high bridges, and heights. Low-grade panic set in, and it lasted the remainder of my Eiffel experience. I wasn't going to let it stop me: just because something freaks me out, doesn't mean I won't do it.
Now, I don't freak out just going up any old tall structure. And I have no problem with skyscrapers and looking at views from the safety of the building's enclosure. The Eiffel Tower, obviously, isn't enclosed. Sure, there's a metal fence. But tell that to the phobic part of my brain. I kept getting stuck behind slow-moving families, which wasn't helping. Eventually I'd manage to pass them, but it prolonged my discomfort.
I reached the 1st floor and made my way to the edge. I didn't take Niblet out because I kept picturing the scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation when Clark throws Rusty's beret off the Eiffel Tower and some woman's poodle leaps from her arms after it like it's a frisbee. Yes, off the Eiffel Tower.
Luckily poodles are light and so the wind catches it and the poodle ends up in the pool. Still, I didn't want to chance it with Niblet.
The hike to the 2nd floor was similar. Inexplicably, the lines to the elevators to the top wrap around the outside of the 2nd floor. You might think they'd have roped off the queue some other way. Instead, you can't exactly get to the edge to peer over from the 2nd floor unless you are in line.
The line to buy my ticket took less than 20 minutes. The line to the top was 30 or more. My patience was thin (panic attack, remember?) and I wanted to kill the bitch behind me who kept needlessly elbowing and jostling me. I hate that about lines in general. Invading my personal space really isn't going to get ya there any faster.
The top of the Eiffel Tower is divided into two floors. The first, where you exit the elevators, is enclosed by windows. Up a staircase, you reach as high as they'll let you go, surrounded by wind, protected by a mesh fence. No death by Eiffel Tower incidents, merci beaucoup. (No, really, thank you! It's windy up there!)
The crap part is that you have to wait in line again, to get back down to the 2nd floor. So, one tour around the top and I went back down and got in line. Not before stopping to buy myself a shot glass from the souvenir shop at the top. What better way to commemorate conquering a fear than obliterating the memory with booze? If only I'd brought the booze ...
The journey down from the 2nd floor was quick, and as a reward when I was on land once more, I bought myself an ice cream cone. Soft serve choco-vanilla swirl on a cone. MMMMMMMMM. I licked 'til I relaxed, and was very proud of myself. No, the height fear didn't go away. But I did it anyway, and the panic attack never got out of control and it went away quickly once I was on the ground again. Maybe that fear of heights will never completely leave me, but it is nice to know that I'm not so phobic as to let it stop me.
Showered, dressed and baked, I packed Niblet in the backpack and headed toward the metro. Destination, Eiffel Tower. The stop directly serving the Eiffel Tower was closed, necessitating an early disembarkment. This provided the opportunity to approach one of Paris' most famous monuments from a slight distance, building the anticipation until finally I crossed the street and stood at the Trocadero, looking down a large staircase strewn with tourists taking pictures.
I bought a Nutella crepe from a street vendor and stood on the terrace with the Tower in a straight line in front of me until there was nothing left but the Nutella I quickly licked off my fingers. After snapping a few pictures, I descended the steps and approached the Tower, the sense of excitement mixed with anticipation and a bit of fear mounting the closer I came.
You can see the Eiffel Tower from various vantage points across Paris. Sometimes, you just see it poking up at the sky off in the distance. Though it towers above everything around it, you really don't get a sense of the enormity until you are standing right in front of it, almost underneath, and have to drop your head all the way back to look up and see the top. Only the skeleton of a building with a few decks as you ascend, the sun shines down through the lattice of metal, reminding you how naked the structure is.
You can go up from any of the four pillars, by elevator to the first and second levels, or on foot via staircases. It costs extra to go all the way to the top, accessible only by a second set of elevators on the 2eme etage, or second floor. I chose the pillar with the shortest line. It wasn't until I was just about to purchase my ticket that I realized the elevator to the 1st floor from that corner was broken. I figured, what the hell? I've climbed the stairs to the top of the Statue of Liberty before (sure, I was 13, but so what?). Besides, I wasn't going to start over in one of the lines 4 times the length of the one I was almost next in.
I ordered one ticket in French. She asked if I wanted to go to the top. I said "oui" and she charged me the 12-26 year old price of entry. I didn't tell her I was 29.
I mounted the stairs and about 2 flights up, the sense of excitement/anticipation/fear started to overwhelm me. I'm prone to panic attacks on occasion, brought on usually by crowded public transportation, long, high bridges, and heights. Low-grade panic set in, and it lasted the remainder of my Eiffel experience. I wasn't going to let it stop me: just because something freaks me out, doesn't mean I won't do it.
Now, I don't freak out just going up any old tall structure. And I have no problem with skyscrapers and looking at views from the safety of the building's enclosure. The Eiffel Tower, obviously, isn't enclosed. Sure, there's a metal fence. But tell that to the phobic part of my brain. I kept getting stuck behind slow-moving families, which wasn't helping. Eventually I'd manage to pass them, but it prolonged my discomfort.
I reached the 1st floor and made my way to the edge. I didn't take Niblet out because I kept picturing the scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation when Clark throws Rusty's beret off the Eiffel Tower and some woman's poodle leaps from her arms after it like it's a frisbee. Yes, off the Eiffel Tower.
Luckily poodles are light and so the wind catches it and the poodle ends up in the pool. Still, I didn't want to chance it with Niblet.
The hike to the 2nd floor was similar. Inexplicably, the lines to the elevators to the top wrap around the outside of the 2nd floor. You might think they'd have roped off the queue some other way. Instead, you can't exactly get to the edge to peer over from the 2nd floor unless you are in line.
The line to buy my ticket took less than 20 minutes. The line to the top was 30 or more. My patience was thin (panic attack, remember?) and I wanted to kill the bitch behind me who kept needlessly elbowing and jostling me. I hate that about lines in general. Invading my personal space really isn't going to get ya there any faster.
The top of the Eiffel Tower is divided into two floors. The first, where you exit the elevators, is enclosed by windows. Up a staircase, you reach as high as they'll let you go, surrounded by wind, protected by a mesh fence. No death by Eiffel Tower incidents, merci beaucoup. (No, really, thank you! It's windy up there!)
The crap part is that you have to wait in line again, to get back down to the 2nd floor. So, one tour around the top and I went back down and got in line. Not before stopping to buy myself a shot glass from the souvenir shop at the top. What better way to commemorate conquering a fear than obliterating the memory with booze? If only I'd brought the booze ...
The journey down from the 2nd floor was quick, and as a reward when I was on land once more, I bought myself an ice cream cone. Soft serve choco-vanilla swirl on a cone. MMMMMMMMM. I licked 'til I relaxed, and was very proud of myself. No, the height fear didn't go away. But I did it anyway, and the panic attack never got out of control and it went away quickly once I was on the ground again. Maybe that fear of heights will never completely leave me, but it is nice to know that I'm not so phobic as to let it stop me.
posted by Serrephim | Monday, July 10, 2006
1 Comments:
Your portrayal of your Eiffel tower trip cracks me up, I remember my own visit. It was crowded and they packed so many people onto the elevators that it was ridiculous. There were so many people at the top of the tower that you couldn't even get close enough to the fence to "enjoy" the view. I did elbow my way (sorry but after the effort to get to the top, I wasn't leaving until I'd seen the view) to the outside and took a couple of hurried photos and then as you said, back in line to wait to go down again.
When I hear about people who supposedly propose at the top of the Eiffel tower, I laugh. Must be real romantic with people prodding and pushing and crowding around.
I guess if you're in Paris you must do it at least once but I would not feel the need to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower again.
Now, I hope your future posts include a visit to Pere Lachaise cemetary. It was the best thing I did in Paris. Serene, beautiful, and full of history. Graves of Suerat, Edith Piaf, Chopin, and my favorite Oscar Wilde. His was the first tombstone with Angelic genetalia (if I'm remembering the story correctly).
Anyway, sorry this comment is so long. I've enjoyed reading about your adventures.
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