Atop the iron icon we sipped champagne.
Paris. We were at the top of Paris. It had been a long walk. Every step worthwhile.
The Eiffel Tower enthralled. Massive and demanding of all the senses. Exceeding every expectation with its industrial machination. It just stands there daring you to think and feel anything but wow.
Getting through security wasn’t too bothersome. We then walked past the huge winding queue for the elevators, following the signs toward the stairs. It’s a different ticket for the stairs. Less money for a better experience. And that’s a good combo. The line was short. A dozen people short. We got right in.
The climb wraps you in iron. Endless crisscrossed beams with hundreds of triangulated perfections. Fist sized rivets rounded in contrasting connections to extruded strongholds. Diamond plate echoed deep clanks underfoot, with open steel cages widening the vision while keeping the daring from leaning.
The first level is about 200 feet up. A 20-story building. The smell of metal everywhere. A hard scent. The scent of time but not of rust. Mixing with a bit of salt from my own sweat. Look upward to awe the engineering. Look downward to feel the climb. Look outward. Paris expanding.
Sprawling across more than 14 thousand square feet, the first level is a destination all its own. Fine dining, grab and go cafes, souvenir shops, expansive open-air lounges. And spectacular views. We stayed.
And I’ll toss that in as an unsubtle travel tip. Don't plan another major sight on your Eiffel Tower day. Slow down. Sit down. Just stay.
We had lunch. How the French manage to make a ham and cheese sandwich so perfect is beyond my comprehension. And our Croque Monsieurs and little fizzy waters were less than half the price of getting hot dogs and pops at our local baseball games. Half the price. None of the shops gouged. Even our stair tickets were cheaper than visiting our hometown aquarium.
By the guide-book math, level two was another 190 feet up. You sense the icon narrowing on this part of the climb. Our lunch calories felt burned at what looked like halfway. There was no one ahead nor behind, so our speed was always comfortably our own. Slowing felt demanded as the views became more staggering.
Level Two footprints just under 5000 square feet, and it was here we first felt the push of the crowds. We found macaroons. And cappuccinos. Again, we stayed. The cookies jewels. The sugar subtle. Again, the French impressed, with our coffees perfect. M is a stickler for the right foam, and smack in the middle of the sprawling, gawking, tourism these earned her A+ rating.
The second level energy matched the excitement of knowing the next push would bring the top. But the second stop is where the stairs stop, so the final climb would be on the elevator. There’s more than 500 feet to go. And you get to do it squeezed elbow to elbow in a tiny box with fellow travelers who smell way worse than you. If you are afraid of heights, claustrophobic, or suffer from whatever they call elevator phobia, this ride brings a triple treat.
The queue for the tiny box moved slowly. It took about 30 minutes.
And then the tiny box pulled upwards. Slowly.
On our ascent, a woman whispered aloud.
“This is taking a long time.”
Our mildly terrified silence, at last, broken with laughter.
Paris. Paris with the open door. A Paris we’d never seen before.
And champagne.
It’s not quite the top. The elegant iron continued its curve the final hundred feet above.
The trick was to keep moving. Keep moving around the narrow walkway with the flow of the crowd. I kept reminding myself to breathe. And to spend more time seeing it through my eyes, not my phone. The staggering panoramas of a first visit a life-experience.
Walking and riding up the Eiffel Tower was a treasured mark in our timeline of grander adventures. And yes, we walked back down. Stopping on each level for souvenirs and perhaps there were more macaroons.
And in the iron, we were again reminded, it’s usually best to take the stairs.
1. Photos by Author. Cover photo design by Author.
3. M took the one of me accidently doing the Rick Steves thing.
6. I think M took the tower top selfie.
© Copyright William Hazel, 2024
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