Artists weren't the only locals we rubbed elbows with on our way to the Eiffle Tower. We knew there was unrest in the suburbs, but had no idea of what was brewing in the City of Lights itself. My first impression of Paris and its inhabitants was that it was an edgey city. It seemed very tense. It was striking to me that everyone, except maybe the younger children, everyone wore dark coats: black or grey or navy. The only color worn was in a scarf - and they all wore scarves - cleverly arranged in "hangman's noose" fashion. It looked smart. And I imagine it is to impress the observer with sophistication. But taken all together, they looked like a city in mourning.
Even when a bevy of white lab-coated demonstrators passed us, we still didn't get it.
The armed soldiers patroling the Eiffel Tower were a grim reminder that we live in the days of constant terrorist threat.
Still, that first day, and for several days after, we roamed the city completely oblivious of the powder keg that was about to explode! (photos by Charlotte Chan)
But once we were at the Eiffle, we were so swept by its very presence, we had a photo frezny! I was absolutely intrigued how something made of iron girders could loom so gracefully against the sky and the landscape. We went up to the second level for pictures, lunch, and a postcard writting sesson. We met a mother with her boys traveling with family, on their way to meet Mickey Mouse. That was the Paris I had hoped to see, to visit with the people and experience life in a culture older, and decidely different than our own.
Imagine all the famous people who have visited this place. I was taken by the small framed poster commemorating Lindeberg's flight. He and so many other reknown individuals have come to this epidomy of Parisian life and culture.
As you approach the Eiffel tower you are met by a momumental glass wall upon which is written Peace in every known language. By meeting the people, visiting with them in their own language - my fumbling French, perhaps in some small way, I could offer my part to make for peace.
Even when a bevy of white lab-coated demonstrators passed us, we still didn't get it.
The armed soldiers patroling the Eiffel Tower were a grim reminder that we live in the days of constant terrorist threat.
Still, that first day, and for several days after, we roamed the city completely oblivious of the powder keg that was about to explode! (photos by Charlotte Chan)
But once we were at the Eiffle, we were so swept by its very presence, we had a photo frezny! I was absolutely intrigued how something made of iron girders could loom so gracefully against the sky and the landscape. We went up to the second level for pictures, lunch, and a postcard writting sesson. We met a mother with her boys traveling with family, on their way to meet Mickey Mouse. That was the Paris I had hoped to see, to visit with the people and experience life in a culture older, and decidely different than our own.
Imagine all the famous people who have visited this place. I was taken by the small framed poster commemorating Lindeberg's flight. He and so many other reknown individuals have come to this epidomy of Parisian life and culture.
As you approach the Eiffel tower you are met by a momumental glass wall upon which is written Peace in every known language. By meeting the people, visiting with them in their own language - my fumbling French, perhaps in some small way, I could offer my part to make for peace.
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