La Tour Eiffel

As Brett climbs, I reflect. I have sat in this spot on the Champs de Mars many times before. Having been up the Eiffel Tower several times I have no need to do so again esp on foot which was Brett's preference. It is getting hot, but he will descend and find me well rested and ready for more walking.

A guy is singing soulful French ballads over there, guitar strumming. Families wander past here. Bodies are sprawled on the lawn before me as I sit under a shady tree on a park bench. People from every land. Hawkers are trying to sell nasty plastic Eiffel Tower models and selfie sticks. Cameras are everywhere.  This is iconic Paris and everyone is capturing the glory. The weather could not be more perfect.

I have many photos of the Tower over the years yet I cannot stop myself taking many more!  Looking up I marvel at how it changes colour in the light. It has a pale rustic sage green patina hue as the sun hits the outer skin, a marvellous lattice work of steel lace tatted by a giant industrial machine. Underneath it appears a deeper olive green, the criss-crosses glaring down upon you, daring you to clim (but not me, been there done that, Brett is up there somewhere!)  Viewed in the shade it seems to be that more dull "tin" colour usually associated with it.  But it is not dull grey at all. Perhaps it has been freshly painted. Whatever, one can never tire of looking at this amazing structure.

The singer is belting out classics now and I am well entertained. He is a cross between Eric Clapton, Engelbert Humperdink and Louis Armstrong. With a hint of BeeGees falsetto. Velvety, raw, deep and powerful, it's an impressive voice. When Brett returns we watch him for a while and buy his CD. Aaron Lordson is his name. He does a great version of Tracey Chapman's "Sorry".

And we will be sorry indeed to leave Paris. 

Brett asks if I prefer London or Paris. That's like asking me to choose between my children. Impossible. But, having lived in London for so many years, it has to have the edge. I know its nooks and crannies,  and its landmarks still make me awestruck. London nurtured me, took my youthful hand and led me down its many paths. London lured me, knocked me down, picked me up, threw me around and showed me its beating heart. It gave me stamina and courage and taught me more than I could ever have imagined. It's a city whose essence dwells deep within my soul.  I love London and I always will. 
And Paris ain't half bad either!

Observation of the Day:  Many of the streets stink of urine, stains leeching deep into the pavements. It is unpleasant. But a darn sight better than the 'walk and spray' I encountered many years ago on a London street!! Walking on top of piss is better than being showered by it, that's.for sure!