The Eiffel Tower is Crazier Than you Can Possibly Imagine
After eight days away, I finally returned home to Texas yesterday. My vacation plan was to write at night, and I managed to create one…
After eight days away, I finally returned home to Texas yesterday. My vacation plan was to write at night, and I managed to create one article during the past week, but after all of the walks, busses, subways, and trains, my mind was mush.
And so, I returned from touring two major cities, London and Paris, with over 3,000 photos between me and my wife, feet that want to divorce me, children who slept nearly 10 hours last night, and thoughts I'm finding hard to place into words.
As the trip ended, I thought about the first article I would write at home, which filled me with anxiety. Would I have some profound thoughts? Would seeing two of the world's most famous (and expensive) cities cause a profound new understanding? In some regards, yes. It did.
So, I want to examine the trip over a series of articles, and the first is the Eiffel Tower.
The steel beams are painted a dark brown, which peels in some places to reveal a bright orange. The elevators, accessible from a few different ‘feet’ are triple layered. In other words, there are three separate elevator floors stacked on each other which can be loaded with people. One floor is used on the way down and another on the way up. The elevator operator sits inside with a control panel for moving up or down.
On the first level, you’ll find gift shops, a few restaurants, and food stands, with a wooden patio floor with chairs and tables to eat. It’s an entire shopping mall, all within one tower.
From the top, the 14-story tall Arc de Triomphe seems to be a tiny Lego piece.
The old buildings appear to be painted the same color; a magnificent white with shades of orange and yellow hues from the setting sun.
Also, at the top, you’ll find a small apartment the creator build for himself. Currently, it contains his books, desks, and wax figures of himself, his daughter, and Thomas Edition, who gave him a copy of the original phonograph.
But the tower had left the best for last. At 9:15 PM, almost as if planned to match our arrival at the top, the sun began to set.
After enjoying the view, we descended, ate pizza on the first floor, purchased souvenirs, and reached the ground.
Looking back, the tower lit up like a candle against the dark grey clouds of night. Searchlights found at the summit spun to illuminate the night sky as a beacon for Parisians to look on with awe.
I’ve moved more than I’d like in my life. As I leave home for the final time, I pause to look at an empty house. A house once full of love and laughter is now like an empty page waiting for the start of a new chapter.
When our train left for London at the end of our eighth day, I performed the same ritual. I looked back to see, off in the distance, an illuminated masterpiece and whispered goodbye. A journey once filled with sights, sounds, and family was only a faint and distant object, soon to exist only in photos, memories, and stories.
Perhaps it’s the old Taoist idea that words are not the Tao, and the Tao is not words, which causes me to lose what I hold most dear; my ability to express emotions through words on a screen.
The Eiffel Tower is crazier than you can possibly imagine.
