August 1, 2006
Our last day in Paris was spent at the Eiffel Tower.
Taking a small picnic lunch of bread and cheese, we set off in the metro and found ourselves facing the massive structure. Completed in 1889 for the World's Fair, it was due for demolition in 1909, but was allowed to stand because of its ideal use as a radio tower.
We stood in line for at least one hour while the previously sunny sky began to darken and rain began to fall. The wind started to pick up and once we were at the ticket counter we were only allowed to purchase tickets to the middle part of the tower because of safety concerns related to the wind.
When we got to the second floor it was already very wet and cold, but we could get a great view of the city. After a while, we noticed a growing line in front of an elevator with a sign pointing upwards so we looked around and found that we could buy tickets to the top for only a few euros more.
Finally, after a pleasant and ear-popping ascent in the elevator we were at the top of the tower with an amazing view of Paris. The sun finally came out and we were treated with some beautiful scenery.
Afterwards we had some pizza at a popular little Italian place where the owner did shots of Italian liquor as his regular customers paid their bills.
Once back at the hostel we heard there was to be another outing to the Eiffel tower with some of our fellow backpackers, this time at night.
The tower is a different building in the evening with golden lights beaming from all sides and angles. As we approached the tower on the metro, it started flashing hundreds of lights and we pointed at it in awe. We then quickly realized tat we were looking at a reflection of the tower in the window of the train car and everyone, including, of course, the Parisians sitting near us, laughed at our stupidity.
The lights on the tower stopped flashing as we got closer as they apparently only flash for five minutes every hour.
After taking pictures, we headed back to the hostel on the metro, but it closed right as we got off to transfer to another train. So we headed back in separate taxis. Dropped off across from the Moulin Rouge, Hiro and I along with Lena, a Swedish native, walked down to the hostel through the red-light district of Pigalle.
At one point, Lena was accosted by a young middle-eastern-looking man holding a bottle of Heineken in one hand. Immediately, Hiro and I got between him and Lena and I told him to go away and waved my hands to show that we didn't want his company. Not taking no for an answer, he became aggressive and grabbed my arm and said "Ni hao," apparently trying to get on my good side by speaking Chinese. Tired with dealing with inconsiderate assholes, I pulled his arm off me. He began to get threatening and pretended to reach for a knife or some other weapon in his pocket. He then got his hand up in Hiro's face, at which point Hiro shoved him away and yelled, "Fuck off, Iraqi!" I noticed that there was a group of people watching us from a restaurant, so I was glad to know we weren't alone as this transpired. The man grinned stupidly and reached for Hiro's butt and, inexplicably, poked it and ran off.
I was pretty impressed with the way Hiro got the guy to finally go away as was Lena. He probably should have asked for her number.
The night ended with us saying our farewells to to the rest of the travelers, sharing our stories of our stay, and exchanging e-mails. Next stop, Switzerland.