On Tuesday morning we packed up all our belongings and checked out from the hotel without wasting any time to maximise our last day in Paris. As the saying goes, we saved the best for last: a day trip to Versailles and a lift ride up to the summit of the Eiffel Tower.
It was a particularly warm day and the heat was kicking in by the time we got the RER train to Versailles. Once there, we had our first (and thankfully last) real experience of queueing. It took us almost an hour to buy tickets and get through the gates of the Sun King's palace, standing in the sun of course. The most ironic thing was that, with a line of several 100m, there were only 3 cashiers in the ticket office! How efficient of the French! Once past the gates, a whole new world awaited inside. I have never seen so much glamour and extravagance in my life. Louis XIV's palace is undoubtedly the finest piece of royal architecture I have seen to date and I wonder if there is anything more pompously Baroque anywhere else.
The Hall of Mirrors, the King's and Queen's chambers, the lavish use of gold as if it was whitewashing and the priceless paintings and works of art were all surpassed once we set our eyes on the gardens. Although the landscaping itself is "just" trees and shrubs, the scale is immense and, although at a masterplan level all appears to be symmetric, each section is uniquely and individually designed. The strong like of axiality finds its epitome in this vast open space. Truly, magnificent. The sound of Baroque music throughout made the experience more fitting, but it was a huge disappointment to find all fountains being turned off. It would be thrice as magical if there was water flowing and even more enchanting if synchronised with the music.
Following a quick bite in a shaded cafe in the midst of the gardens, we made our way up to the palace again by 4pm and got the train back to Champ de Mars, praying that the queue for the Eiffel Tower would be much shorter than that at Versailles. The prayers were heard since by 5pm we were in the North Pier's elevator on the way up Eiffel's Tower.
Before that day, the highest point I had ever been up to was the Tower 42 in London, a "mere" 183m which is just over half the 300m of the Eiffel Tower. Once on the top (after yet another queue on the 2nd level where we had to change lifts), all the wait and anxiety was totally worthwhile: the view was impeccable. It was a very clear day and we could see all of Paris spread out before us, almost like an architectural scale model.
We lingered around for a good 45 minutes until it was time to head back to the Gare du Nord and get the Eurostar train back to London. And thus, with 1032 photos in my camera, several blisters on my feet (which luckily collaborated greatly), tired calves and an evident suntan from the wait at Versailles, we arrived at King's Cross and eventually Earl's Court, home sweet home.
My verdict of Paris is very plain and simple: it is one of those cities which you have to visit in your life. The monuments it endorses are unique to Europe and indeed the world but the magical aura which surrounds them is somewhat depreciated by the compromised cleanliness of the streets and infrastructure. The French could spare a few thousand euros to pave their open spaces and get rid of all that dust and also use a fraction of their nuclear power to light up their capital's fountains and buildings. Perhaps it is still a time of recession in France, which gives me a good enough reason to revisit Paris in the future!
Now back in London, it is time to resume minding the gap, to keep switching from summer in the morning to autumn in the afternoon and, sadly, to get back to work.
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