I first saw the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day 1999 and despite the fact that there was an electronic clock counting down the days until the new millennium attached to her legs, I instantly fell in love with her. (You must excuse me for using ‘her’ but somehow ‘it’ seems too impersonal.) I was prepared to be impressed but I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful she is, her intricate ironwork, her beautiful burnished brown colour, her delicate beauty. My friend Barbra and I spent several hours lying on the bridge, waiting for Bastille Day fireworks, gazing at her, barely even talking.
I have returned twice to visit her, each time prepared to be disappointed, and each time she takes my breathe away. I love the way you can be strolling along a Paris Boulevarde, turn a corner, and there she is, sometimes misty in the distance and sometimes standing clear and proud and beautiful.
I love to share some photos, but I have yet to see a photo that does her justice!!

Our first view, across Place de la Concorde

It’s a bit dark, and the poor lady has no head, but just to prove I was there!

A painting in a nearby cafe

From the steps of Sacre Coeur, Montmatre/

Adieu bonne dame, Jusqu’à ce que nous nous revoyions (until we meet again)