Tour

In grocery stores in Paris, they sell wine by the glass.

Not a plastic glass, either. A real glass. Made...well...of glass. They have little foil lids on top that you have to peel back to get at the wine inside.

This is what gave me the idea.

I had entered the store simply to grab a sandwich and maybe a beer for my dinner. I didn't intend to do anything fancy. It was grab and go only. I wanted to see Paris!

I had just checked into my hostel up the street. I had barely taken the time to stow my stuff and shake hands with my Aussie room-mates before I was off. This was my first time in Paris, and I was only here for 48 hours. I wanted to see as much as I could!

Besides, if I wanted to sit in a hostel and chat with Australians, I needn't have gone all the way to France. I could have just stayed in the UK. Europe is thick with Australians, this time of year. One could scarcely swing a cat around without hearing

"Oi! Watch where your swinging that cat, mate!"*

To add to my excitement, I could see the Eiffel Tower from my street. I took it as a sign...a beacon, if you will. I wanted to walk the streets of Paris, and now I had something to walk to! This was when I popped into the grocery, spotted the wine, and got the idea. The cheesiest, most cliche, most awesome idea I've ever had.**

I would have a picnic!

Who cares if it's the middle of January? Ignore the Parisians bundling by, complaining loudly of "le froid"! This is Paris! The city of romance! What is more romantic than a picnic?***

The fact that I was alone didn't phase me one bit. I had the perfect date all lined up. She was a beautiful girl, dressed all in gold. She had been eyeing me up ever since I stepped onto the street. She was beckoning to me now, as I exited the grocery store with my glass of wine, mini-bottle of wine (because who drinks just one glass of wine?), baguette, and small wedge of cheese.

A picnic with the Eiffel Tower. Now that's a date!

Let me pause for a moment and talk about towers. Being from Toronto (another city with a famous tower), I feel I can discuss them with authority. When a city builds a tower, it's making a grand statement. It is altering it's skyline with the express purpose of saying "here we are!". A city's tower is both staple and steeple. It sets that city apart from every other metropolis that surrounds it.

Too bad the CN Tower is so fucking lame.

For starters, it lacks elegance. There are no winding spires stretching skyward. No twists and turns to give it a comely shape. It's just a big concrete stick, jabbed into the ground, with a bulb on top. It's awkward and somewhat embarrassing to look at. The CN Tower is like that Tweety Bird tattoo you got when you were drunk. It's the architectural equivalent to an that boner you got as a teenager, that you had to cover up with your math book.

No...it's just a pencil in my pocket! Honest!

The Eiffel Tower is different. It straddles Paris and stares at you until you want to look away first. Its metalwork is a zigzag of dizzying wonder. It is a giant piece of art that stretches it's influence past Paris, past France, and into the imaginations of everyone who has ever wanted to travel.

If the Eiffel Tower were human, she would be an older, sophisticated woman. One who is impossible to please. She would catch your eye and hold it, accepting every drink you buy for her, but never taking you home. She would make you work for every second you spend for her, and you wouldn't regret a minutiae of the time.

If the CN Tower were human, he would be a pot-bellied, middle-aged man with a bald spot. His shirt would be too tight, and he would wear a huge belt buckle. He would frequent singles bars and stare creepily at girls who are too young for him. When he danced, he'd try to grind with everyone until somebody punched him in the face.

But I digress. The picnic!

I snatched up my horrible cliche French supplies and trotted excitedly down the street. Soon I would be dining under her arches! Toasting her parapets! Drinking in her flying buttresses!**** She may be a beautiful woman who is impossible to please, but I was certain that, in my own humble way, I would woo her.

It is at this point that I'd like to mention another fact about towers in cities. They always appear much, much closer then they actually are.

Take, for example, my home tower. I can easily see the CN Tower from my tiny little porch. But it's still 5 miles away. I use it to measure my distance when running. Since I work just under the tower, my run in to work is always marked with frequent glances up at the tower. The fact that it looms over me as I approach my destination has always been a tiny source of pride for me. To run from my home to the tower is a sign of a run well done. I can run to it in under 45 minutes. I can run up its stairs in under 15.

It took much longer to reach Ms. Eiffel. For over two hours I scurried through the streets of Paris. Occasionally she'd peek out from between the ancient buildings, and my strength would be renewed. Often I would lose my bearings (I have a horrible sense of direction), and would have to stop, pull out my map, and orient myself before carrying on. I kept bearing South, determined to make it to my picnic. But "le froid" was starting to wear on me, and I was getting hungry.

I almost lost hope. At one point I even sat down, tore off a crust of baguette, and bit into it, angry and frustrated. But I knew I was getting close, so I got up and kept going. Finally, rounded a corner, and there she was! Big and golden and more beautiful, up close, then I ever thought she'd be!

I found a quiet bench, peeled the foil off my wine glass, held it up to her, and nodded a silent toast. I'm pretty sure she winked at me.

After I finished my picnic, I climbed onto her lift and let her show me her city.

Best. Picnic. Ever.

I suppose I shouldn't be so hard on the old CN Tower. It tries it's best. But a picnic underneath it just seems...lame. I could always stare up at it while eating a hot dog, though.

And it could be worse. I could be living in Calgary. Their tower is just fucking pathetic.

Jim out.

*Jimmy Kayak does not advocate the swinging of cats. Nor does he advocate hitting Australians with cats. Both are a really bad idea.

**In a grocery, on Rue Caulaincourt, in Paris, France.

***Lot's of things. Including a picnic under the Eiffel Tower in July.

****I'm not sure if the Eiffel tower has flying buttresses. But it's a funny term.