Two nights ago, we returned to the Eiffel Tower in the dark. On the hour after nightfall (nine), the Tower lights up. It looks like thousands of tiny flash bulbs are going off all over the structure. I exclaimed, “Look, it is taking pictures of us!”
During the display, two small girls (probably six and eight) tried to take M’s phone (he had put it down between us as he was using his Nikon). They instigated a form of shell game in the dark; they put some advertisements, as in a grocery circular or something similar, on the grass and were pointing at things they wanted. It was as if we asked them to compile a shopping list, but we had not invited them into our space. In the end, after M confronted them, one put her hands above her head. In the confusion, one must’ve dropped the phone because it was close by in the grass. This all happened in less than two minutes, and then M returned to taking photos.
There are actual shell games played on the route to the Tower (for willing participants and fifty Euro a game). There are men selling key chains, shooting stars, and tiny lighted Eiffels that alternate primary colors in the night sky. In the grassy area where people recline on the cool lawns to watch the light show, other men hawk beer and champagne over our audible awe.
There are souvenirs everywhere. My favorites are the glimpses of the Eiffel as we emerge from a tunnel, round a corner, look up from the dark.
shewhodaresnothing 