As we walked down the streets of Paris, S questioned the city's reputation of being the most romantic city in the world. Perhaps I was merely tired and foot-sore after walking what seemed like a million miles all over Versailles, but I agreed with her. It was damp, cold and everybody spoke a strange language. And then we looked up and gasped. The Eiffel Tower! All lit up at night..
As we excitedly posed in front of the Tower (in every possible combination), we marvelled at the feat of engineering and the beauty of the design. Simple, elegant lines wrought of metal lit by glowing bulbs; flashing intermittently and drawing everyone's eyes.. Gorgeous.. and yet, I still didn't see how Paris could be all that romantic a city.
So we went on our way exploring Paris as all tourists do.. walking down the Champs de Elysses, admiring the glass pyramid at the Louvre, lazing in the chairs at the Jardin Tuillieres and taking pictures everywhere. Even the pretty little terrace at our cozy hotel room didn't inspire me to poetry!
Until the next night when, after going up and down the Eiffel Tower, my husband walked me across the river to the Palais de Chaillot. As he cuddled me, I enjoyed my chocolate crepes on the steps and gazed across the Seine to the Eiffel Tower.. it hit me.. this was easily one of the most romantic moments of our lives... and some of my cynicism faded. Paris may not be the most romantic cities is the world for me but boy, it sure comes close!