What not to do in Paris, France

by Elizabeth Isakson (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown USA

Lor and I were backpacking around Europe for a month. Mostly we were searching for wonders off the beaten tourist path. But a quick 24 hour stop in Paris gave us plenty of time to go see the Eiffel Tower. Or so we thought. We were due to arrive by train around 8pm. After several delays, we arrived in Gare du Nord around midnight. Our plan was to metro over to the Eiffel Tower, take an iconic photo, and then metro to Gare Montparnasse where tomorrow afternoon our next train would depart. Although we were already later than expected, we assumed we still had plenty of time. We found the metro and made it to the Eiffel Tower. Or at least the nearest metro stop. In the dark we struggled to find the signs pointing us in the right direction. Elation took over when it finally came into view. The tower glowed; it was our beacon of success. As a proud amateur photographer, I decided we needed to walk to the end of the boulevard for the best photo. Lor agreed. Our backpacks although overstuffed, seemed light now. However, the path seemed to go on forever. It was after 1am and we were the only ones here. Not another tourist in sight, nor any locals. Lor collapsed when we reached the street. I set up the camera, and started to play with settings in order to capture both the lights on the tower and our dark faces. Without additional lighting available though, those turned out to be the worst photos of our trip. A car drove up and made us wary, suddenly very aware of how alone we were. Luckily twinkling lights distracted us from our thoughts of impending doom. It was the Eiffel Tower, putting on a light show! We looked at the time and noticed it was exactly 2am. The lights stopped and the car drove away. Lor and I looked at each other confused. The lights hadn’t just stopped twinkling, they had been turned off completely. For some reason we had both assumed that they stayed on throughout the night. However, Paris is a bit more environmentally conscious than the United States where we are from. Or at least that was our guess as to why they never came back on. We attempted some more photos before packing up the camera and hiking back to the metro stop. But once there, another surprise awaited us. The gates were locked. The only thing moving here were the homeless people setting up their camp for the night. My heartrate spiked. It was the middle of the night, and we were 3 kilometers from our train station. But we had no choice, we had to walk. The most direct route was to go back the direction we had just come from. Past the Eiffel Tower, which Lor suggested we sleep under for novelty sake, and past where we had taken photos. I was not about to be unconscious outside in the middle of Paris. We had to stop several times to rest our feet and backs, so the trip took over an hour. When we finally looked at the map and saw we were standing at the train station, it was the backside. Giddy with exhaustion and anticipation of sleep, we walked around to the front. Lights were on inside. People were hanging around outside. Music was playing. I ran–as much as one carrying an oversized backpack can after just walking 3 kilometers – to the door. The music played a crescendo. The door was locked. The music dropped alternating tones in a mocking manner. I looked around, the only other people here were clearly homeless. We were devastated. The only thing we thought to do was keep walking. Within a meter we came to another building with lights on, and someone was inside. The door was locked but the man, probably a security guard, came out. In broken French I convinced him to let us sleep on the ground inside. Although we barely closed our eyes before it was 5:30am and the man was telling us the station was open and we needed to leave.