CHAPTER 165

Original: 2014-05-27

Rewritten: 2026-07-10

One dream my wife, our younger son, and I fulfilled together was to explore Paris by circling the Arc de Triomphe.

Among all the highlights of Paris, our top choices were the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower. The former exudes majestic classical elegance, while the latter represents modernity. The Arc de Triomphe embodies both glory and tragedy, leaving visitors awestruck and emotionally stirred. The Eiffel Tower is not particularly attractive when viewed up close, but from its summit the panoramic view of Paris is simply breathtaking. Standing one in the north and the other in the south, these two landmarks became our points of reference—we could never lose our way.

Since we planned to spend each day exploring one of the grand avenues radiating from the Arc de Triomphe, we stayed at a hotel nearby. It was a charming three-star French-style building. Our room was on the third-floor attic level. Though small, it had been newly renovated. Looking through the tall French windows, sunlight streamed past the planter boxes filled with bright red flowers on the balcony railings, adding a delightful holiday atmosphere.

The hotel's breakfast offered a "buy two, get one free" deal, making it excellent value. Every morning, each of us enjoyed three servings of French bread, a large pot of hot chocolate, yogurt, applesauce, and orange juice. Most guests from other countries kept to themselves, so we could only strike up casual conversations with fellow travelers from North America.

After such hearty breakfasts, we relied on walking to burn off the calories.

The hotel sat at the border between the tourist district and a residential neighborhood. A secondary school stood directly across the street. Transportation was convenient, and there were plenty of restaurants nearby. However, few were reasonably priced. Fortunately, we found a family-run Japanese restaurant, and almost every evening its rice, vegetables, meat, and soup rescued our stomachs from an endless diet of cheese. After returning to Vancouver, I stopped eating French bread for quite a while.

A twenty-minute walk southeast of the hotel brought us to the Arc de Triomphe, from which eleven grand avenues radiate in all directions. Directly ahead lies the Champs-Élysées, originally built for the French monarchy and still impressively grand today. Now shared by both pedestrians and traffic, visitors' eyes constantly wander from one luxury boutique window to another in search of the world's finest brands.

About two kilometres east-southeast along the avenue stands Place de la Concorde, where the ancient Egyptian Luxor Obelisk—acquired through a mixture of diplomacy and opportunism—now dominates the square. To its north stands one of the city's most luxurious hotels, where a single night's stay costs around €8,000.

It was also here that King Louis XVI and his queen, Marie Antoinette, were executed by guillotine during the French Revolution, at different locations within the square.

To the east lies the Tuileries Garden. About a kilometre farther is the Jardin des Tuileries, both of which once served as exhibition grounds for the Paris World's Fair. At the southern end stands a massive building that was originally a railway station and has since been transformed into a magnificent art museum enclosed in glass.

East of the gardens stands the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, facing the Louvre Museum. Along this perfectly straight three-kilometre axis are no fewer than nine major landmarks—there is simply too much for the eyes to take in.

Crossing the Seine from Place de la Concorde via the bridge financed by Tsar Alexander III of Russia, we learned that it commemorates the Franco-Russian Alliance before the First World War and foreshadowed the geopolitical alignment that shaped the coming conflict.

Across the bridge stands the French National Assembly. As we were crossing, police sirens suddenly blared through the air. We later learned that traffic police were escorting the newly appointed Prime Minister to Parliament with an impressive motorcade.

Nearby is Les Invalides, built by King Louis XIV and now home to the Army Museum. The greatest attraction is undoubtedly the opportunity to see the simple yet dignified reddish-brown marble sarcophagus of the legendary Napoleon Bonaparte. He rests here in eternal sleep, making French history feel vividly real.

A cruise along the Seine inevitably passes the Île de la Cité, the birthplace of Paris. Notre-Dame Cathedral, with nearly a thousand years of history, stands on the island. It is also the setting of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. I still remember watching the old black-and-white film as a child, with its hunchbacked hero whose bald crown resembled a bird's nest and whose appearance was strikingly unattractive.

During our stay, we joined four walking tours and one evening coach tour. We visited the Palais de Tokyo, the Louvre, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, passed by the Moulin Rouge, wandered through the Latin Quarter, and tasted blue cheese and delicate French pastries for the first time.

We were also surprised to find a law school whose back walls were covered with graffiti, and we saw the hotel from which Princess Diana departed shortly before the tragic accident that claimed her life—it happened to be under renovation at the time. We visited the oldest church and oldest houses in Paris, each with centuries of history. We even deliberately walked along ancient cobblestone streets once reserved for the upper classes. The centre of the road dipped slightly to collect the waste that people in earlier centuries simply threw out of their windows.

A young and beautiful tour guide sang a classic French love song, instantly capturing our younger son's heart—a performance he still remembers fondly. We, too, have never forgotten Paris: its tree-lined boulevards, vehicles weaving effortlessly through traffic, the stylish and handsome Parisians, rows of elegant seven-storey French buildings, the dazzling dome of Galeries Lafayette, the increasingly familiar Arc de Triomphe, and the vast open sky.

The three of us were certain we would return to Paris together one day. Sadly, my younger son and I know that this dream can never be fulfilled.