Napoleons monstrous monument to power - the Arc de Triomphe and Bois de Bologne Review

actonsteve's review

but I strayed into a section inhabited by wild haired women in leggings. These were the famous Brazilian transvestite prostitutes I'd read about

From From the heights of Montmatre to the buzz of the Champs Elysee in Paris, France on May 09 '97

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Arc de Triomph from Avenue Foche
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If you are going to make your monument look impressive - set it in somewhere spectacular.

The Arc de Triomphe has that spectacular setting. It stands in an island at the end of the Champs Elysee. When you view it from the Champs Elysee you can see through its legs all the way down Avenue Armee to to the great hollow cube of La Defense and its surrounding skyscrapers. Eastwards you can see down ten lanes of the Champs Elysee all the way to the Tuileries gardens. And if you look hard enough you can actually see the Louvre glass pyramid.

Underneath the Arc
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But its the size of the thing which impresses. It stand on an island surrounded by five lanes of suicidal drivers all honking and pushing each other to get around this massive roundabout. I took the underpass and emerged on the island. Underneath the four 100ft high legs were a list of Napoleons generals and battle successes. Since most of the tourists seemed to be fellow Europeans I wonder how they felt seeing this monomunt to their past enemy?

At the southwest rim of the Etoile Avenue Foche heads off into the 16th Arondissement. This is where "old money" Paris lives and it has a patrician air. Three is serious money here and it keeps itself to itself with agencies making sur they dont have to date people outside the arondissement. I walked the whole of the Avenue Foche to the splurge of green at the end. That splurge of green is the Bois de Bologne a Victorian era park where I felt I deserved a lie down on the grass and a relax.

The view from the Champs Elysee.
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Twenty minutes later when I got there I found it wasnt a park of wide lawns and spaces but a forest in the middle of the city. There were hundreds of little trails leading through the woods and there were people walkng their tiny poodles and terriers but I strayed into a section inhabited by wild haired women in leggings. These were the famous Brazilian transvestite prostitutes I'd read about. They became very numerous and it began to feel rather sordid so I hastily beat a retreat.

But the area east of here was very beautiful. Passy stretches from the Bois to the Etoile and was a classy area full of haute coutre boutiques, flower stalls and art galleries.

To recover from my exertions into the Bois and aching feet I found a cafe and ordered up a vin blanc. Not cheap, but I had had a shock - I felt I deserved it.