Where's the pride?

(Continued from Saturday) After leaving the Pantheon, we headed down the street towards Luxembourg station. A street was blocked to traffic. There was a crowd at the end of the street and the thump of distant music. Ooooh! Paris has provided street entertainment for us. Closer to the action, when we could hear more than the bassline, the Scissor Sisters' I Don't Feel Like Dancing told us that it must have been the Pride march.

But where was the pride? No flamboyance, no razzamatazz, no infectious exuberance, nothing even slightly risqué; just a few trucks and wanderers, promotions for safe sex, Amnesty International, and bouncy music. I've seen more excitement at an accountants' party.

I guess here in Paris, all the pride is spent on the nation and its symbols. On Sunday evening we wandered around the Eiffel tower at twilight.

In a ruthless reductionist mood, I tried to capture the core of the tower.