The cobblestone paths, the smell of croissants wafting from corner cafés, and bikes strolling by. This is Paris.

“Come on, hurry up!” My mom and sister yell.

I snap out of my trance and run to catch up. The elaborate architecture surrounds us as we make our way towards the Eiffel Tower. Vespa’s zoom past us as we navigate the narrow streets. We stop to look at a corner building. Flowers of all different colors rest on the side of balconies. Vibrant reds, pinks, yellows, and greens cover open white shutters. The sun slowly sets which gives everything an orange tint. Even though the sun is setting, the people are not. We reach a lawn containing a myriad of open wine bottles, containers of salty olives and artisan cheese, and cheerful conversation.
   

We stop to look at all the people. This sight is new and unfamiliar to us. People are outside at night instead of watching television and the open wine bottles don’t bother the nearby police. These people are not rushing, in fact the opposite. They are laughing and content.
 

The top of the Eiffel Tower rises over the buildings, and we walk in its direction. Soon the cobblestone road ends and we approach a park. We walk down a wide dirt path lined with trees until The Eiffel Tower emerges. My mind buzzes with excitement, this is it! I stare at The Eiffel Tower in disbelief, it’s beautiful. There is a seemingly endless lawn acting as the “green carpet” leading to this prominent monument, and it’s full of people. The setting sun rests right next to it and creates a pink background. It looks as though I’m staring at a painting. The moment in front of this ponderous landmark feels surreal. Everyone knows about the Eiffel Tower. It is the setting in thousands of stories, and here I am standing in front of it. 
   

We find an empty spot on the grass and I lay down. The grass feels cold against my warm skin and I close my eyes and listen to the surrounding noises. We unpack our spread of bread, cheese, olives, prosciutto, peaches, and cherries. Then rip pieces of bread and place slice after slice of cheese and prosciutto on top. We eat the peaches and cherries for dessert. Dinner with a view, and a monumental one at that.
   

Locals are dancing, walking their dog, or just sitting. The sense of togetherness is palpable. Once we finish our food we walk towards the entrance of The Eiffel Tower and begin our trek to the top. We choose the stairs over the elevator, wanting to get a better view on the way up. Our shoes clank against the metal steps and we start to get into a rhythm. The increasing height makes my stomach knot, but I know I can’t let my fear get to me. Seven hundred four steps later, once I catch my breath, my fear vanishes. I stare at the beautiful city from a whole new perspective. The sun has set and the buildings light up. We make our way around and the view looks beautiful from every angle. I look out at the Seine and see dinner boats floating up and down the river. I look to the people on the lawn, who now look like ants. In the distance there is a fair and a carousel is spinning around and around.

Montmartre is difficult to miss with the Sacré-Coeur Basilica sitting on top of the hill. From The Eiffel Tower I see this vast city for miles, and every part of it amazes me.
     

As we make our way down the steps the tower starts to twinkle. I check my phone and see that it is eleven o’clock. Later, we learn from a local that every hour the lights of The Eiffel Tower switch off and flashing light bulbs produce twinkling for five minutes every hour.
     

We make it down the tower and there is a mass of tourists. People are taking pictures, buying souvenirs, or just enjoying the view. We decide to take a seat on a bench in front of the tower and watch the commotion. I crane my neck to look at the now fully lit tower. It glows in the darkness. After about fifteen minutes we walk to find a taxi. Once we get back to the hotel I collapse on the bed and my eyes shut instantly. I fall asleep to the sound of people talking, laughing, or even yelling as they walk down the streets to see where the rest of the night takes them.
     

This is Paris. Surrounding yourself with friends and enjoying a beautiful night, relaxing on the grass, or just going on a walk. In America everything needs to be bigger. However, here they cherish the little things. It is in Paris that I learned everything doesn’t have to be elaborate and fast-paced.
   

Albert Einstein said, “The only source of knowledge is experience.” After taking history classes in school I realize I haven’t learned half as much in those classes as I do walking through the street, seeing the culture firsthand, and talking with locals. Nothing can substitute experience.