Finally, we find it.
‘Would you like me to take you up the Eiffel Tower?’ I ask Lady Barton St Mary. She looks at me balefully.
‘So, we have to queue to get through the security gate?’ she enquires.
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘Then we have to queue again to get in the lift or go up the stairs?’
She thinks for a moment.
‘How long will that take? Three hours? Three and a half?’
‘Probably,’ I confirm. She puffs out her cheeks and emits a small chuckle.
‘I’m not sure I could be arsed,’ she says in her crystal clear, properly pronounced English accent. A worried look passed across her face.
‘But we’re here, under the Eiffel Tower and we’re not going up to the top.’ We both ponder this for a moment.
‘Never mind,’ I say reassuringly, ‘we can always look at the view on the internet.’ I make a few taps on my iPhone.
‘Look! There’s a 360 degree panoramic view which we can watch through our cardboard virtual reality viewer when we get home! Job done!’
‘Yes, I suppose,’ she replies, looking at the long, winding snake of miserable people underneath the tower, behind the wire mesh of the security fence.
‘Besides, we can use the 34 euros we would have spent to queue up for half a day to buy gin, pastis and macaroons,’ I explain.
She’s already heading back to the Champs-Elysees.
‘Come on,’ she says, ‘ I know a lovely cafe that sells delicious cakes not far from here.’
She’s starting to come around to my way of thinking when it comes to city breaks