As the city came out of the darkness of night, we crossed the Seine in silence. Without the traffic we walked right down the centre of the street and not far away lay The Eiffel Tower, like a skeleton of metal projecting up into a sky that was rapidly becoming blue. A morning like this should be foggy, misty at the least, but in contrast to our mood it looked determined to be a story-book perfect day in Paris - only without any parisians daring to leave their homes. Perhaps we should be hiding too, but we won't. Leroy has the transmission device and from the top of the tower we should get a good reception.

Standing at the base looking up I can truly say I never appreciated its size. The legs are as far apart as your average town plaza and the metal is dull. I reach out to touch it, cold of course. But then what was I expecting? We push on for the stairs, no electricity means no elevators and to be honest I don't think I could get in a little box right now anyway. The clang of our feet on the steps echoes around and by instinct I look around, fearful. No-one comes. Of course no-one comes. We're the only idiots foolish enough to try. We climb countless stairs until we reach the top, a far smaller space than below and I rush to the edge - Paris. It's spread out, a living map of classic architecture...

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 23, 2015.