Paris, honestly
reviewed.

On the hour after dark, the whole tower glitters for five minutes. Free, ridiculous, genuinely moving. Watch from the Champ de Mars grass or Trocadéro with something to drink.

The queue can devour half a day, and the best views of Paris include the tower — which you can't see from inside it. Book the earliest slot or admire from below and spend the hours saved in a café.

With a strategy: book a time slot, pick one wing, give it three hours, leave wanting more. Warning from the department of broken hearts: it's closed on Tuesdays.

A small painting behind glass, behind two hundred raised phones. See her once from the side of the room, nod respectfully, then go spend real time with the Winged Victory staircase nobody photographs.

At sunset, unapologetically touristy and completely correct. The city was built to be admired from its river. The cheap one-hour boat is the same river as the fancy one.

Go before 9am, when it's a village of bakeries and stairs instead of a crowd simulator. The view from the basilica steps is the postcard. By noon: leave.

A traffic-adjacent mall with the same brands as your airport. Walk it once for the Arc de Triomphe, then shop the Marais, where Paris actually gets dressed.

A universal law of travel: anywhere a man with a menu invites you in, the kitchen has given up. Walk two streets in any direction and eat where the menu is in French only.

On a two-day trip, no — Paris deserves both days. On four-plus, yes: go early, do the gardens first, and know it's closed Mondays. The Hall of Mirrors survives its own hype.

The tourist-shop boxes are fine; the great pâtisseries are transcendent. One proper splurge stop, eaten slowly on a bench, beats five grab-and-go bags. This is France — dessert is a museum too.