A trip, huh...
To be honest, even in the 21st century, I wasn't much of a traveller. Not for any particular reason... I just didn't have the time.
When you're writing daily serials, there's never time to build up a buffer, and that means you're always short on time.
Plus, I've always leaned more towards being a homebody, so I didn't go out much. I'm comfortable at home.
That's why, ironically, I've been more active in getting around since coming to the 19th century.
It's not that I've been travelling more since my debut as a writer, but rather because I've been accompanying Mr. Miller on business trips to places like France and Belgium.
In a way, it feels like I've returned to my old life since debuting as a writer.
So, I'm not unhappy! I've simply been doing my best for my readers and for money!
"Without work to keep you busy, your daily outbursts are getting worse."
Ouch. Mr. Miller's jab stings.
Anyway, that's how I ended up running around so much.
Mr. Miller is such a laid-back guy that he'd mix in some sightseeing along the way.
Of course, those were still business trips, so they weren't exactly the same as a vacation...
"Enough of that, to get to the point, you just want to take the kids on a trip, right?"
"Yes, what do you think?"
"No, it's not happening."
Huh? I looked at Mr. Miller, who was cutting off the idea sharply with a confused expression.
As I mentioned, he's a pretty easygoing guy who enjoys sightseeing even on business trips. But now he's suddenly saying no? What's going on?
"You think you can score points by ditching me? No way. Let's just make it a family trip. Where do you want to go?"
"Oh... sure."
There we go. That's the Mr. Miller I know.
Since I didn't have any pressing desire to go anywhere in particular, I decided to ask for others' opinions.
"I want to go to America! How about America? They say it's booming these days."
"What's America? It's gotta be France!!"
"Hm, what do you think?"
"At a time like this..."
I couldn't take sides. One of them would get upset. But I know a miraculous way to decide. It's a time-honored method that's worked many times before.
"Here you go."
I handed them a chessboard. They knew exactly what I meant.
Now, fight it out.
"I won!!"
"You're such a cheat!"
"Wanna go again?!"
"... Damn it."
And the winner was Madge.
Hmm, from what I saw, their skills were evenly matched, but Madge's outside-the-box tactics weren't bad. Her subtle psychological warfare, pressing down as the older sister and irritating the opponent, was no joke.
It seems I've learned a lot from the dormitory.
Look at Monty, who's so rattled.
Anyway, France... it's not a bad choice.
Having been influenced so much by England, the term "frog" sticks to my lips first, but to be honest, calling France a frog during this period is more about jealousy than contempt.
In an era when the United States is still a secondary power, French is practically the international language of the Belle Époque, just as the term "Belle Époque" itself is French.
And among all that, Paris.
Paris is famous as the city of art, home to many painters, writers, and musicians.
Monet painted his pond series, and Cézanne painted boats and fruit.
Rodin completed his sculpture of The Thinker, and Debussy composed his preludes.
The first motorsport event also took place in Paris, between Paris and Rouen.
I remember seeing an interview with the previous winner, Albert Leclerc of Peugeot.
Emile Zola fought tirelessly to defend Dreyfus, and Marcel Proust wrote "In Search of Lost Time"... although that was about ten years later, I believe. Anyway.
Unfortunately, the greatest French literary genius of this time, Guy de Maupassant, passed away two years ago. From syphilis.
I had hoped to meet him someday, but it's a shame.
Is it that all genius short story writers, like Oscar Wilde, end up leading such tragically short lives? Why do they waste their brief lives like this?
Anyway.
I stopped my musings and looked at the view before me.
There was the Eiffel Tower, an architectural marvel that Guy de Maupassant had despised in his lifetime, and which England, in its jealousy, had tried to rival with the Blackpool Tower—a monstrosity that failed miserably to be completed.
The Eiffel Tower was right in front of me.
"Wow, it's so big!!"
"That's the Eiffel Tower, Miss Madge."
I laughed and pushed Mary's stroller along.
Yes, I was now in Paris, France with our children: Madge, Monty, and Mary.
Since Plymouth was so close, it was a quick trip by boat.
Mr. Miller and Mrs. Clara were sent off for a romantic outing, while I took responsibility for the children and explored.
The kids clearly understood, now that they're all grown up.
Hmm. I wonder if I'll be able to see the fourth one?
"Hanslow, Hanslow!! Look, that's the Seine River!"
"What's that? Isn't it just a stream?"
Madge, who attaches significance to the Seine River, and Monty, who's unimpressed by its unimposing width, clearly showed their different perspectives.
Well, they're not wrong.
Unlike Seoul's Han River or London's Thames, the Seine is surprisingly not that large.
It's just the way it is. While the Han River at its point in Seoul is nearly 1km wide, the Seine in Paris is only about 100–200 meters wide. You could almost swim across it.
But the view is stunning.
In the middle of the river are the islands of Île Saint-Louis and Île de la Cité, where landmarks like Notre-Dame Cathedral, the Louvre Museum, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower are lined up.
In other words, it's the ultimate photo opportunity.
I gave Monty a gentle push and handed him Mary's stroller.
"Alright, young master. Don't be difficult, and go stand next to Miss Madge."
"With my sister? Why bother..."
"I'll take a picture for you."
"Madge!! Stand over there!!"
See, kids do love taking pictures, don't they?
I smiled and pulled out a large camera from under Mary's stroller. Despite its appearance, this is a camera sponsored by Lewis Carroll.
Kodak No.1 box camera.
Holding this cutting-edge marvel of civilization, I struck a pose.
Of course, compared to the 21st century, it's quite cumbersome, heavy, and annoying, but it's worth it to capture the kids.
There's a saying that the only thing you bring back from a trip is photos, right?
"Alright, we're taking the picture. One, two, cheese~"
"Hanslow, what's 'cheese'?"
"Now that you mention it, I do sometimes say I want to eat that."
"Alright, quiet now!!"
After a few minutes, I finally gave the OK sign, and the tired kids flopped down.
Well, it's unavoidable.
The technology is still a bit awkward and takes time. Plus, you can't check it on the spot.
Is this what qualifies as cutting-edge... Hmm, it's still quite inconvenient.
"Can we take a few more pictures...?"
"No, we can't."
"Buy us some crêpes."
"Crêpes~?"
"Yes, yes."
The kids quickly lost focus and gave up, as expected.
I looked around.
The banks of the Seine in Paris were famous tourist spots, lined with various street vendors.
I approached a crêpe stand among them and ordered a set of crepes.
"Here, a set of crepes..."
"
"<... A set of crepes.>"
"
Good grief. I took the crepes from the vendor, shaking my head.
As I did, I overheard the French around me whispering.
"
""
"
Ugh. These baguette-scented frogs are incorrigible. They're just born racists.
I was relieved that the kids didn't understand French yet.
Of course, I'd heard that kind of thing often in London.
But from my experience travelling across Europe, the hatred for foreigners on the mainland—especially discrimination against the English—was far more intense compared to what I'd encountered in England.
Then again, England is not just discriminatory, but also a third-rate cultural country.
And England, in turn, discriminates against Ireland, the United States, and within its own ranks divides between WASPs and people of color... The world is indeed a complex and bizarre place. It's no wonder PC movements in the West have become so extreme.
"Hanslow, what's wrong?"
"Nothing?"
"It's nothing."
I shook my head and patted the kids' heads.
While I don't agree with everything Lewis Carroll said, the innocence of children truly is the answer.
At least kids are honest about what they like.
"Then let's start by checking out the view from the Eiffel Tower, and then we can tour the Louvre."
"The Eiffel Tower? That tall thing?"
"Yes, exactly. Imagine how beautiful Paris will look from up high!"
I spoke with enthusiasm.
When I was in Korea, I once went up to the transparent floor of the Coldewalt Tower, and it was truly breathtaking.
Isn't that what high places make you think? "Look! How insignificant these trashy humans are!"
As I was speaking, Madge approached, grabbing my sleeve and asking with a trembling voice.
"... Can we not go?"
"Hmm. Are you scared?"
"Ah, no! It's not that! What if it collapses!!"
Oh dear, such worries. That's a building that will still be standing safely 135 years from now, young lady. Beyond that, I don't know.
Monty, the one who excels at provoking, stepped in to stir things up further.
"Hah, are you scared?"
"... You'll die."
"Can't handle a tall place like that."
"Master, please don't provoke her so much."
I sighed deeply and maneuvered the stroller between Monty and Madge. I know adolescence can be tough, but the more they grow up, the more they fight.
"Miss, don't worry."
"But..."
"That tower, despite how it looks, is very sturdy. Nothing will happen."
Moreover, I continued,
"The view from up there will be absolutely amazing. I guarantee it. It will be a memory you'll cherish for a lifetime."
"Hmmm. Thank you for saying that."
At that moment, the person who spoke wasn't Madge, Monty, or even Mary.
When I turned my head, a strangely dignified Frenchman with slicked-back hair was looking down at me.
"Um, who are you?"
"I'm someone who lives around here."
The man gestured toward the area around the Eiffel Tower.
Hmm. Maybe he's someone who operates a business on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower? At this time, it was common for people to stay at their shops.
"You seem to know something about art despite appearances. I see you want to take the children up the Eiffel Tower. Haha, what a mood. I'll get you up there."
"Is that alright?"
"Of course! It doesn't matter if you're English, American, or German. If you can appreciate the true value of this tower, then that's what counts. Though being French would be better."
Haha, well. At this time, the Eiffel Tower was infamous for being an eyesore. Perhaps this person had been influenced by the tower due to working underneath it.
He might feel wronged, being criticized for something unrelated to him.
I had no reason to refuse.
"Understood. Then please, I'll leave it to you."
"Great! Then afterwards, come to my place for a meal. Do you like escargot?"
Come to think of it, it was almost lunchtime.
Monty, excited by the idea, shouted with joy. I agreed, and Mary followed naturally, while Madge merely nodded with a sullen expression.
Thus, our family and the mysterious Frenchman entered the tower.
Strangely, he didn't ask for any payment. Considering it was notorious as an eyesore, maybe it was only right to let people in for free?
And once inside.
To my surprise, despite it being 1895, there was already an elevator installed.
It wasn't a transparent elevator, but it had windows, and the open iron framework of the Eiffel Tower allowed an unobstructed view of the outside.
And finally, we reached the top floor.
"Ha ha ha! I am the king of the world!!"
"Monty!! Stay there!!"
From the top of the Eiffel Tower, Paris looked like ants.
Monty was exuberantly running around, and I chuckled as I watched him.
Everyone seems to enjoy it. It's amazing.
By the way.
"Over here."
"Yes?"
"This is my home."
The Frenchman pointed to a space with a bathroom, kitchen, and two rooms set up on one side.
What? Living space in the Eiffel Tower? And we're actually inside? I thought, at that moment.
I had a sudden realization and asked.
"Excuse me, but may I ask your name?"
"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself."
Gustave. The Frenchman proudly said.
"Alexandre Gustave Eiffel. The designer of this tower and a pioneer persecuted by fools who don't understand the times."