Paris, rain and compliments

Although England's weather is the butt of many a foreign joke - along with our food, teeth and football team - what few realise or care to acknowledge is the fact that there is, in fact, less annual rainfall in London than there is in Paris. No wonder this is the capital of romance: as it pours outside for the 38th day on the trot what else is there to do other than try your luck with the ladies, trawling from cafe to cafe with a gauloises cigarette clinging desperately on to your lower lip, shrugging this way and grunting that.

And so it was with little surprise that, when I woke up on Friday morning, having arrived late on Thursday night, I opened the curtain to a rain splattered window, framing a grey sky. But being one of a group of 8 englishmen, we wrapped up warm and headed outside to be greeted by the mad dogs. We set off from the seizieme arrondissement and soon arrived near our destination of the Eiffel Tower - one of our number had never visited it before(?). A short stroll along the river from the metro station and there we were, staring up at this giant A-Frame.

Since the rest of us had been up to the top before, when the world was a better place and the price of a lift to the top was considerably less, there was no way that we were going to repeat the experience, even with an Eiffel virgin present. There was, therefore, a lot of foot shuffling and light social interaction as we all looked up at the top thinking (almost all of us) why are we here AGAIN?

Then it hit me. I have some of the most cynical friends on God's earth. Few, if any of them, have ever supported the idea of an audio city guide, smiling with a glazed condescension as I attempt to sell them the concept in time for their next visit to Amsterdam. But here we were, cynical or not, looking up at the Eiffel Tower feeling nothing but resentment, resentment that we were seeing something for the 3rd or 4th time and that we would leave this time with nothing.

But it did not have to be this way. We could leave with something: knowledge, understanding and appreciation as well as a random fact or two. Recently we (at StrollOn) have been developing our "Hotspots". The thinking behind them is that you download them (between 10 and 15 per city) onto your ipod before you head for a city and then listen to the content as and when you encounter each individual sight and attraction - we do not set you a prescribed route or walk. So I brought out my ipod, extricated myself from the group and started to listen to the track about the Eiffel Tower.

Within a minute or so I was sharing an ear piece with the virgin. Five minutes later and my ipod was in the hands of two new listeners. This was just the beginning. We passed a few more of the sights and, as people became familiar with the routine, they would shout out the name and we would see whether it was covered. If it was, 15 minutes later, after everyone had had a listen, we would move on, out of the rain. Now, bearing in mind that honesty is the best policy, I must confess that I was pushing the product. A lot. And all day. As a went to bed that night I wondered whether this was a one off. Tomorrow it would be forgotten about unless I pushed it equally if not more forcibly...

On Sunday we headed off to Notre Dame, not for mass I must confess (but not in confession) but to climb to the top. The queue for the climb was long so we decided to have a snoop around inside, to see whether this had anything on Canterbury, Yorkminster or Durham (and no is the answer). After 10 minutes upsetting the apple cart as I shuffled around the apse contra-flow I headed outside. To perhaps the most life affirming moment of recent months: a dour yorkshireman sitting in the middle of the square looking up at the two towers and taking in the building's many sculptures and wall reliefs, ipod in hand, ear plugs in ears. Rumbled, he defended himself saying, "this is the best idea ever".

The Hotspot had caught on...

StrollOn.