The official line is simple: your bag must be smaller than 40 x 40 x 20 cm. That’s roughly the size of a very smug cat curled up for a nap. If your bag is bigger, you’ll be turned away faster than a tourist trying to order a “caw-fay” without the accent.
I once saw a man try to bring a full backpacker’s pack—the kind you use to hike the Andes. He looked like a turtle wearing a house. The security guard just shook his head and pointed to a locker the size of a shoebox. The man’s soul visibly left his body.
What Actually Gets Through the Gates?
Think of your bag like you’re going to a beach, but the beach is a metal detector. A crossbody purse? Perfect. A small backpack with just a water bottle and your wallet? You’re a hero. That oversized tote you use for groceries and the entire contents of your desk? Nope. You’ll be stuck in a “bag reasoning” line, trying to negotiate with a security guard who has heard every excuse twice.
My own moment of truth came when I tried to bring a paper shopping bag from a souvenir shop. It was literally empty. No dice. The guard looked at me like I’d tried to smuggle in a pony. I had to fold it up and shove it in my pocket, looking like a contortionist magician.
The Eiffel Tower brand
