The Champs-Élysées began as a line drawn on open ground — a straight sightline the royal gardener André Le Nôtre pushed out from the Tuileries in the 1660s, across fields and marsh. Its name borrows the Elysian Fields of Greek myth, the resting place of heroes, yet for a century it stayed half-rural, a promenade of elm rows where Parisians took carriage rides. Only in the 1800s did mansions, cafés and gaslight turn it into the city's grand parade ground. Later planners kept extending that first straight line, and it is now the axis Paris calls the Axe historique, running from the Louvre out to the modern arch at La Défense.
Today you walk it uphill. The lower half is still a park — plane and chestnut trees, fountains, a tucked-away theatre — before the shops, car showrooms and cinema crowds of the upper stretch take hold. Ahead, the Arc de Triomphe grows steadily larger as you climb. The avenue still gives itself over to the country's set-piece days: the July parade, the Tour de France finish, the strings of winter light in the bare trees. A long-debated plan now aims to green it again, trading traffic lanes for gardens.