PARIS — As press boxes go, the one looking down on the beach volleyball venue at the Paris Olympics has some serious limitations. For starters, it is very crowded. There no tables, chairs or outlets to plug in a laptop. And the media buffet is (le gasp) 189 euros!

The view isn’t great, either, although I guess I should clarify that point. This spot provides a unrivaled panoramic vista of one of the world’s greatest cities that people travel from around the globe to see. But I’m here to cover an Olympic event, and from 906 feet in the Paris sky, it’s difficult to tell if I’m watching volleyball or an ant farm.

And all these tourists elbowing past me to take pictures?

“UH, HELLO? WORKING!”

If you’ve spent even two minutes watching the Olympics this week, you’ve seen the Eiffel Tower. It cast a brilliant light show at the Opening Ceremony. It greeted cyclists as they crossed the finish line. Mostly, though, it is right freakin’ there during beach volleyball games, a distracting presence at a venue that bears its name.

That temporary arena is, quite simply, the most spectacular venue for this quadrennial event since spectators gathered on the slopes of Mount Cronion in Olympia back in 776 BC. The competitors here try to ignore Gustave Eiffel’s signature creation. The action, after all, is on the sand in front of them, and they’re accustomed to having their courts set up on some of the world’s finest beaches.

But, c’mon. They’re only human. They steal a glance.

American Andy Benesh tries to focus on a point in the distance to clear his mind before his matches with teammate Miles Partain. “I was just staring at the Eiffel Tower,” he said with a laugh after a match last week. Taliqua Clancy of Australia caught herself looking at it during warm ups when, to her surprise, she saw people looking back at her.

“I was like, ‘Oh, that’s pretty cool. I wonder what they’re seeing right now,’” Clancy said. “I guess that’s one way to get a free ticket.”

Free isn’t exactly accurate, although they were watching at a significant discount. The cheapest seats in the venue went for 90 euros, but given the popularity of the event, they sold out quickly. A ticket to the top of the Eiffel Tower — which also was in high demand this summer thanks to all of the Olympic visitors — costs a more modest 35 euros.

Getting there should be an event itself. The park around the tower is like an elongated Times Square without the Elmos, a tourist-crammed hellscape that real Parisians avoid at all costs. But, for us out of towners, it still inspires awe — all 7,300 tons of iron and 2.5 million rivets — which means thousands of selfies.

I decided to see what everyone was watching from the top by “covering” a match between France and Japan from that vantage point this weekend. I missed the first few points after it took 45 minutes to navigate two elevator rides, a huge sportswriting no-no. But based on the enthusiastic cheers from the home crowd below, it seemed obvious that France was dominating.

“Actually, Japan is winning,” Lakhvir Singh, an Olympic fan from India, told me.

Wait a minute. I couldn’t make out the score on the scoreboard. Come to think of it, I could even see the scoreboard. How could Singh know this? Was he counting the points? Then he showed me the score on his phone. That’s cheating!

Turns out, the French fans will cheer for just about anything. Beach volleyball games are like mini rock concerts, with hype men and (mostly American) music that plays constantly. It is the one place at the Olympics where you can participate in a bilingual sing-along to Sweet Caroline, and also, maybe the one sporting venue on earth where a Sweet Caroline sing-along doesn’t suck.

And from 906 feet above? The spectators watching the action are participating, too. We in the sports media typically abide by a strict no-cheering-in-the-press-box policy, but from up here, it was hard not to appreciate the shared spirit.

“ALLEZ LES BLUES!” they chanted from down below.

“ALLEZ LES BLUES!” we responded from way above.

I was here to work, though, and that remained an unprecedented challenge. I didn’t bring the two Euro coins needed to unlock the telescope. I could see the players when they served the ball, a motion that is clear even from this distance. But the location of the ball was a mystery. Even Bob Uecker would have to admit that this was not the front row.

“They got a point!” a teenager named Levy Mumme from Florida yelled.

“Wait. Who got a point?!” I asked him, hoping his younger eyes were stronger.

“Somebody,” he replied, unhelpfully.

Ah, well. It hard to concentrate on any one thing up here, not with the Seine River snaking below us in one direction, the Arc de Triomphe standing proudly behind it, and even the Ferris Wheel from Disneyland Paris off in the distance. Each view offered something unique, something special.

Pushkar Chhajed, a fellow out-of-towner from Austin, Texas, pointed out at the Olympic Torch in the distance. Soon, it would be fully illuminated again. Soon, the entire tower would begin flashing, too. The City of Lights was coming to life.

“It’s epic,” Chhajed said.

The France-Japan beach volleyball game, however, was ending. I get back to the other side of the observation deck just in time to see the players leave the court below and other figures — Dancers? Groundskeepers? Sand People from Star Wars?— take their place. The crowd down there is unusually quiet, which felt like a bad sign for the home team.

“I think Japan won,” I overheard one tourist tell another, and from my perch in the Eiffel Tour press box, I’m just going to have to take their word for it.

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Steve Politi may be reached at spoliti@njadvancemedia.com.