A Truly Haunted Place: The Parisian Catacombs

A ghost in the Catacombs!

On our second full day in Paris I decided to see one of the truly most haunted sites of any city in the world, the catacombs. The catacombs are underground caverns filled to every last, painfully organized corner, with human bones. The history behind the catacombs is that from the middle ages to the late 18th century, poor Parisians were buried in huge mass cemeteries near centrally located churches; these graveyards became known as "Saints Innocence." The thousands of decaying bodies, as well as the large amounts of lime used to accelerate the decaying process, resulted in contaminated water for nearby neighborhoods that used wells as their main source of water. In 1780 the mass cemeteries of Paris were closed due to overuse. The government began searching for a solution regarding the millions of decaying bones and the new bodies that desperately needed a place to go. They turned to the underground limestone tunnels that twist and curve for miles below the city of Paris. They had been hollowed out hundreds of years prior in order to carve out the building stones of the city we know and love today. That same year the government began restoring them for their new use, a second burial ground for the long dead.

Memorial inside the
Catacombs

Today hundreds of tourists pour through the underground tunnels each day, paying their respects to the 6 million deceased Parisians and getting chills down their spines as they walk mile after mile just inches away from perfectly stacked and organized bones; hollow eyed skulls included. I decided to join the masses and see what all the fuss was about.

After waiting in line for literally 2 and a half hours, I finally made it into the ticket office. Here I was treated the most rudely of any interaction I had experienced up until this point. The woman demanded my money, slammed it into her register, then literally threw my ticket at me while demanding that I move along. I decided not to hold it against her, if I lingered around all day near millions of dead bones I'd be pretty grumpy as well.

Scared inside the Catacombs

The journey begins with an ascent down nearly 300 narrow and damp spiral stone steps. After walking for nearly a quarter of a mile through dark and dreary tunnels lit occasionally by dim bulbs, you abruptly come across the first bones. For the rest of the journey the narrow hallways you walk down are literally crammed from floor to ceiling on both sides with perfectly organized, lovingly stacked bones. The Parisian government wanted the catacombs to serve as a worthy and respectful final resting place for the millions of bodies relocated, so they inserted engravings and pillars in with the morbid ornaments. The mood is quiet and respectful down in the catacombs, and people whisper as water slowly drips from the ceiling. Reading the ancient inscriptions gives the bravest onlooker the chills as it slowly dawns on you that these bones are real, and millions of souls call these grounds home. The tunnels twist and turn for what seems like miles until finally, after nearly an hour and half, you emerge from the damp tunnels... squinting from the bright sunlight and strangely awed over the fact that things are so quickly back to normal.

Circular formation of bones

After the catacombs I wandered into a nearby souvenir shop with a few friends. After tinkering around with a few bone shaped key chains and photo shopped postcards we caught sight of something that really caught our interest... Absinthe.  Absinthe is a highly potent alcoholic beverage made from wormwood that allegedly causes the drinker to hallucinate. It is rumored that it was while drunk on Absinthe that Van Gogh cut off his ear. The cashier caught us giggling over the bottle and offered us a taste...yes please! He explained that in order to make the perfect absinthe drink you pour one shot over 4 sugar cubes and then for each part absinthe add 5 parts water, red bull, what have you. The absinthe tasted like licorice and we decided to invest in a bottle.

Shakespeare and Company

At this time we realized we were late for meeting Amanda at the Shakespeare and Company bookstore on the left bank. The funky bookstore was a meeting place for writers such as James Joyce, Scott Fitzgerald and Hemingway (he mentioned the bookstore in A Moveable Feast) during the 1920s and it's easy to see why. It's cluttered shelves are crammed with books that I couldn't believe I'd never heard of and wooden ladders made it possible to reach the highest shelves. Love notes and bitter musings are pinned to every corner of wall space with yellowed tape. On the second floor a young man played the piano while a beautiful french girl talked poetically along with the tune. The Seine is visible out the front door and Notre Dame Cathedral is a few short blocks away. The nerd in me was gasping with pure bliss, "I've found the bookstore of my dreams!"

Inside Shakespeare and Co.

After leaving Shakespeare and Company, Justine and I decided it was time to see the inside of Notre Dame and joined the long entry line. The inside was beautiful with the most impressive parts being the massive arched ceiling and the HUGE,  matching purple stained glass windows on either side of the church. The doorways leading into the church are amazingly elaborate with hundreds of faces carved one right after the next, each one different and containing a subtle message.

After exploring the church, our feet were exhausted and Justine decided to head home. I had one more task at hand, however, and headed back to the river to scour the temporary flea market that had popped up over night. I had only one purchase in mind, a lock and key. Paris is home to one of the few love lock bridges in the world, a bridge that is covered with padlocks containing the name of two people with undying love for each other. After the lock is attached to the bridge, the keys are thrown into the Seine to symbolize that their love will never be broken.

Notre Dame

I found a gold padlock and scribbled "Hannah Kincaid and Chris Bodamer" on the lock. I hunted out the perfect spot on the bridge with a great view up the Seine that I felt I would be able to find again, and I let our keys fly. As the keys hit the water I realized with a start that there was one other boy that I have unbreakable love for and I hurried back to the lock salesman, knowing that he was trying to close up shop. This time I wrote "Hannah and Thomas Kincaid" on the small gold lock and attached it to the same loop as Chris and I's. As the keys dropped like a stone into the cold, grey water his ashes floated lazily behind.

My Love Locks for Chris and Thomas

At this point I went back to my hotel to rest and clean up for the evening. Alexa and I decided to consult my Lonely Planet travel guide for a few fun bars and settled on a few near the Pantheon. It mentioned that the bars were underground but we were surprised at just how underground, we were some of the only people inside both places we checked out. We enjoyed a few drinks and made it back to our hotel by 12:30

My overall opinion about Paris is that I need to go back again...but I need to go back when it's not tourist season and after I have learned some basic French. There were so many tourists at this time of the year that simply walking down the street was a struggle. The lines were ridiculous and the waitstaff at every restaurant was fed up. Paris in ...say...October, after a few years of French and with a solid week to soak it all up would be an entirely different experience than the rushed and crowded 3 days I spent running from one huge museum to the next. I did not get a chance to go to either the Salvador Dali or Monet museums, so I will have to remember them both for next time. At the end of the day I loved seeing the city, but I'm equally excited to experience the other half of France, the warm waters and fresh air of the French Riviera.