I Met Two Street Artists Who Offered to Take Me Into the Free Catacombs

Sadly I won’t fit through the entrance

I’m not sure if I would have accepted, but what an adventure that would be! I’m booked to go on the (legal) tour of the catacombs tomorrow with dozens of other tourists but how much better would it have been to see them with my two intrepid Parisians? How many of you have been brave enough?

I’m in Paris for 4 days with a bucket list of 4 adventures — one per day. I met Harish from India at breakfast this morning who had long lists of places he wanted to see in 5 days — most of which I haven’t seen! Each to their own.

It doesn’t take long for my brain to slip into French when there’s French all around me. I found myself wanting to write this story in French!

First on my list was La Petite Ceinture (The Little Belt). Four years ago when I was teaching French to beginners, I discovered a site called Le Secret Paris (it no longer exists) where I found La Petite Ceinture and was fascinated by its history so I set out today to find it. I had researched it and found it mentioned in Parc Montsouris. Google Maps said, “walk to bus stop, catch bus 62, go 5 stops, then walk to park.” I missed the first bus (stop). I’d walked so far past I thought I might as well keep going. When almost at the park, I sat down to have a rest, looked again at my maps and it was telling me to go back the way I had come! I had actually walked right over it!

If I hadn’t been so determined to find it, I would have given up! I kept walking keeping an eye on my phone the whole time. I walked past a beautiful garden and stopped to take some photos. Some vague memory of a community garden along la petite ceinture came to me so I looked over past the garden and there seemed to be a depression — either a creek, canal, or LA PETITE CEINTURE! Now I just had to find how to get down into it. I followed the garden and the followed along the greenery until I came to Rue Didot — just one street over from Rue des Plantes — my street — and I laughed and cried at the same time. I had found the entrée! (entrance)

Excitedly, I descended the metal staircase and started walking along the old railway track. “La Petite Ceinture consists of 32 kilometres of circular track built between 1852–1870. The section between Rue Didot and L’Avenue de Général Leclerc was closed to passenger service in 1934.” This was the section I walked today. I was alone. It was so peaceful — an oasis in a busy city. I could hear nothing of the traffic up above, and enjoyed being immersed in nature. I was half expecting to see squirrels — it’s so wild.

“After 1934, the vegetation grew little by little over the tracks creating a conducive environment for fauna and flora to prosper. It is up to all of us to preserve this railway and the nature around it as a green space which keeps its original wasteland character while integrating into the urban fabric.” (This is a rough translation of the sign I read before entering La Petite Ceinture.)

When I reached what would have been a station, I sat down on the elevated platform to enjoy the artwork. Two young men came down the stairs and walked towards me. I greeted them with my usual “bonjour” and then remarked on the street art, “C’est magnifique!”

We chatted for the best part of an hour, maybe longer. They were fascinating — real Parisians — street artists (graffeurs) but they said they were not very good. That’s OK, I said I’m a a writer but also not very good. A bond was formed.

They were surprised to find an old woman down here under the bridge and when they mentioned the Catacombs, I said I was going on a tour tomorrow which was expensif! I think that’s one of my made-up French words. That’s when they offered me a visite gratuite ce soir — a free tour tonight. Basile showed me a map of the entire catacombs. It covered most of Paris! The tourist section is a small fraction of the total! No wonder people get lost and die in there! Am I that brave? Ultimately, the decision wasn’t up to me. Basile said the entrance is very tight and combined with my knees, it might not be a good idea.

My daughters would have a hissy fit if they knew I had even considered it.

We continued to chat. I learned the story of Parsek, a street artist, whose life is commemorated here. From the story, I gathered he was one of the illegal entrants of the catacombs and died there but I may be wrong. My French listening skills need improvement. Basile and François posed for a photo in front of Parsek’s picture.

Basile told me this was the only area in Paris where street art was legal. That is probably why they weren’t shy about telling me they were graffeurs.

When I asked if I could use their names and photos in a story, they wanted to know my name. It comes up first as a writer on Medium. They were impressed. Maybe they will read this story.

Eventually we parted ways. Talk about meeting the locals!

I read nothing about its use during World War II to transport troops and ammunition around Paris without the knowledge of the Nazis who occupied Paris. Maybe it’s an urban legend. But while researching, I found this…

It has a list of the ten entry points to La Petite Ceinture.

And here’s a fantastic map!

Have any other Globetrotters discovered this “hidden gem” in the heart of Paris? Please let me know in the comments.

Have you visited any of the out-of-bounds sections of the Catacombs?

Please forgive the random sizes of the photos. The photo transfer took me longer than writing the story. A few worked well: the others I had to do singly via screenshots or email.