Paris Revealed

by Stephen Clarke

  It is said that the insects migrated to Paris from the south of France, and originally took refuge in winter in boulangeries, where they would eat the wood used in the bread ovens. Then, in a piece of convenient serendipity, just when wood ovens were being converted to gas and electricity, the métro was built, and the crickets all hopped into the tunnels. Here they fed on discarded food, paper and cigarette butts, and managed to establish colonies on the three above-mentioned lines, said to be the warmest because they have no overground stations.

  That, at least, is the gospel according to the LPGMP, or Ligue pour la Protection des Grillons dans le Métro Parisien. This cricket-protection league, founded in 1992, is campaigning for the creation of a subterranean auditorium in an unused métro station, where crickets would be able to breed and sing in peace. The league’s 100 or so members also say that there are two vital conditions for the survival of the métro’s cricket population. First, there should be an official limit on the length of transport strikes, because the stations cool down if there are no trains running through them (a colony in Maraîchers station is said to have died out during the long strike of 1995). And secondly, the ban on smoking in métro stations should be lifted, because cigarette butts are an essential part of the Parisian cricket’s diet.

  So next time you see a passenger defying the no-smoking rule on a métro platform, and then flicking their cigarette butt down on to the rails, rest assured—it’s probably just an animal activist trying to protect endangered insects.

  Where am I going?

  France is a pretty rational country, so it is appropriate that Paris’s métro lines should be known by their numbers. The first six lines all do very basic, strategic things, linking up key points in the city. Line 1 runs east to west along the Seine; Lines 2 and 6 loop north and south respectively around the city limits; Line 3 heads out from Saint-Lazare mainline station to Opéra and République; Line 4 is a direct north-to-south route linking up the Gares du Nord, de l’Est and Montparnasse; and Line 5 connects the Gare d’Austerlitz to the Gare de l’Est. Subsequent lines seem to fill in the gaps.

  Given this rational background to the métro map, it is strange that the line numbers are so unhelpful when you’re trying to find your way around the city. The problem is that Parisians don’t always use them when describing the best route from one station to another. Or if they do tell you which number line to take, it can get swallowed up in a mass of information. So if you ask for directions, it is essential to listen carefully not just for numbers but also for terminus names. A typical reply to ‘How do I get to the Champs-Élysées?’ might be ‘Prenez la huit direction Balard, puis changez à Concorde et prenez la une direction La Défense et descendez à Franklin Roosevelt.’ Rest assured, this is exactly what you want to know despite the fact that you have no desire whatsoever to go to Balard, Concorde or La Défense, and might not know why they’re talking about an ex-President of the USA.

  What the reply means is this: from here, take the Line 8 south towards its terminus, Balard, then change at Concorde station and look out for signs directing you towards Line l’s western terminus, La Défense. Take Line 1, and get off at the station called Franklin D. Roosevelt, which is on the Champs-Élysées.

  How to find your way (or not) in the métro. What if you don’t want to go to Place d’ltalie or Bobigny? Travelling on the métro requires an intimate knowledge of both the line numbers and their (ever-changing) termini.

  It is a system with its own logic, the only problem being that Paris is a dynamic city and is continually extending its métro lines. If your map is out of date, or the person giving you the instructions hasn’t realized that the line has been extended, the terminus might not be a terminus any more, and you could spend hours searching for a non-existent direction. It would surely be easier to say northbound, westbound, etc., as they do in London, but one thing I’ve learnt from living in France is that you must never tell the French that another country (especially une nation anglo-saxonne) does something better—you just have to adapt to the Parisian system.

  Getting in line

  Below is a run-through of the foibles and characteristics of Paris’s sixteen métro lines. They vary a lot in character because of the different types of carriages they use, the routes they take and the people that use them, and all have a few memorable stations that are worth a visit.

  Lines are identified by their numbers (1–14, with a 3bis and a 7bis tacked on) and current termini.

  Ligne 1: Château de Vincennes–La Défense

  A long, direct line that skirts along the north bank of the Seine and up the Champs-Élysées, it carries well-dressed commuters out to the office district of La Defénse and tourists from Bastille to the Louvre. The oldest line, it was also one of the first to be upgraded, with fast-moving trains that aren’t divided up into carriages. Trains are breezy, smooth and seem to sing as they speed into the tunnels. They also have automatic doors so you don’t have to battle unlocking them.

  FUN STATIONS

  Bastille—its walls are decorated with cartoon-like tile frescoes depicting key events from the French Revolution. And just for a few yards, the line goes overground, with a great view along the canal basin towards the Seine.

  Palais-Royal, because the entrance outside the Comédie Française theatre is unique—it looks like a crown made out of silver and multi-coloured precious stones, and was created in 2000 by the artist Jean-Michel Othoniel.

  Ligne 2: Nation–Porte Dauphine

  It sweeps around the north of the city, taking in some heavily ethnic areas—Chinese in Belleville, Sri Lankan at La Chapelle, African at Barbès, and white Catholic lawyers at Villiers. Heading east to west, there’s a good overground section from Colonel Fabien to Anvers with views into some of the poorest apartments in Paris, then the line dips underground again, as though the city wanted to protect innocent travellers from the naughtiness above in Pigalle.

  FUN STATIONS

  Porte Dauphine, for its wonderful Guimard entrance, like a garden pavilion, and its period interior décor. In 1900, the station was used to try out a cream tile colour scheme that was later rejected in favour of the omnipresent white.

  Barbès, an ironwork overground station overlooking the craziness of the cheap pink-and-white department store Tati.

  Ligne 3: Gallieni–Pont de Levallois-Bécon

  This line gets packed with the masses of commuters whose working day begins and ends with being squashed on to a suburban train at Saint-Lazare. The older Line 3 trains have been refitted and now feature bizarre holding-on poles in the aisles. Instead of a single pole from floor to ceiling, there is a sort of cactus structure that splits into three from waist height, giving triple holding-on space. On the ceiling, in the middle of this trio of poles, is a blue light that shines down the metal, making the whole thing look like some kind of teleporter. Touch the pole and you will be beamed instantly to Saint-Lazare, which, during rush hour, would be a welcome thing.

  FUN STATIONS

  Temple, because it is almost pointless. It emerges about 20 metres from République (where Line 3 also stops) and seems to serve only to take people to the door of the local Monoprix supermarket.

  Réaumur-Sébastopol—not only does the station commemorate one of the few battles jointly won by the Brits and the French (the 1854–5 siege of Sébastopol in the Crimea), but also both Line 3 platforms are decorated with a collage of old newspaper articles, a reminder of the fact that this quartier was once Paris’s Fleet Street. The front pages give a patchy version of recent French history—a 1912 boxing match, the 1936 Tour de France, a one-legged man taking up skiing, and the outbreak of the Second World War, followed rather quickly by ‘Victoire!’ in 1945. No mention of the Occupation except for the announcement of the 1944 uprising, which includes the outrageous French propaganda of the time: ‘Paris has liberated itself … without support from Allied troops’ (D-Day and the subsequent rout of Nazi forces in northwest France clearly didn’t count as ‘supp
ort’).

  Parmentier—the green trelliswork on the platform walls may make the station look like a garden in which the clematis have all died, but in fact the cross-hatching is meant to represent the threads of a potato net (potatoes are sold in net bags in supermarkets). This is a rather obscure homage to Antoine-Augustin Parmentier, whom the French claim as a pioneer in potato cultivation—which is why they call shepherd’s pie hachis parmentier. In fact, Parmentier was the scientist who proved to sceptical Parisians in the 1770s that the potato wasn’t poisonous, as was commonly believed. To win favour for his pet vegetable, he gave a plant to King Louis XVI, who wore the flower in his buttonhole. Fortunately, other Parisians understood that the tubers were meant to be eaten, and the potato has been a staple food in the city ever since.

  Ligne 4: Porte de Clignancourt–Porte d’Orléans

  The underground river crossing at Châtelet was one of Fulgence Bienvenüe’s greatest technological triumphs, but these days the stations at Cité and Saint-Michel feel (and smell) as though you’re in the very bowels of the earth. It’s a highly useful dash from north to south, which means that its ageing trains are almost always jam-packed between the Gare du Nord and Montparnasse. The line also passes through some dodgy neighbourhoods, especially around the Strasbourg–Saint-Denis station, with its low-cost Chinese prostitutes.

  FUN STATIONS

  Saint-Germain des Prés, which hosts regular literary events, and has texts projected on to its curved walls and ceiling. This is why it’s the only métro station without advertising billboards on the platforms.

  Montparnasse-Bienvenüe—the station named after the métro’s creator is actually less fun than it used to be. In 2002, the long corridor leading to Lines 6 and 13 was fitted with the fastest-moving walkway in the world—12 kilometres per hour. But there were so many accidents and panic attacks that it was taken out of service. As if to compensate, the corridor has now been decorated with literary quotations about the métro.

  Ligne 5: Bobigny–Pablo Picasso–Place d’ltalie

  A good line for barflies (who will find all they need at Bastille, Oberkampf, and the Canal Saint-Martin near Jacques Bonsergent) and concert-goers (the Bataclan is at Oberkampf and the Zénith and Cité de la Musique at Porte de Pantin). At the Gare du Nord, heading north, there is a wonderful example of Paris’s attempts at crowd control. The platform is painted with yellow arrows telling passengers where to stand to let people get on and off the trains. However, the arrows were all repainted after an apparent change of opinion, and if you try to follow them, you will end up doing a tango and falling under the train.

  FUN STATIONS

  Bastille—on the northbound platform (direction Bobigny–Pablo Picasso), you can see some of the foundations of the infamous prison that used to stand on this spot, the storming of which was one of the key moments of the French Révolution. Although, as you look at the historical stones, you might like to consider that the prison wasn’t the notorious detention centre for political prisoners that it is made out to be. When it was liberated in 1789, it held only seven inmates—four forgers, two lunatics and a count who was accused of helping his sister run away from her husband. Not exactly revolutionaries.****

  Quai de la Rapée, which is in the middle of nowhere, but just after leaving it, heading south, the train winds spookily around Paris’s morgue and then performs an excellent overground river crossing, with a spectacular view towards Notre-Dame.

  Ligne 6: Nation–Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

  The mirror image of Line 2, it loops around the south, which is a much richer part of town. There are long overground stretches along the wide boulevards either side of Montparnasse, one of which allows you to see the 15th arrondissement without actually having to get off and be bored by it (though, to be fair, the area around La Motte-Picquet-Grenelle station is actually an oasis of liveliness). Line 6 also boasts two river bridges, one near the ‘sewing machine’ (as the hideous Ministry of Finance is locally known) and the other, the best hundred metres or so of the whole Paris métro, right next to the Eiffel Tower. When the Tower is flickering (on the hour, every hour from sunset till 1 a.m., or 2 a.m. in summer), it’s a good idea to get off at Passy or Bir-Hakeim—the stations on either riverbank—and go back again for a second look.

  FUN STATIONS

  Passy and Bir-Hakeim, for the above reasons.

  Saint-Jacques—it has a beautiful 1906 Art Nouveau brick and iron entrance, and its platform walls are covered in pierre meulière, the craggy, porous stone used to build Parisian houses in the nineteenth century.

  Montparnasse-Bienvenüe (see Ligne 4 above).

  Ligne 7: La Courneuve–8 Mai 1945–Mairie d’lvry / Villejuif–Louis Aragon

  Another line in need of refurbishment. Although its trains look relatively new and metallic, they groan and clank on metal wheels. Is it too cynical to say that the refit is considered less urgent because the northernmost section, from Gare de l’Est to La Courneuve, carries some of the city’s poorest commuters? The line takes a very circuitous route, meandering its way across town like the Seine, looping along past the Pont Neuf and the Louvre, up to Opéra and through the most anonymous parts of the 9th arrondissement.

  FUN STATIONS

  Chaussée d’Antin–Lafayette—apart from the fact that it’s the shopaholics’ drop-off point (the Galeries Lafayette are just above), the ceiling of the Line 7 platform is covered in an immense Sistine Chapel-like fresco celebrating the American Revolution (or at least France’s role in it). The Marquis de Lafayette, who joined Washington’s army, ogles Liberty, represented of course by a beautiful woman. The fresco was designed in 1989 by French painter Jean-Paul Chambas.

  Pont Neuf, which has decorations on both its ceiling and walls. The station is on the opposite riverbank to the Monnaie de Paris, the Mint, and features a large metal coin press, in front of a tile fresco of the press in use, as well as some gigantic 3D enamel reproductions of old coins that emerge from one of the advertising billboards and cross the ceiling to the other side of the platform, like bubbles in a miser’s nightmare. There are also some glass cases containing small, life-size coins, which are probably replicas because no one has bothered to steal them. Another fun aspect of the station is that if you get off the métro here, you emerge right on the banks of the Seine, a pretty rare occurrence.

  Ligne 8: Balard–Créteil Préfecture

  A strange line that feels like a back-up for much of its length. On the long stretch between République and Richelieu-Drouot, it shares three stops with Line 9, and then shadows Line 12 at Madeleine and Concorde. At either end the line disappears into the dark depths of the 12th and the 15th arrondissements. This is because it was cobbled together out of other projects—originally it linked Opéra to Porte d’Auteuil in the far west, much of which has now been hijacked by Line 10.

  FUN STATIONS

  Opéra, simply because of its absurd exits. You hit street level in the middle of traffic islands in front of the opera house. Great views, but it can take ages to get off the traffic islands and on to the boulevard that you’re looking for, and even longer to reach the opera house itself.

  Bonne Nouvelle—if you try to read the name of the station written on the platform walls, you might think that the sign-writer was suffering from absinthe poisoning. However, the uneven lettering is deliberate, and is meant to evoke the Hollywood sign overlooking Los Angeles. (In fact, it was the person who had the idea who was suffering from absinthe poisoning.)

  Ligne 9: Pont de Sèvres–Mairie de Montreuil

  Another of the crowded lines, it ploughs through the office districts in the west and centre of the city into prime tourist territory (from Trocadéro to Alma-Marceau, the site of Princess Diana’s memorial flame,***** and on to the Champs-Élysées) and along the popular shopping route of the Grands Boulevards. It also goes out to the Parc des Princes (at Porte de Saint-Cloud), the home of Paris’s football team, Paris Saint-Germain, whose fans are so violent that different f
actions kill each other rather than attacking the opposition. On home-match days, the western end of the line is jammed with blue-and-red scarves and distrustful expressions. The old trains have been done out with new paisley seats that seem unnecessarily hard—not that you’ll get much chance to sit on one.

  FUN STATIONS

  Bonne Nouvelle, for its lettering (see Ligne 8 above).

  Franklin D. Roosevelt—its Line 9 platforms are like a rundown museum of 1950s design. Its aluminium walls and glass advertising display cases were, half a century ago, the height of avant-garde. These days, the dusty relics are boarded up and ignored by the crowds of commuters. Above ground, things are still trendy—the station’s Line 9 exit takes you to Avenue Montaigne, which is lined with haute couture stores.

  Porte de Montreuil—at the opposite end of Paris’s social scale, this station is one of the access points for the massive flea market on a Sunday.

  Ligne 10: Boulogne–Pont de Saint-Cloud–Gare d’Austerlitz

  A posh people’s line that goes through the Latin Quarter and out into the wilds of the 16th arrondissement, where it is used only by nannies, old ladies and rich schoolkids who haven’t yet been given a Vespa. Like Line 9, it also ferries PSG football fans, so is to be avoided on home-match days. The line has one peculiarity—it splits into two after crossing the Seine, and has six one-way stations, three in either direction. It is a bit like a roller coaster—you can look across and see a platform on a lower level, but you can’t get to it because it’s a different station.

  FUN STATIONS