Master of Metro

On Friday, the 28th of May, 2010, I embarked on a mission that would forever change the planet. I spent 5 hours and 32 minutes riding each of Paris’ metros…in Numerical order. I entered the underground labyrinth at 11:04AM. At 4:36 PM I emerged. I saw in front of me a new world – one in which I now held a unique place as one of Paris’ most ambitious idiots with nothing better to do. As my eyes readjusted to natural sunlight and my body to life above ground, I have come to terms with this new identity, reflecting on the 1 hour and 47 minutes spent in various metro stations, the 3 hours and 45 minutes aboard Paris’ 16 metro lines, and the 3 hours and 49 minutes spent without catching so much as a glimpse of the light of day. I saw things that were disturbing, amusing, awe-inspiring, and boring. I smelled things that made me want to vomit, left me feeling light-headed, things that were confusing, out of place, and many odd combinations of familiar smells. During this brief period of reflection, I have been musing over the way to most effectively communicate this experience to you, my loyal readers. After debating between chronologically relaying my experience or crafting a list of superlatives (i.e. most heinous smell – which, by the way, would go to Chatelet for its creative re-interpretation of the classic “stale urine”) I decided on a third option. I hope that this mode of classification – “The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of Paris’ 16 Metro Lines” – will effectively bring you aboard the metro, underground, to join with me in this life-altering experience. Without further ado,

The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of Paris’ 16 Metro Lines Part 1: A Framework for Understanding Idiocy

Before I delve into the underground world of rancid smells, overly affectionate couples, flashing lights, and strange announcements, I believe it would benefit the reader to have somewhat of a framework within which to place these various experiences. After four or five post-graduation days of sitting on my duff looking on the internet for jobs I grew weary of inactivity (though it was cold and rainy for several of the days, so I probably would have stayed inside anyway) and eager to do something that mattered. One night I realized that instead of sitting around all day looking at the same websites/search engines/classified postings that hadn’t changed in the last 5 days I would ride all 16 Metro lines of Paris in order. I pulled out my metro map and began to chart my course. The next day, I completed the following voyage:


(I recommend right-clicking on the above image and opening in a new window/tab)

Beginning at Bastille, I took the 1 Line to Nation where I boarded the 2 Line. Exiting the 2 line at Pere Lachaise I took the 3 line up one stop to Gambetta where I rode the 3bis line for it’s full cycle before returning to Gambetta and re-boarding the 3 line in the opposite direction. From there, I made the switch from the 3 line to the 4 line at Reamur Sebastol and the 4 to 5 at Gare de L’est. Then I rode back towards my home metro station, Place D’italie, and changed from the 5 to 6, turned around on the 6 at St. Jacques, rode it back to the D’it (as we locals call it) in order to get on the 7. That trip was the last time during the journey that I would see the sun. I took the 7 line for what seemed like an eternity before boarding the 7bis at Louis Blanc. This was the “make or break” portion of the trip where I struggled against every fiber of my being which was shouting “you are an idiot, this is a waste of time, go home, there haven’t even been any accordion players yet.” I rode the full circle of the 7bis and was faced with a brutal decision. I got back on the 7 line knowing full well I could ride it back to the D’it and pretend I never had this awful idea or embarked on this smelly, damp, dark expedition.

I did no such thing. Reinvigorated, rising to the challenge of pushing myself beyond my former threshold of metro tolerance, I boarded the 8 at Opera, the 9 at Richelieu-Drouot, and the 10 at Michel-Ange-Auteuil. If I thought that the first ten lines were difficult, the next few connections would be the types of tests that break or forge champions. The 10 does not directly connect to the 11, nor the 11 to the 12. This would take a leap of creative brilliance – a leap which, fortuitously, I am uniquely qualified to make. I disembarked the 10 line at Cluny La Sorbonne, walk underground to the RER B at St. Michel Notre Dame and take the RER B to Chatelet to connect with the 11. I would like to point out that this did not break the numerical chain of metro rides.

Point Tommy.

I rode the 11 Line for a few stops and turned back around at Rambuteau to walk back through the massive underground universe that is Chatelet. I then rode the RER A to Auber where I walked approximately one half to three quarters of a mile, beneath the earth’s surface and through the stations Havre Caumartin and Hausman St. Lazare, passing by metros 3 and 9 and the RER E in order to arrive at St. Lazare where I began the final leg of this arduous adventure. I rode the 12 from St. Lazare to Gare Montparnasse and the 13 from Gare Montparnasse back to St. Lazare. Dazed and groggy I awaited the 14 line to arrive at St. Lazare and when it did, I was in a state of disbelief. Stepping through the automatic sliding glass doors into the obscenely bright, blue and grey themed metro train, I had done it. Victory. At station Bercy, I switched over to the 6 line to the D’it. That ride was a blur. Shortly thereafter, I was back above ground, a changed man.

I hope that this somewhat lengthy, less-than-hilarious summary of the days’ events and the course of my travels will aid in all of your enjoyment of the remaining portions of this tale. This is the story of an event which I will, in all likelihood, never attempt again, but it was something I felt must be attempted. At various points and during various activities in the days since, my loving wife has looked at me and said “I can’t believe you rode all 14 metro lines…you are an idiot.”

I can’t say that I entirely disagree.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for Part 2: Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory of the Metro de Paris