The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of Paris’ 16 Metro Lines Part 2

Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory of the Metro de Paris

“Is that a buttocks on the horizon?” I pondered, making my way through la station Remur Sebastol shortly after noon. Upon further inspection, it was, indeed, a man’s buttocks. This man had lowered his pantalon to his knees, was lifting his shirt up to his shoulders and doing his part to make sure that this station’s pee gutters were being utilized to their fullest capacity. The walls of most metros are lined with these small trenches that are likely intended to rid the station of excess rain water or cleaning solvents on the rare occasion that the metro is hosed down. They are more often utilized in the manner described above. They are also sometimes used for the purposes of regurgitation as was the case about an hour later in la station Place D’italie. Fortunately this concludes the bodily excretions segment of the sights mine eyes have seen during that fateful day on the metro.

The day began about an hour before my encounter with pee man as I was gazing out the window of the Bastille station thinking “I am an idiot.” At this point, I noticed a gentleman standing next to me. “Regardes les bateaus!” He mumbled, proudly displaying both of his teeth as he smiled and gestured towards the row of boats with his tall can of high ABV cheap beer. I smiled, nodded my head, and we parted ways. The train pulled up and I wedged myself in the back of the car – an area which the teenage couple beside me seemed to have mistaken for a bedroom. And I thought the hip-hop dancers dancing over my head at Bastille would be the most entertaining teenagers I would see that day.

Not to be outdone (so-to-speak) by the passengers of Line 1, Line 2 had its own assortment of crazies. The lady with bright orange hair who was donning a neon green jacket and bright pink leggings frantically darting from passenger to passenger in search of the time, for instance. Between each interrogation she would check her cellular telephone and watch…maybe she was quizzing everyone. As hard as she was to ignore, I noticed an approximately 30 year old man on the other end of the bus with long hair and a goatee who looked somewhat upset. Then came the tears. Two stops later as I exited the train the man had begun to bawl.

11:41 marked my first mullet sighting as the 3bis flew by the most disgusting station in Paris – Saint Fargeaux. Fortunately I have no idea what it smelled like, but I’m guessing something between rotting flesh and brimstone. Every inch of the wall was covered in mold in various shades of green, blue, yellow, and death. At the other end of the metro spectrum are Gambetta, Concorde, Cadet, and Gare de Lyon which resemble a discotheque, a giant crossword puzzle, a Georgia Fourth of July celebration, and a jungle respectively. Many metros are also bedazzled with various advertisements, one of which depicts a hybrid hippo-headed-goldfish in pursuit of a scuba penguin. It was my favorite.

Lines 5, 6, and 7 introduced me to the booger eater, a child mullet, and headlamp man. Headlamp man was joined on the seven by featherhats and fannypack speaker guy. More on fannypack speaker guy in the sounds section, but his singing was amplified by the speaker that he held in his bright turquoise fanny pack. On the 8 line I was given a glimpse into the future of the makeout couple from line 1 as I was seated across from a middle aged couple who had similarly mistaken the car for an appropriate place to grope one another. On the Nine, the train broke down, the lights went out, and 90% of the people got off when some announcement was made in French. I ignored it and waited ten minutes until the train started up again. I win.

Between the 10, 11, and 12 I spent a great deal of time in Chatelet walking. During this time, I saw several murals, three teenagers being escorted out of the metro by RATP police for throwing candy at people, and found out that I had the power to re-animate broken escalators simply by walking the wrong direction on them. If you’ve never been jolted backward and upward by the ground beneath your feet while descending a staircase, I don’t really recommend it. On the 13 and 14 I was in somewhat of a haze, though I did get to watch two adults fight for a seat on a sparsely populated train. So ended my adventure.

While French postcards often give the illusion that the sights of Paris are limited to its many monuments, the real Paris is found deep underground. Paris isn’t la tour Eiffel, les invalides, Notre Dame, or Sacre Cœur. The real sights of La Ville-Lumiere are mold, themed metro stations, overly-affectionate Parisians, drunks, and pee gutters.

Thanks for reading about the sights, and stay tuned for The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of Paris’ 16 Metro Lines Part 3: The Sound of Metro.