How to visit the Catacombs - FAQ

First off, I should say that this assumes a certain level of both knowledge and motivation. Motivation I can do nothing about either way, but if you're currently either wondering "what are Catacombs?" or thinking "isn't that somewhere under Rome or something?" you have some rudimentary reading to do. If you're thinking "does he mean how to visit that weird museum in Paris?" you're closer, but still not quite there. Anyway, go read this, or this, or this, or heck, even this. Then come back here.

OK, so you want to go visit the catas but you don’t quite know what you’re doing. Here's a helpful FAQ. If you do know what you’re doing, you’ll find most of this unnecessary, but there might be a helpful tidbit or two in here.

Do I need a guide?

You do not need a guide. Stop asking around for one right now. You don't need even need to speak French. If you possess the ability to read a map and some common sense you'll be fine. In fact, you probably don't even want a guide. Not only is it kind of lame, but a local is not going to want to hoof it around for hours visiting all the places they’ve seen a million times. Locals generally go to the catas to party, or just to relax and hang out with their friends. If they’re doing something else it’s probably making art or working on opening something up, both of which are going to entail staying in one place for hours while you're chomping at the bit to go take off down the next tunnel.

If, for some reason, you are still insisting on asking around for a guide, you should probably be offering to pay. Why do you think someone would want to schlep around in the dark with a stranger for free? Actually, come to think of it, hire me. I'll do it for plane fare, accommodation, and a $500 day rate.

What are the hazards?

Well, you will probably bump your head a couple times. You might twist an ankle if you aren't careful. I've heard that there is a small but real danger of structural collapse, although the Parisians have spent the last 234 years stabilizing the network.

You'll also get your feet wet. If you don't want to get your feet wet, you're going to need either hip waders or chest waders, depending on your height. I have yet to see someone go in with calf-high rubber boots and come out with dry feet. With careful navigation you can pretty much avoid the thigh-level water, but not the knee-level water. While most of the tunnels aren't flooded, this is a pretty commonplace scene:

Personally, as I find waders a huge pain in the neck (not to mention taking up a lot of room in your bag flying over) I just go in a pair of sneakers with a dry pair of socks and shoes to change into, although I usually end up getting those wet also. Another option is to bring flip-flops (or even go barefoot) and shorts for the wet parts, but some of the footing is a bit treacherous and the water can be muddy, so I’d wear something with more traction and ankle support.

You'll probably also get dirty, although that might just be me. Somehow, the French have this amazing ability to spend hours in a dank, dirty tunnel network and still emerge looking like they just stepped out of a Yves St. Laurent catalog.

But isn't this dangerous?

Well, no, not really. I'd say it's marginally more dangerous than getting out of bed in the morning and going about your day, but not by a whole lot. The biggest thing is this - a lot can go wrong just going about your day. You could accidentally step in a hole and break your ankle, or run into some mean people and get mugged, or get too drunk and not be able to find your way home. But you're not too worried about this - you call an ambulance, or the police, or a cab. And anyway, how often does this really happen?

The biggest thing in the catas is that there's no "Esc" key. If you break your ankle, you're going to have to figure out how to wind your way back through the tunnels for a couple miles to the entrance in horrific pain before you can call a doctor. It's not that much different from going backcountry camping in this regard, although you certainly can't call for a Medivac or anything.

But isn’t this illegal?

Sure. Being illegal it what makes the place so great. With legality comes security guards, "don't touch" signs, 6 Euro hot dogs, and all that garbage. And anyway, it’s not THAT illegal. Even if you do run into cops (which does happen) you won’t go to jail or get deported or anything. You'll just get a fine. I've heard different amounts for this fine, with the highest being 120 Euros, which is probably what you'd pay just going sightseeing for a couple days anyway. Plus, you know, this is France. Actually making sure you pay the fine is probably considered more trouble than it’s worth. Police presence goes in cycles. If you know any locals, ask if the cops have been around lately. Police presence is also heavier on the weekends and almost always concentrated in the most frequented parts of the catacombs.

Will I run into people?

Most likely. There's a lot of folks in the catas, especially on weekends. And people come from all over the world. I've spent a total of about 70-80 hours down there, and have met (in addition to countless French), Japanese, Swedes, Koreans, Germans, British, Australians, Canadians, Americans, and a hound dog.

I’ve also recognized tags or art from people from four different continents.

You're most likely to run into people around La Plage, which is kind of the Times Square of the catacombs and about a 30-minute walk from the main entrance. These will probably be groups of mostly-young, mostly-male French folks hanging out. People are generally nice enough, but the vibe is pretty much "we're all here to do our own thing." A simple "Bonsouir" is usually sufficient communication, although I've had conversations with people. If you speak French you'll obviously have an easier time, but plenty of people speak English. You might also run into some foreigners, who will probably be taking pictures.

If you get deeper into the catas, you're more likely to run across more hardcore cataphiles. These folks will probably be a bit older (30s or even 40s) and dressed more for a caving expedition than a party. This is what a cataphile generally looks like (on the left):

The older cataphiles will know a lot more about stuff not on the map or usually closed things that happen to be open at the moment. With both groups, offering booze is always a good way to make friends.

So what should I bring?

Light - this is the most important thing. Bring three light source (same as for caving), with extra batteries and whatnot. If you run out of light, especially in a part of the catas that isn’t frequented very much, you’re somewhat fucked.

The Map - regular cataphiles don't need one, but you sure do. Think a fairly complex Dungeons and Dragons module. That's what you're in. If, for some reason, you lose the map you probably won’t die. Your best bet is to wander around until you find somewhere that looks interesting or has a lot of art and wait there. People will be along sometime.

There's a few different maps, but they're all more or less the same. When I went for the first time in January 2006 I got a .pdf version from some cataphile friends that I printed out at printing shop (It measured about two feet by three feet), and have used that version ever since, mostly just because it's what I'm used to. But you, full denizen of the digital age, don't even have to worry about having a hookup anymore. You can now download a copy (in English no less!) here.

The site's a little hard navigate, but hey: if you can't make your way around a website, you don't really have any business trying to make your way around the catacombs. Whatever map you end up using will probably have an inaccuracy or two, and won't cover the entire network (they generally omit a lot of the southern part), but are incredibly comprehensive overall and will be more than sufficient for getting you around. Some people laminate theirs to keep it from getting wet or door (which is almost certainly will), or sometimes cut it up and make a little book out of it instead of keeping the huge version. I just take a spare or two.

A tip: printing large format in France in incredibly expensive - print a few copies in Kinkos or Staples before you go - it should only cost you a few bucks each in Black and White (you don't need color).

Water - if you're planning a trip of any length, this will probably be your limiting factor as water is pretty heavy. But again, if you run out of water you won’t die – there’s a bunch of flooded tunnels where you can get a drink (flooded tunnels are even indicated on the map). Now, I should mention I have no idea how potable this water is and I have heard stories of people getting sick from drinking it. But if you're really stuck, as it’s just groundwater, I’m guessing it’ll most likely be OK. It probably won’t even be that gross as long as someone hasn't walked through it lately and kicked up a bunch of dirt.

Food - think camping provisions if you're going for any length of time. If you're just ducking in for the night, by all means prepare a 7-course continental dinner or whatever else you can haul through the tunnels for a half-mile or so, which is about how long it'll take before you get somewhere you can sit.

Sleeping Gear - I highly recommend sleeping in the catacombs, but you've got to do it right. I've spent two nights down there - one of the best, and one of the most miserable sleeps of my life.

The first time I brought only a sleeping bag and laid it out on the floor. If you sleep on the floor, or especially on the stone, after about 10 minutes it's going to start feeling like you're Harry Potter having your soul sucked out by a Dementor. I had to sleep wrapped up in a sleeping bag with my jacket, gloves, and hat on, and still shivered all night. A sleeping pad would probably help, but I don't know how much.

This is how to do it. The second time I brought a hammock. This was awesome. I still slept in my sweater, pants, and sleeping bag but didn't need a hat or anything. There's a bunch of places where people have put hammock hooks. We slept in the Cabinet Minerologic, which has the disadvantage of being somewhat heavily trafficked, but was the only place we knew of with hammock hooks (although I'm pretty sure there's some in the Salle Rouge also). You can get a travel hammock that's really light and packs down to the size of a softball for about 50 bucks.

I suppose you should probably bring a first aid kit and such also. I can't say I’ve ever brought one myself, but it seems like a good policy.

So what should I see?

Generally speaking, it's funnest just to wander around and find awesome stuff (and there's a bunch of awesome stuff). There's lots marked on the map - go find it and see if it's cool. If you really want a destination guide, some of the most popular follow. Consider this a spoiler alert. I should also note that this only refers to the "Great Southern Network," or the largest quarry network that runs mainly underneath most of XIV arrondissement and parts of the neighboring arrondissements. There's also other, smaller networks throughout Paris and the suburbs.

If you're into art - go check out La Plage, Le Cellier, Gallarie des Promos and the Castle Room

If you're into history - go check out the German Bunker, and try to get to the Val de Grace although it's kind of a pain. Also make sure to read up on the inscriptions (it's on the English map), and pay attention to those. If the Free French bunker is open get to that also, but it's usually closed.

If you're into bones and creepy stuff - go check out the Ossuaries and the Tombe Philibert. Also go on the official tour.

If you're into cool spaces and architecture - go check out the Salle Z, the Abri Laval, and definitely try to get to the Aqueduct too, but that's almost always closed. Also the Cube Room I think is kind of cool.

If you have a limited amount of time - you should probably enter and head straight to La Plage, Le Cellier, the Salle Marie Rose, and the Castle room. They’re all reasonably near the main entrance and pretty close together. You can be visit them all and still be in-and-out in a few hours.

(Cata pros - feel free to chime in on any of the above. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff I'm forgetting or haven't been to).

What other random stuff should I know?

Time - for some reason, time seems to go really quickly in the catas. You'll check your watch thinking you've been in there for a few hours and it's already the next day.

Weather - one of the wonderful things is that the weather is completely consistent year-round. About 55 degrees (Fahrenheit) and very, very humid. This has the practical effect of making you kind of hot when you're walking around, but quickly cooling you down when you stop to rest. As such, layers that you can easily put on and take off are a good idea.

Taking care of business - you can pretty much pee anywhere reasonably out-of-the-way, it won't be too long before it gets filtered into the groundwater. For a #2, you should probably go to a dead-end tunnel and bury it, although as it's not going to decompose anytime soon try to abstain if you can (it's also just plain nasty to take a poo down there). It's also obviously good form to pack out all your garbage. The cataphiles are actually on a bit of an anti-littering kick right now, and have started organizing cleanups.

So how do I get there?

Fly to Paris. There’s one entrance in an abandoned rail tunnel in the southern part of the XIV arrondissement that’s always open. I can’t quite bring myself to give A-Z directions on the Internet but trust me, it’s not a secret or anything. Someone will tell you if you ask. Heck, I’ll probably tell you if you ask. If you know a local or two you might have a lead on other entrances, which tend to kind of come and go. The main benefit of the other entrances is avoiding the flooded tunnels in the southern part of the catas, but it's also just kind of fun to get in and out other ways.

So that's about it. The catas are loads of fun and, at least for me, the coolest place in the world (and I've been a lot of places). I highly recommend checking them out.

7 Days, 6, Cities, 5 Countries, 4 Languages - Third Man, Second Cousin, First Time Everywhere

I blitzed Central Europe. Heading by overnight train out of Rome, we stopped for the afternoon in Venice, before continuing on to Vienna. Arriving at night, we spent the next 36 hours there before heading by bus to Prague. Two nights in Prague, and it’s on to Berlin. One night in Berlin, and it’s a van for two hours to Sczcecin, Poland. Count it up - it works.

General impressions are here, with more specifics to follow.

Rome: Rome reminded me a lot of Washington, D.C. Government and Tourism are pretty much the whole economy, and everything touristy is mainly concentrated in a small section in the middle of the city. I liked the city, and it was fun to visit, but I didn’t really feel it.

Venice: Venice is tourism - at least if you don’t have a boat and can visit the outlying islands. We couldn’t get away from it - overpriced cafes and tzotzcke shops everywhere. We did managed to find a couple of somewhat out-of-the way corners, but probably only because it was a nasty day in the off-season. I didn’t quite get the appeal of Venice, I have to say.

Vienna: We were in Vienna for one reason: to go visit the underground river that was used in Orsen Welles’ “The Third Man.” The trip was kind of fun, if simple (and full of spiders) - peep the Cave Clan tag we found in there!The third man is basically a movie about Vienna - kind of the same way that “On the Town” is a movie about New York. The only other thing of note that we did was head up the spire of St. Stephen’s Cathedral in the middle of town, where the views were awful. Probably the worst observation deck I’ve been on. I didn’t much like Vienna as a whole.

Prague: Prague is small, beautiful, cheap for Europe, and extremely touristy. I get the feeling there’s another layer of the city, probably pretty interesting, but one which foreigners will never know. Prague is not really a migrant city, and the population seems to pretty much consist of people there for a couple days and people there for life. Language is also a factor. There’s plenty of people who speak English, French, Spanish, even Portuguese and Italian as second languages. Nobody speaks Czech as a second language - not unless they marry a Czech person and move there. These two factors, at least to me, seem to indicate a city for tourists, a city for locals, and never the twain shall meet.

Berlin: I actually really liked Berlin, which I was not expecting. In fact, even though I didn’t even spend 24 contiguous hours there, I think it deserves it’s own post. More to come.

Sczcecin: Szczecin is not really on the typical European tour list. It’s not even one of those “off the beaten path” kind of cities, and visiting certainly never would have crossed my mind if I hadn’t had relatives there. Still, it was fairly interesting. A German city called Stettin until the end of WWII (today it’s right across the border, and most people visiting by air will fly into Berlin), it has Poland’s second-largest port, next to Gdansk, or Danzig. Architecture is one of three things: the old German City, Soviet era (basically concrete blocks), and post-Soviet era (basically the same concrete blocks, but sometimes with balconies, and painted purple or green). I was only there to visit my second cousin (well, first cousin twice removed, but second cousin fits in with the title better).

Hanging With the Pope

We headed out of Naples for Rome. Our stated mission was to break into the oldest sewer in the world. But there was other stuff to see along the way. You don’t go to Rome without planning some appreciation for the two great historical institutions that have had their headquarters there: the Roman Empire and the Catholic Church.

The first Catholic site I went to was St. Peter’s Basilica . In addition to being a historic, artistic, and architectural marvel, St. Peter’s actually has a remarkable amount of public access. In fact, you can see five different levels at one point. After checking out the interior, I headed up to the top.

I took the stairs the whole way. After a few hundred steps, you’re out on a balcony on the inside overlooking the alter.From there, you head out to the lower roof.

Then a few hundred more steps and you’re rewarded with great views of Rome from the viewing terrace on top of the dome, which was designed by Michelangelo as one of his last works.

he walk up itself was actually pretty fun. There’s about a dozen different types of staircases along the way, and at one point you actually have to learn about 20 degrees to the right while walking, to adjust for the slope of the dome.

The other two levels are below. Underneath the alter is the tomb of the past popes, which is publicly accessible whenever the Basilica is open. And underneath that level is a fascinating archeological site. Tours are given semi-regularly, and we were lucky enough to catch one in English.

Before there was a St. Peter’s Basilica - in fact before there was a St. Peter - the area west of the Tiber river was mainly a burial place. Underneath the Vatican is an entire “City of the Dead” - catacombs filled with Christian, Jewish, and Pagan burial sites. Over the years it’s been excavated, and now has periodic tours where you can also see the burial place of St. Peter. Our guide told us the long twisted take of discovering St. Peter’s remains - basically, since the Vatican’s nightmare was to not find St. Peter’s remains below the alter where they were supposed to be, excavation was held up for centuries. Eventually, remains were found matching the age, sex, and expiration date of the Basilica’s namesake. The final kicker that led the Vatican to declare they were St. Peter’s remains? Despite an abundance of hand and finger bones, there were no foot bones found. Legend has it that St. Peter was crucified upside-down. The easiest way to take a dead body off an upside-down cross? Chop off his feet at the ankles.

A lot of people mistakenly think that St. Peter’s Basilica is the seat of the Bishop of Rome - A.K.A. the Pope. Actually, that honor is held by St. John Lateran - or “The Cathedral Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John Baptist and John the Evangelist in the Lateran.” Cathedral because it contains a Cathedra, or seat of a Bishop. Archbasilica because as the seat of the Pope, it’s considered above all other basilicas. Most Holy Savior because all Patriarchal Basilicas consider Jesus to be the primary patron, with whoever they are named after (Paul, Peter, the Johns, and the Virgin Mary), as secondary patrons. Saint John the Baptist and the Evanglalist because it was actually dedicated twice, and they decided to keep them both. And in the Lateran, because the location is the site of the former palace of the Laterani family.

I decided to head to St. John’s right after my visit to St. Peter’s. And after that, I decided to try and make a Grand Slam of the four Major Basilicas. I headed to St. Paul’s Outside the Walls next (which is supposedly above the burial place of St. Paul). St. Paul’s is most noteworthy for having a portrait of every Pope in history. When there’s no more room for another Pope, it signals (obviously) the end of the world. There’s eight spots left. For centuries, the Roman Catholic Church would not let any Non-Catholic Churches in the city of Rome. The name of the first one, an English language Anglican church? Why “St. Paul’s Inside the Walls” of course. I finished off the Grand Slam with a visit to St. Mary Maggiore, about a half-hour before it closed.

The next day we went to see the Vatican Museum (best known for the Sistine Chapel with the famous ceiling by Michelangelo). The scene in the Chapel is half funny, half pitiful. It’s unbelievably crowded, and despite the prominently displayed “flashbulb with a slash through it” signs, you keep hearing is the guards saying “no flash, no flash” in a resigned voice about every 10 seconds.

In addition to the Vatican Museum, we also saw the Pope. It wasn’t too tough - you head to St. Peter’s on Tuesday, the Swiss Guards give you tickets (free of charge), and you show up the next day.

The whole thing was hilarious. The Pope reads a short statement in about a dozen different languages. Then after each time he reads it, he basically gives a shout-out to whoever happens to be there that speaks that language. If a group from a church in Uruguay is visiting (which they were), he’ll say something like “and I wish to welcome the congregation of St. Mary’s from Montevideo, Uruguay” after he’s done reading the statement in Spanish, and the aforementioned congregation will stands up and cheer and wave Uruguayan flags. Repeat for everyone else that’s there. At one point, I kid you not, a Marching Band stood up and played a few songs after their organization had been given a shout-out. Then after all of that the Pope blesses everything in the room, and that’s a wrap. It’s basically the same as going to a rap concert, but instead of “Is Brooklyn in the House?” it’s “is St. Stephen’s Church of Bratislava, Slovakia in the house?” And as said by Pope Benedict XVI instead of the Method Man.

Napoli on Tour

“Indiana Jones!!! Da-Da-Da-Daaaah!!!.” The short, elderly, and extremely energetic guide was shouting this non stop while nimbly racing through the 2-foot wide ancient Greek aqueduct tunnels 100 feet underneath the city. We were the only two participants on this particular Napoli Sotterranea tour - offered Saturday mornings only, from an obscure address in the Spanish Quarter.

The Spanish Quarter itself is one of the more interesting neighborhoods in Naples. Geographically, it lies directly west of the City Center on a gently sloping hill. Its narrow and compact streets from a grid, the only part of Naples that strictly follows this pattern. Socially, it’s a densely populated working-class, yet somewhat eccentric, neighborhood. This is the neighborhood where you’re most likely to run into a 6-year old riding backward a Vespa motor scooter being driven by his 9-year-old sister, or one the femignelli, as members of Naples’ venerable Transsexual community are called.

Below the Spanish quarter is even more interesting - it’s home to an extensive network of underground aqueducts and cisterns, many of which were turned into air-raid shelters during the war, including the one we were currently touring. Tours were only in Italian - other than “Look, Look!,” and “Ooh, La, La!” two phrases our guide used every couple of minutes. Steve mostly took pictures, but I tried my best to combine the various things that were pointed out with a basic knowledge of Romance languages and the copious use of hand gestures from our guide to get a sense of the stories he was trying to tell us.

From what I gathered, the house above where we entered had been the house our guide and his brother had grown up in. During World War II, when they were children, they had hidden in the old cistern below that had been turned into an air-raid shelter. After the war, illegal dumping from construction had filled in much of the old air-raid shelters and underground network. Later on, when they were adults, they had re-entered and excavated this old air-raid shelter and the surrounding network and started giving tours.

“Illegal” dumping is actually a strong, word - again, “extralegal” is probably the best term. In a city like Naples, bureaucracy, building codes, and paperwork are basically taken as, well, one of the many different ways of doing things. And post-war building almost never followed this official way. We encountered an interesting example in our journey through one of the underground tunnels we found. From what we could tell, it was designed and meant for use exclusively as a storm drain. However, we saw small sewer pipes every once in a while flowing into the drain. During the post-war building boom, if it were easier and cheaper to just connect nearby buildings’ sewage systems to this storm drain instead of an actual sewer, no doubt a way was found to make it happen.

Among the other stories I managed to semi-understand were that of a pregnant woman giving birth on the stairs down to the air-raid shelter (who later on got in touch with him through a reporter), the damp air being used for the development of penicillin, and how the toilets were right next to the bottom of the stairs. Why? Well, if you’re in imminent danger of having a bomb level your house, what’s the first way your body might react?

All in all, it was a great tour. We emerged out of a nondescript door in a nondescript alley, with a nondescript middle-aged Italian woman staring at us. Those are the entrances to the fascinating underground world of Naples. Not manholes, not anything really even publicly accessible. They’re in people’s houses, or hidden in plain sight. In Naples, not just for the underground but really for anything, knowledge and access are gained through people, relationships, not through internet research or random poking around. While developing those relationships in one conversation is certainly not unheard of (Steve managed to talk his way into a Greek and Roman excavation site beneath a Church, for instance) they can often take lifetimes to develop, if not generations.

Luckily for us, there were a few organizations, institutions, and just quirky individuals (such as our aforementioned Indians Jones impersonator) who gave tours, or at least provided varying degrees of public access, to a good amount of the fascinating underground infrastructure of the cities. We got to see old air-raid shelters, catacombs, crypts, aqueducts, and archeological sites legally - a great deal more (and better) stuff than we got to see during our extralegal excursions. We could have seen even more if we hadn’t come during the winter, including the fascinating Fontanelle Cemetery, closed until April.

And of course we made time to take a day trip to climb Mt. Vesuvius (my first time seeing an active volcano) and explore the ruins of Pompeii as well. While there, I of course could help but engage in a tiny bit of just slightly extralegal underground exploration. One of the ancient houses had a grate in front of it. Removing this revealed a staircase that led to a small basement below. I could a quick look and headed back up - only realizing afterward that this was probably the oldest underground space I had ever been in.