The Weirder Side Of Paris: A Guide to 101 Bizarre, Bloodstained, or Macabre Sights, From the Merely Eccentric to the Downright Ghoulish

Peculiar Paris?

Some cities, like London, with centuries of often violent and bloody history behind them, tend to revel in—and make pots of money from—their creepier, gorier heritage. In London you can explore the 900-year-old Tower, echoing with memories of dungeons, torture chambers, and beheadings; visit various cheesy-but-fun tourist traps featuring tableaux of the city's bloodstained past; or take a Jack the Ripper walking tour and see where the corpses were found, all accompanied by a wealth of gruesome detail.

The Paris Tourist Office, on the other hand, wouldn't think of exploiting anything that was in such bad taste. Paris's history is even bloodier and more violent than London's, but France, for the most part, declines to grab tourist dollars by making the most of every gory detail of the bloody excesses that took place, from time to time, during its 16th-century religious wars or its various revolutions and uprisings from 1789 to 1871. France's two official working guillotines, last used on murderers' necks in 1977 and retired since 1981, are permanently locked away, far from curious eyes. And revolutionary Parisians, never stopping to think that it could earn them millions of euros two centuries later, shortsightedly demolished the Bastille—Paris's deliciously sinister, history-laden version of the Tower of London—in 1790.

Luckily, the Municipal Ossuary (a.k.a. the Catacombs), the best-known Parisian creepy place open to the public, is truly one of the creepiest places in Europe. But there's a lot more than the Catacombs to explore in the darker and weirder side of the city—you just have to know where to look.

Beyond the world-famous attractions in the standard brochures are unknown and uncrowded areas of Paris that feature wacky shops, strange monuments, offbeat museums, over-the-top cemeteries, peculiar public art, bizarre hidden relics of centuries past—and enough blood-soaked historical sites to satisfy even the most morbid. Already done the Parisian clichés? If you want a break from the Impressionist paintings, the overpriced cafés on the Champs-Élysées, or the scenic views of the Eiffel Tower, you could visit a painting of a gutted ox, have an espresso at a café where an assassination took place (and see the bloodstains), or enjoy a scenic view of a six-story-high mausoleum. In short, if you need a change from the must-sees, and you're hankering for something weird, offbeat, or macabre to shake up your trip—then this book is for you.

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Why isn't this book laden with photos and maps, like most guidebooks? you may wonder, after sampling a few pages.

Practical considerations aside—keeping illustrations to a minimum keeps costs and prices down—I, for one, would rather not have photos in the sort of guidebook that focuses on little-known sights. It's one thing to see a photo of the Eiffel Tower in a guidebook; everyone on the planet already knows what that looks like. But when I go hunting for something weird or cool that I'd never known about, I've found that half the fun is gone if I've already got a photo of it in a book. Why spoil the delight of discovery with a preview?

That's why you won't find current photos of the destinations I list in this book. If you're an armchair traveler in the age of the Internet, however, you'll find plenty of photos easily enough via an image search and/or a stroll through Paris's streets with Google Earth. Maps, too, are so accessible on the average smartphone that there seems to be very little point in cluttering up a book with them. (But just in case you, like me, are one of the few people who still don't have a smartphone, head over to the "Getting Around" appendix.)

Meanwhile, if you're planning an upcoming trip to Paris, read on for some basic info that will streamline things a bit as you set out to find the weird and creepy:

Basic Need-to-Know for Explorers in Paris

• The most useful things you can have if you're in search of the stranger and farther-flung aspects of the city are an unlimited-use pass to the Métro and other public transportation, and (if you don't plan on using an app to guide you) a Michelin map. There are several different versions of each of these, with their pluses and minuses, so check out the appendices to decide which is best for you. This book is arranged by arrondissement (administrative district), so it's possible to walk from one sight to another within each chapter, particularly in the center of Paris (Arrondissements 1 to 8), but attractions in the outer arrondissements are farther apart and you may need to take the Métro or bus. All sights in the suburbs—that is, Greater Paris, beyond the official city limits of Paris itself—are easily reachable by Métro, RER, or city bus, with a regular fare or pass (see Getting Around).

• Admission prices: Usually discounts exist for students 25 and under; kids 18 and under; senior citizens; the disabled; and more (you'll have to show legit proof of status). Accompanied kids are sometimes free. To save space, I've usually listed only the maximum admission price for an attraction. Some museums and monuments are free to all on the first Sunday of the month, some year-round, some only in winter. Visit the museum or monument's website to find out about any reduced rates or to see if you can take advantage of a free day.

The Paris Museum Pass, available for 2, 4, or 6 consecutive days of all-you-can-stare-at museum- and monument-going in and outside the city, is always included as an admission option when available. If you have at least two consecutive days for museum-going—and the energy to hit multiple sights in one day—you'll save not only money, but also loads of time standing in ticket lines, especially during high season.

• Assume that taking photographs is allowed unless mentioned otherwise. However, most museums and monuments won't let you use a flash, which can damage delicate artworks and textiles, as well as being incredibly annoying to other visitors.

• Most of Paris's wonderful cemeteries, including the most popular Big Three (Père-Lachaise, Montmartre, and Montparnasse), are operated by the city and are always free to visit. Visit the Cemetery Info appendix for hours, more information, and links to lots of downloadable, printable .pdf maps to all the city-run cemeteries covered in this book.

Despite being, well, full of dead people, these historic cemeteries are more scenic than spooky, so only some standout individual tombs earn Creepiness ratings. But a stroll through any of the jam-packed-with-celebrities, not-an-inch-left-unused, each-extravagant-tomb-trying-to-outdo-the-other Big Three will definitely give you plenty of weirdness for their sheer excess, especially if you're used to the standard North American type of cemetery with small, relatively simple and modest headstones in well-separated, grassy plots.

• Memorize this or you'll be very, very confused: The maddening French word hôtel can mean any of three different things: (1) a hotel in the English sense, a place to get a room for the night; (2) a large public building (such as hôtel de ville, city hall); or (3) a mansion or town house built before the mid 19th century (hôtel particulier, private mansion), a lot of which are to be found in Paris, usually named after the filthy-rich families that built them, even if they're now serving some other purpose, often as an embassy or museum. In this book, to keep things as clear as possible, the French hôtel (with the circumflex accent) always means a mansion or public building, while hotel, with no accent, always means a place to stay the night.

• I've referred to floors in buildings in the North American fashion: the ground-level floor is the first floor, one flight up is the second floor, and so on. In French the ground floor is the rez-de-chaussée (RC on the button in the elevator) and the basement or lower level is the sous-sol (SS).

• When traveling on the Métro, never change from one Métro line to another at Châtelet or Montparnasse-Bienvenüe [Gare Montparnasse] if you can possibly help it. These two are the biggest, most complex stations in Paris, and I recommend avoiding them at all costs for connections unless you're a seasoned Parisian explorer and know exactly where you're going, and which transfers are close by; it's quite easy to walk a quarter mile in the labyrinths in these multi-line stations. Visitors unfamiliar with Paris should use other transfers as an alternative to Châtelet or Montparnasse whenever possible.

• Nothing lasts forever, especially information in travel guides. Hours and admission fees continually change, as do Web addresses; a few random Métro stations are shut for restoration at any given time; museums can often close for renovations, temporarily block off large sections to the public, and/or remove individual items from view without warning. Names of streets or squares get changed now and then, and even graves in cemeteries can occasionally be moved or disappear altogether! I'll update this book whenever possible, but please keep in mind that such information may not be entirely accurate at the time of your visit to Paris. If you're on a tight schedule, confirm all museum/monument hours (and fees) at their websites.

About 40% of Paris's museums and monuments are closed on Mondays, and another 40% are closed on Tuesdays, so plan your sightseeing accordingly.

• It's impossible not to refer to major historical events, most of them fairly gruesome, when talking about Paris's weirder or creepier sights. Visit the Timeline appendix for a highly compressed crash course in French history.

• French geographical/map designations:

Bois = large public park, literally a woodland; the two by Paris are the Bois de Boulogne to the west and the Bois de Vincennes to the southeast.

Boulevard = boulevard. A wide street, occasionally with little service roads at either side. In Paris, the inner boulevards or grands boulevards circle the Right Bank on the site of 16th-century walls. The outer boulevards—actually middle boulevards on the 21st-century map—go along the line of the taxing wall of the 1780s. The boulevards at the outer edge of the modern city run roughly along the Péripherique (elevated beltway) and the city limits that divide Paris from the suburban towns.

Cité = a small, often enclosed and/or dead-end, pedestrian street, usually containing shops or workshops.

Cour = court; usually a small street that is enclosed in some way.

Impasse = cul-de-sac, dead-end street

Jardin = public garden

Parc = park

Passage = broad alley, covered with a glass roof to make an early-19th-century upscale pedestrian shopping area

Place = public square (always paved, without lawn/garden space)

Rue = street

Ruelle = a very small street or alley

Square = a small public green space (always with greenery)

Villa = Similar to a cité, but residential, often gated with access limited to residents.

Roughly, a parc is larger than a square, and a bois (woodland) is considerably larger than a parc; while a jardin public usually includes a planted formal garden as well as what we think of as a park—areas with lawns, trees, benches, public tennis courts, and the like—and can be almost any size, from square-size to parc-size. The Jardin du Luxembourg, for example, is big and mostly park, but since there are a lovely formal garden and fountains just south of the palace, it's a considered a jardin. Got that?

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I. Within Paris

The Best Major Weird or Creepy Places in Paris

(You may have already visited #1)

7. Musée des Monuments Français

Copies of sculptures from medieval church façades (and more) all over France, including some very strange images

6. The medieval sculpture department at the Louvre

Tomb effigies and much more

5. Musée de l'Histoire de la Médecine

Scary-looking medical instruments of the past, plus some creepily preserved body parts

4. Musée des Égouts

The sewer museum, with a strange and smelly walk through part of Paris's underground city

3. Musée des Arts et Métiers

The history of technology and inventions over the past 200 years, with thousands of gadgets, both useful and weird

2. Musée de l'École Vétérinaire de Maisons-Alfort

The museum at Paris's veterinary college, including two-headed animals and some of the most grotesque artworks ever

1. The Catacombs

The artfully arranged bones of six million Parisians fill the huge chambers of the city's ancient limestone quarries

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1st Arrondissement

The Antechamber to the Guillotine

La Conciergerie

Métro: Cité; St. Michel-Nôtre-Dame; Châtelet

Creepiness/Macabre: * *

Allow: 2-3 hours

The Conciergerie was originally built as part of the medieval royal palace that stood where the adjacent 18th-century Palais de Justice, Paris's law courts, stands now. It was also used as a prison, especially for prisoners just before and after their trials. One of its round medieval towers was slangily named Tour Bonbec, good beak (talk), as a reference to the interrogation and torture that sometimes took place there. But the prison became most notorious as the antechamber to the guillotine during the French Revolution, where prisoners, including Marie-Antoinette, were held for the days or weeks before their trials at the Revolutionary Tribunal in the courts next door. About 3000 people passed through the Conciergerie on their way to the guillotine between 1792 and 1794 (although many other prisoners, especially in 1792 and early 1793, were acquitted and released).

Because it's convenient to the courts, a large section of the Conciergerie is still in use as a prison. There's much more to it than just the parts that are open to the public, which center around the women's courtyard, Marie-Antoinette's cell, and the Salle des Gens d'Armes, the huge vaulted medieval hall that you'll see as soon as you enter the building.

When you visit:

Although the stress at the Conciergerie is on its role during the Terror, don't scoot through and miss details in the wonderful Salle des Gens d'Armes like the spiral staircase and the enormous fireplaces that kept feasting nobles and royalty warm. It was once a royal banqueting hall in the 1300s; it feels today as if it's at basement level, which shows how much the ground level of Paris's streets, especially on the Île de la Cité, inhabited for over 2000 years, has risen over the centuries. (You might notice the inscription on one pillar, "Inondation 28 Janvier 1910," which shows the high-water mark inside the hall during the disastrous flood of 1910 that turned streets near the Seine into rivers.)

The various cells that you'll see elsewhere in the building, mostly upstairs, were actually the cells occupied by wealthier prisoners who could afford to pay for some space and some comforts. Conditions below, during the Terror, were appalling; the prison was crowded to bursting, with a dozen prisoners crammed into one small, reeking, barely ventilated dungeon cell. Many looked forward to their trials as a chance to finally get some fresh air—even though, by the summer of 1794, it was more likely than not that the fresh air would come during a free ride to the guillotine.

The guillotine blade that is displayed on the wall, however, doesn't date from the Terror but from 1836, when it was used to behead the famous murderer and prison poet Pierre-François Lacenaire.

When you're done exploring the Conciergerie and are outside again, take a moment to walk a few steps south on Boulevard du Palais and peer through the iron fence into the Cour du Mai, the courtyard of the Palais de Justice.

Look to either side of the grand staircase, where there are a pair of lowish stone arches. The arch on the right leads to a short flight of steps down to a small, sunken mini-courtyard. During the French Revolution this little basement-level courtyard was the prisoners' entrance to, and exit from, the Conciergerie, and it was used by everyone who was on his way to a cell in the prison, or who was leaving it for the guillotine. Everybody who was condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal came out through this courtyard and climbed those stairs beneath that stone arch to waiting carts in the Cour du Mai: Marie-Antoinette, Danton, Robespierre, the works. It's changed very little in two and a quarter centuries.

Sightseeing postscript: If you're also visiting Sainte-Chapelle: once you're through the bag X-ray and whatever other security check may be in place, aside from seeing that incredible chapel (at a price), you are free to explore the Palais de Justice's courtyard and public hallways (no charge, it's a working public building). You can check out the stairs to the 18th-century entrance to the Conciergerie (above); although the door that once led to the prison now leads, unromantically (after many 19th-century alterations to the building), to the buffet du palais—the employees' cafeteria.

Inside the Palais de Justice, from the top of the grand staircase, once you're inside the first hall (Galerie Marchande), turn right and take the long passage (Galerie des Prisonniers) to Salle des Pas Perdus, on the north side of the building. The lofty, double-vaulted Salle des Pas Perdus, considered the heart of the Palais, sits right above the medieval Salle des Gens d'Armes that you saw in the Conciergerie, although it's of much later construction.

The Revolutionary Tribunal, where Marie-Antoinette and many others were tried and condemned to death, sat in what is now the Première Chambre Civile, the former Chambre Dorée (Golden Chamber) and Grand' Chambre of prerevolutionary France's highest court—don't forget that a fair number of people were also condemned to death in this room long before the French Revolution. It's at the northwest corner of the Salle des Pas Perdus: Stand with your back to the large windows opening onto Boulevard du Palais, and the Première Chambre Civile will be at the farthest door on the right, beyond the double staircase and the monument to nineteenth-century advocate Berryer. Unfortunately, the chamber isn't open to the sightseeing public. You may, if you're discreet, be able to peek through a little window in the doors for a glimpse inside,