Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Parisian Catacombs... or Hilarious Fun

          Last week's Paris trip was not actually my first time to the City of Lights. I've actually been to most of the main tourist attractions several times now, but somehow, it's the pictures at the catacombs that always turn out the best. And by "best" here, I mean "most hilarious." 

Just wait. The funny is coming.
        Originally mines, the catacombs are tunnels under the city which were filled with the bones of about 6 million people when certain graveyards became hazardous to public health and had to be emptied out. The subterranean maze has been opened and closed multiple times since the 1800s, when it first premiered as a sort of perverse tourist attraction. Since then, it's been used by revolutionaries, gypsies, and even as an illegal underground nightclub at times. It is, in short, simultaneously a very historic, very gross, very interesting place to be. And scary if you think about what could be lurking in the parts of the tunnels that have been blocked off from the tourists. (Why has no one thought to make this scary movie yet?)
          What truly makes the pictures in the catacombs spectacular is the fact that for a while, you're pretty much in darkness. This means that when I say "picture!" everyone poses, but no one who is posing knows what the people around them are going to do. This results in pure photo magic. Case in point:

Boyfriend and me, afraid of potential evil subterranean hobos who loathe daylight and want to eat us. It was a pretty masochistic of us to think that story up while we were waiting in line to get in. 
          Perhaps my favorite trip to the catacombs was last May, when I went with my dad and my best friend, who was actually terrified to go down there. She and my dad have a fairly antagonistic back-and-forth relationship, so he wasted no time in idly noting that she could get picked off by monsters if she was the last person walking in our group, but the first to be eaten by zombies if she was in the front. So she camped out in the middle, tensely holding her umbrella as a weapon, while my dad periodically made loud noises and grabbed her shoulders while she screamed and I tried not to snort from laughter. I am a good friend. 

          Now, in order to fully appreciate these pictures of them, you have to remember that neither of them could see what the other was doing:

          If you have the chance, I sincerely suggest that you and several of your friends (preferably including one  who is easily scared) visit the catacombs while you're in Paris, and that you bring a camera. Worst case scenario, even if you do get eaten by hobos/zombies/zombie hobos, there will be photographic evidence of your struggles, and you will be proclaimed heroes, and then used as subject matter for the horror movie they will make about you. Win-win situation.

1 comment:

  1. get that bitch an umbrella
    bitches love umbrellas