The Empire of the Dead

Venturing into the Catacombs was both educational and slightly depressing, to be frank. Right before that, we had gone past a bustling market street selling all sorts of fresh produce - full of life and bright faces - and emerging into the solemnity of the Catacombs was a sobering experience.

The tour itself didn't take long - about an hour, but felt longer than that. The first part entailed a climb down yet another spiral staircase into the bowels of the earth - 20 metres, to be exact, after which we emerged into a series of chambers with pictures and posters retailing the history of the place.

Next, we wandered into a network of twisting tunnels which echo the layout of the streets above. At times, the ceiling was so low that Luq could touch it with little effort, and even had to bend his head at times, although I had no difficulty traversing the place (a plus for short people, I guess).

Very annoyingly, some of the kids who were in the tunnels at the same time kept up a series of hoots and low cries, making a mockery of the solemnity that pervaded the catacombs. Not surprisingly, we lingered behind to let them get ahead as far as we possibly could.

This was aided by the physical layout of the tunnels, which did not allow two people to walk abreast comfortably. The miners who had carved out the tunnels for their limestone and gypsum had left rough-hewn blocks and columns behind, and as we were walking in their footsteps, I could not help marvelling at the courage of these ancient miners who braved such a dank, claustrophobic space in search of the earth's minerals. The air was pretty musty, with an earthy dustiness to it that choked the nostrils. This got better as we became more used to it.

There were some interesting bas-reliefs on the wall along the way, which helped to relieve the feeling of oppression derived from the history as well as location so far beneath the earth's crust. Have to say, coming face to face with what appeared to be a tombstone halfway through one's journey was more than a little spooky.

It was the "Empire of the Dead" that drove the funereal grimness home, for me, at least. These two giggly girls in front of me even posed in the doorway that led to the final resting place of so many of Paris' ancient dead. Decidedly tacky, tasteless, and I hope they had nightmares.

In this area, bones were piled as high as they could possible go. Some columns were taller than me, and reached all the way to the ceiling, while others were waist-high, due to the structure of the cavern. Skulls, rank upon rank of them, studded the colonnades, while arm and leg bones held them up in a grisly arrangement. Pleasing the 'decor' certainly wasn't, but there was a sort of macabre sense to it.

To add to the ghoulishness of the place, water droplets seeped from the ceiling above, falling onto the pebbled ground with a plop that sounded exactly as though someone nearby had displaced a few stones with his foot. I couldn't help looking around for that non-existent person, and even after finding out the cause of the noise, couldn't shake the feeling of being furtively observed. Guess I've read way too many horror novels for my own good. Have to say, though, that I watched my step really carefully - the last thing I wanted was to stumble and accidentally hold onto one of these relic bones for support!

It took two years to empty the cemeteries of Paris and fill this section of the catacombs - not to arrange it into neat stacks, but simply to throw the bones in haphazardly, so one can imagine just how many people it took to supply the designer of the "Empire of the Dead" with his gruesome tools.

*Sigh* Indeed, "To what base uses we may return"!

Reaching the last of the tunnels was a relief, even though it meant having to climb a similar staircase up again. O my poor weary feet!