We set upon the Paris Metro like only those who grew up in a city deprived of metro could, despite starting with no information, no understanding of the system and little idea on how to tackle exploration like this. Our first night, cautious and paranoid, we dipped a toe in near Cite, entering at 3am and standing around on the tracks paranoid. Hesitant at the mouth to the tunnel we debated on what to do if a train came suddenly, workers, cameras, the 3rd, what if this what if that. The tags scrawled wall to wall said it could be done, and often was. We pushed all these ifs and buts to the side and did the only thing that made sense, return another night and just fucking do it already. Our first foray down the tunnel was a success and we emerged from a vented manhole in a back corner of Chatelet. We hadn't gone far but like we'd just done, the seed we'd planted cracked through the earth and into the light.
As the logical starting candidates for the curious the abandoned stations of the Parisian Metro are not for the meek but take heart; the ones shown here are the easiest of the bunch. In fact the first day I met the girlfriend's mother we took her into one of the stations and hid behind the control boxes as the trains whistled by. Oddly enough this approach was successful and I'm still with the girl, the mother even approves of our relationship. Whether it's the city of romance at work or that fine black metro dust which clings to everything and works its way into every nook and cranny I can't say but somehow, it's working.
Access varies by station but these are all within the realm of realism, no hollywood theatrics are needed here (they're coming later incidentally). One was entered right through the front door, just over the pools of hobo piss. The shiny and expensive Abloy door lock was locked shut but poorly placed bolts meant the whole double door could be gently pushed open from inside. Conveniently this station also comes with toilet facilities, something the hobo camped at the front door probably never realised.
These four stations, like most of the ghost stations, are covered in graffiti - an almost constant reminder that everywhere we were going have been crept through years before, by countless people on their own exploratory journys. However, there are places which appear almost untouched and in time we'll get to those.
Our first steps were slow and careful but by the end we were running live track in full service, alcove hopping as needed and leaping the 3rd like prize hurdlers. This, the Rinsing of the Paris Metro would be our biggest and longest running project.
As the logical starting candidates for the curious the abandoned stations of the Parisian Metro are not for the meek but take heart; the ones shown here are the easiest of the bunch. In fact the first day I met the girlfriend's mother we took her into one of the stations and hid behind the control boxes as the trains whistled by. Oddly enough this approach was successful and I'm still with the girl, the mother even approves of our relationship. Whether it's the city of romance at work or that fine black metro dust which clings to everything and works its way into every nook and cranny I can't say but somehow, it's working.
Access varies by station but these are all within the realm of realism, no hollywood theatrics are needed here (they're coming later incidentally). One was entered right through the front door, just over the pools of hobo piss. The shiny and expensive Abloy door lock was locked shut but poorly placed bolts meant the whole double door could be gently pushed open from inside. Conveniently this station also comes with toilet facilities, something the hobo camped at the front door probably never realised.
These four stations, like most of the ghost stations, are covered in graffiti - an almost constant reminder that everywhere we were going have been crept through years before, by countless people on their own exploratory journys. However, there are places which appear almost untouched and in time we'll get to those.
Our first steps were slow and careful but by the end we were running live track in full service, alcove hopping as needed and leaping the 3rd like prize hurdlers. This, the Rinsing of the Paris Metro would be our biggest and longest running project.
