The Métro entrance in the Jardins des Tuileries.
Paris Métro Etiquette
Paris Kiosque - September 2000 - Volume 7, Number 9
Copyright (c) 2000 Paul Jensi - Used with permission.
In August, a Paris subway car fell over on its side and slid to a stop just
three feet from an oncoming train. In commemoration of this
once-in-a-blue-moon accident and the traditional August fare increase, here
is a crash course in Métro Etiquette.
Lesson 1: The Law of Silence
One of the customs tourists understand least is the unwritten (and unspoken)
Code of Silence that takes effect from the moment you descend into the
Underground. Despite the fact that you will never be closer to so many people
at one time ever again in your life, any and all contact with your
co-traveler's is forbidden. (Imagine the cast of Day of the Dead at a Rave).
Looking someone directly in the eyes is a vampire / crucifix thing and
actually speaking to someone is like farting at a funeral. In the Métro act
as though you're in someone else's bathroom-- reading is acceptable but
anything beyond that is deviant.
Lesson 2: Reading
Remember that the Métro is the city's largest public library. Any and all
literature you bring on the train is considered public reading material.
Rather than snub the person reading over your shoulder, seize the moment to
determine if their reading material is more interesting than yours and ask
them what they think of your choice. Note: bring
The Story of O
at your own risk. Although it may help to break the ice...
Lesson 3: Seating
Seating is a pain. A conscientious voyager never fights for a seat
if the journey is for three stations or less. If you're going anywhere from
three to seven stops, you have the right to take an outside seat and if
you're in it for the long haul, you're permitted to go for the inside seat.
(If you can get it away from the sleeping people or the troubled young man with
the look of a wanted poster). You can sit on the strapontins (folding chairs)
whenever you like, but if you want to avoid dirty looks and the fat guy who's
stepping on your toes, you'll be more comfortable standing when the car gets
crowded.
Lesson 4: Pickpockets
Paris is a socialist country which, as everyone knows, is only one step away
from the communist menace. There are some political activists who will try to
liberate your wallet or pocketbook and they seem to hold regular meetings in
the Métro. So keep your hand on your butt (or wherever it is you keep your
money) -- that way you can have a good day even if you are robbed. The Métro
is a den of iniquity when it comes to pickpockets. I've been ripped off twice
(so far) so: Get Paranoid.
Lesson 5: Beggars
While I often buy magazines from the unemployed, never give money to the
beggars or the accordionists, you'll only encourage them. For those of you
who don't speak French, beggars all say the same thing: Ladies and gentlemen,
I know I'm not the first or last to ask you for money, but I don't really
care. Just give it to me. No luncheon vouchers or metro tickets-I ask for
them to sound desperate but I don't really want or use them. Now, to further
embarrass you, I'll sing a song from my country. [Sound of pig being neutered
by near sighted dyslectic.]
Lesson 6:No Place (Like Home)
The Métro is more than just another public transportation system: For many it
is Home Sweet Home. I myself am tempted to give up everything I own (yes,
both of them) I have and move into my favorite, rent-free station. All of the
basic necessities are to be found there. I'd listen to live music provided by
wandering minstrels, watch video surveillance tv's, read newspapers donated
by the public, eat discarded leftovers and party with my roommates: those who
spend all day drinking tallboys and 8 franc a liter wine. Of course I'd have
to give up sex and my other hobbies... If I missed working, however, I could
always ask people for change and besides, just think how quick I would get
home.
Lesson 7: Enjoy the Ride
For many, Paris is a museum of museums but she is actually an art gallery
herself, populated with the most beautiful ladies in the world. Taking the
Métro is like visiting an exhibition of treasures where the oeuvres are
alive, where art breathes, where each piece is unique and irreplaceable. In
the Underground waits a fine arts museum where Levis is my favorite sculptor
and the eyes of the masterpieces follow me wherever I go, or not, depending
on how lucky I am. Yet, as with traditional art, the intrigue is in the
secrets guarded behind the facade, for most of the women are like symbols too
deep for me to understand.
In 1990 Paul quit his job in the United States and sold everything
he had in exchange for a one-way ticket to Europe and a train pass. Figuring
he would ride the rails until his money ran out, he voyaged through most
European capitals before marrying the first French girl he met and moving to
Paris in November of that year. Since then he published 123 articles and
posted 192 of his photographs during his one-year tenure as Chief English
writer at AOL France's Digital Paris Web site. His current goal of
walking on every street in the city has revealed not only the importance of
comfortable footwear but also the splendor of the city he calls his own
(despite copyright infringement laws). He is currently working on ``Paris
Misguided'', an unguide that will help him spread that love around.
He can be contacted via
PJensi@aol.com.
Paris Museum Pass