Pierre Adenis/GAFF/laif/Redux
My admiration possibly even love for theParismetro began in the winter of 1992.
At first, I would ride the metro to some museum or gallery.
Later, I rode the metro as an end in itself.
Art Nouveau signage outside a Paris métro station.Credit:Pierre Adenis/GAFF/laif/Redux
Well-known architects like Kengo Kuma are involved, and the stations promise to be both sleek and impressive.
But for me, nothing feels more Parisian than the old metro.
So on a recent Sunday afternoon, I took one of my favorite rides to nowhere.
The signatures of famous French writers and thinkers adorn the ceiling of the Cluny–La Sorbonne station.Soma/Alamy
I began at the Campo-Formio station, under the Boulevard de lHopital in the 13th Arrondissement.
Most of these, including the one at Campo-Formio, are surmounted by a pair of Art Nouveau lamps.
Soma/Alamy
I entered the station and followed signs saying direction bobigny on Line 5.
From left: A train crosses the Bir-Hakeim bridge; an entrance to the Place de la République station.From top: Agefotostock/Alamy; Annette Hauschild/Ostkreuz/Redux
We then departed through the opposite side and crossed the river.
I got off at Bastille and transferred to Line 1 (direction La Defense).
This is the glitziest in Paris, connecting many of the major tourist sites.
Some stops have been expensively ornamented, as one of the metro 20 or so cultural stations.
At Louvre-Rivoli, replica statues occupy platform alcoves; the light is reverentially low.
The accents are brown at ordinary through-stations, like Solferino, and green at junctions like Pasteur.
At Pasteur, I changed to Line 6 (direction Charles de GaulleEtoile).
The Eiffel Tower was immediately in view on the right.
(The Parisians were the ones not looking up from their phones.)
I alighted at the Passy station and looked back at the bridge.
It was nightfall and the antique-looking lanterns were illuminated.
And, all over Paris, the dragons eyes blazed red.
