We took the Metro almost everywhere. It was clean, quick and easy to navigate. So, from Butte-aux-Cailles we made our way on the underground to Montmartre, with our first destination that of the cemetery. Generally, I find many interesting stories and monuments in those places and this cemetery was no exception but, at the same time, it had its own peculiarities. First and foremost, it was underneath a major street (Rue Caulaincourt) or should I say they (the authorities, whoever they may be) built Rue Caulaincourt over it. I’m sure the cemetery was there first.
The cemetery spans a great deal of space, approximately 25 acres, and is the third largest cemetery in Paris. We only wandered through a small portion of it. It is the final resting place for many famous people, including Edgar Degas, Alexandre Dumas, Jeanne Moreau, Emile Zola and many others.
I believe cemetaries have lovely sculptures on the grave sites and that frequently they are dramatic and inspiring. I was somewhat disappointed in the part we visited but I’ll let you be the judge. What follows are some photos I took as we strolled along.
The first photo is as we were approaching, walking down Rue Caulaincourt, from the roadway overpass. Note the girder on the lower right corner of the photo. Everything appears to be spread out in a haphazard fashion but once we entered and started strolling through the cemetery it all seemed well laid out.
The pictures, starting with this one, that appears to be a blue-grey monument, are presented much in the same order as we came upon them.
This tomb, to the memory of Guy Pitchal, who ever he may have been, was eerie as the eyes in the sculpture seemed to follow us as we moved along.
This was undoubtedly the most elaborate and a frequently visited grave site. Note the numerous fresh flowers. It memorizes Dalida, a famous and popular Parisian songbird, who passed away on May 3, 1987 and was a top-selling recording artist in France between 1957 and 1961.
We stumbled across this grave site which I found very photogenic. It’s, as you can see, under the roadway. What a setting.
How ’bout a close up? She looks sad and mournful as she spreads her flowers.
Ivy grows under the roadway.
A walk down the lane. Don’t the memories come rushing back as we look inward and, at the same time, ponder the lives that once walked the streets of Paris?
Some things stay hidden, perhaps forever.
On our way out, one more interesting sculpture?
Making our way up the hill to the artists of Montmontre. And, I mean up a hill. It’s a lot easier going down.
And now the artists.
On the way downhill.
Tomorrow we visit Notre Dame.