Your night, stop by stop
Into the catacombs
We descend into the bone-lined tunnels under Denfert-Rochereau. Twenty meters down, six million Parisians, one very strange first hour together.
Oysters at the counter
We come back up hungry and order a dozen oysters with muscadet at a zinc counter in the 14th. Cold, briny, alive on purpose.
The speakeasy upstairs
We finish the night with cocktails in a dim room behind an unmarked door. Whisper the password, take the small staircase up.