Buckle up, this is a big one. I’ve been forgetting to charge it, so this placeholder half lap will do.

Until last week, I didn’t really know what the catacombs were. I mentioned it to my roommate and he’s like “there’s bones down there”, and so I started to realize it wasn’t fully an underground museum. I don’t know if anything could have prepared me for what it really was. At one point, I was up to my upper thighs in muddy water with my back pressed against the ceiling. At another point we were crawling through a slot. This all made the bones seem quite harmless.

That night was a busy night for the catacombs, because there was a party in one of the big caverns. While waiting for our friends to show up, the number of people decending into the sidewalk far outpaced the numbers into the train station. After a few hours of exploration, we made our way to the party, which felt far too normal for the situation and looked eerily similar to the Tufts sailing frat basement.

The following day, we did some morning bike repair with a classy tree stand, then made our way to Paris’ equivalent to Central Park. They take the road biking quite seriously here, however they also seem to have enough of a sense of humor. A Brompton rides by us, hanging on to the back of a group of road bikes, calling “allez, allez!” and motioning for us to follow behind. After wiping myself out on what was more genetically similar to a motorcycle than a cervelo, I resigned myself to taking pictures of people going by.

As we’re about to leave, a guy asked if I had an Instagram where he could see if I had posted a photo of him. I had to inform him that I have no such organization, however I would be happy to stage a shot.

Then tonight, I went up a big hill with my tgtg and took some pics

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