"All trains on this line are being held due to a suspicious bag on the platforms at station Baguette", said the announcer at station Fromage. These things happen, so the commuters milling around on the platforms looked only a little annoyed and the driver of the halted train kicked back to relax while he waited for the proclamation of a false alarm and could get back to business. He looked a little bored.

Photo: snappel

I knew all these things because qx was lying face down on the ballast, peeking around the corner at the platforms from out small junction with a side tunnel, relaying all that was occurring. Not great news of the day as station Baguette, with its supposed 'suspicious baggage', was 100m to our left down the main tunnel. After some time of more thumb twiddling we evacuated the area. Arriving at our present location we'd passed below two tunnel cameras already, if indeed there was a bomb we'd be on tape wandering the nearby tunnels carrying backpacks. Further investigation by say, shutting the system and checking the tunnels seemed unlikely but common sense suggests kicking around the system near an area under suspicions of terrorist activity was diametrically opposing our aims no matter how it was sliced. We legged it.



Down our raccord tunnel we went, away from station Baguette, station Fromage and indeed the whole of Ligne Religeuse Chocolat, to intercept Ligne Pomplemous in a delicious four way junction north of station Nom de Chien. Station NDC was our reason for the jaunt in fact, Hount was keen to visit the abandoned platforms there. We didn't have any luck though. However luck was slightly back on our side, as Ligne Pomplemous was still running so we waited for a gap and ran for it.



Running mid-service is about as balls to the wall as regular metro exploration gets. If you're a writer with some nuts you probably know the feeling well. Most however have never stepped foot in a live metro system so perhaps I'll explain how this works. We estimated the nearest station was 3-400 metres away. Trains come every ~3 minutes in both directions, if they pass in synchronicity one has pretty well a full window, if not then you have 90 seconds to be safe, less since you don't want to be seen. With each passing train one secrets themselves inside an alcove, the shallow recesses built into the tunnel wall to afford protection from death by crushing blow courtesy of le train. It's advised to stand on the 'upstream' side of the alcove, minimising the driver's chance of spotting you.

Some alcoves contain fluorescent lights, twist the bulb a fraction and turn it off while you're hidden. One should take particular attention to covering one's glowing smiling face. Those who've been down a few hours will find their inevitable black tiger stripes of metro cred will suffice, else crouch down and use a backpack. Three or four people crammed into an alcove can be a real cuddle party and if you're so inclined use the opportunity to frotte the person beside you, grind in tight against some sweaty, dirty men. If you're running metro with cute jailbait, all the better.



As the train(s) pass, leap up and stride down the gap between the tunnel wall and the third rail. The gap is often small, about half a metre wide. This isn't the olympics so nobody expects gazelle like speed and grace, the uneven rocky metro ballast will see to that. Ideally the front runner watches ahead for trains, the last watches behind and if you've a third they can count how long you've been running for. It's also prudent to watch for electrical boxes and the like protruding from the walls which require one to duck and weave while still avoid the third rail beside your knee. Knocking oneself unconscious, falling on the juicer and being pulped will crimp your day. Faites attention! With each alcove assess the situation, consider how far it is to the next (if you're lucky enough to to see the damn thing) and decide whether to stop and wait or cast those fucking dice again and keep going.



Between most stations one will encounter the large ventilation shafts who also provide emergency egress from the system but unfortunately they're mostly locked tight with evil Abloy trickery. Sigh a little for effect and just keep on running. You can't stop there, Time's a wastin, train's a comin!