We were standing in line outside the Catacombs in Paris. It was early November, blustery and gray. Our fellow tourists were rowdy, feeling lucky. A sign outside the entrance noted that the popular attraction would be closing soon for several months. We'd be among the last visitors to get in. Only as I began descending a spiral staircase of 130 steps, past warnings for pregnant women and those with heart conditions, did I start to worry. Would we be among the last visitors to get out, too?

"You don't know what this is, do you?" my beau, Patrick, marveled as we spiraled downward. He was right. I had heard of the famous Catacombs but, frankly, had no idea what they were. I was quickly getting the picture. Suddenly we were single-file in a tunnel -- narrow, dark, dank. The ceiling was closing in. The gravel underneath our feet was damp. I couldn't turn back -- too many people behind me, including a group of big guys from Georgia exuding the energy of frat brothers. I closed my eyes. Breathe. Breathe. I kept walking, and wondering: Could this get any worse?

Mais, oui! But more on that in a moment.

Paris offers a spectacular array of delights to anyone willing to look up from his or her dreamy pain au chocolat. The Eiffel Tower, intricate gargoyles and breathtaking cathedral facades for starters. So I was surprised on a recent visit to discover that my favorite city offers a bounty of wonders to those willing to look downward, too.

Patrick and I had no intention of doing a Paris Underground tour. My selfish goal, frankly, was to show him sites off the beaten path because I'd already seen the big stuff many times.

It wasn't until we returned home that I realized just how many of our favorite experiences had been subterranean, from a lively jazz club to splashes of art at various Metro stops to a quietly powerful museum honoring World War II martyrs a stone's throw from Notre Dame Cathedral.

That's the beauty of Paris. Something new is always bubbling up.

And speaking of bubbling up, there we were at the Catacombs, and there I was, wondering why I had shelled out 5 euros to be reminded that I'm claustrophobic. My answer soon came. These weren't mere tunnels. These were tunnels leading to countless chambers of the most unusual art displays you could ever imagine: skulls and bones.

Turns out that from 1785 until the 1880s, these particular caves, in a massive Parisian underworld of former stone quarries, received bones from overflowing cemeteries -- bones of some 6 million citizens. That number is stunning enough. But it's what was done with the bones that kept me riveted for more than an hour. (That, and the fact that the ceilings did get a lot higher.)

Instead of bones being tossed into massive piles -- in which case the frat boys would have had to drug me and drag me out -- these were masterfully symmetrical, crafted into designs whimsical, wondrous and downright bizarre. Heart formations, crosses, arcs. Bones forming pillars, bones forming walls. One visitor later wrote that the meticulous care in the arrangement of the remains was, perhaps, "the workers' way of trying to give some dignity and beauty to the deceased."

Maybe you had to be there. Surprisingly, I'm glad I was. If you go, wear old hiking boots. And don't pack a lunch. The Catacomb Museum; 1 place Denfert-Rochereau; www.catacombes-de-paris.fr/english.htm

Jazz clubs On a far lighter note, we found people alive and well in many caves. One highlight was a cab ride to the Left Bank and another dramatic descent into the bowels of one of Paris' famous jazz clubs, Caveau de la Huchette, (recommended by our concierge). The joint was jumping, with American musicians playing swing, blues and jazz and the tiny dance floor packed with dancers of all skill and sobriety levels. At one point, a couple worthy of "Dancing With the Stars" took to the floor and everyone respectfully backed off to watch in joy. Prepare to sweat and bump uglies, or at least be offered the chance. Caveau de la Huchette; 5, Rue de la Huchette. For more jazz options, go to www.jazz-clubs-worldwide.com/docs/france.htm.

Le Metro Taking the subway isn't just cheap and practical. It's educational and entertaining, too. On the former front, you'll see what a multicultural city Paris is. You'll see how people dress and how cleverly they get their fresh produce home. You'll confirm that teenagers everywhere can do their literature homework no matter how bumpy or noisy their surroundings as long as their iPod is firmly attached. When the transportation workers go on strike, and they will, you'll get an education in just how hard it is to get a taxi.

Then there's the cultural experience. Many stops express their personalities with beautifully designed or playful signs. There are, for instance, art deco stops throughout Paris, including two original stations by architect Hector Guimard. One is at Place Dauphine, the other at Abesses, in Montmarte. A visitor from New York called the Metro stations "a revelation." Her faves: a rendition of "The Fall" at Bastille, Rodin replicas at Varenne and antiquities at the Louvre stop.

One more thing: There are always good musicians playing for peanuts as you rush down to catch your train. It's hard to part with those very expensive euros these days. Do it anyway. Metro stops: www.greatbuildings.com/buildings/Paris_Metro_Entrances.html

Memorial to the French Martyrs of the Deportation Sometimes, the smallest space speaks volumes. This museum is a spectacular example. Architect G.H. Pingusson created this underground monument in 1962 to honor the 200,000 French men, women and children deported to German concentration camps during World War II. Iron spikes blocking the view of the Seine set the mood, as does an inscription above the entrance: "Pardonne, n'oublie pas ... " "Forgive, don't forget."

Rooms are intentionally tiny and suffocating, with partial views of a lively Paris that those inside would never relive. One narrow passageway is lined with 200,000 quartz pebbles, a Jewish tradition recalling each person who died. Inscriptions by famous authors fill the interior walls. Exiting upward, it's hard not to feel grateful for the simple luxuries of sunlight and fresh air. Memorial to the French Martyrs of the Deportation; Square de l'ile de France. Free, limited hours, so call ahead or visit the website: www.paris.org/Monuments/Martyrs.Deportation/info.htm

The Chunnel One more thing. I had nightmares about taking the Chunnel rail tunnel connecting France and England. But after a quick visit to cousins in London, we did it anyway because it offered the best arrival time (no-frills European airliners can actually be cheaper, if you don't mind being herded like cattle). The train is sleek, modern, fast and fabulous. The best part: You're only, gasp, underwater, for 20 minutes and you won't even know it. Do pack a lunch or bring euros for the dining car. www.raileurope.com

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350