For years, every time I walked up Rue Monge I thought I was walking down Rue Monge. Every time I thought I was headed to Rue Mouffetard and the Seine, I would be going toward Place d’Italie.
I think it is because I assumed that the land would be rising as you went away from the Seine and descending as you went toward the Seine . . logical, but wrong. Paris is built on hills which are masked by thousands of years of human tinkering. A little tinker every five or ten years means the place is indistinguishable in 2000 years.
It’s nice, every now and then, to try and see the landscape for what it was thousands of years ago.
Just off of the Rue Monge, when Paris was called Lutece and the Romans conquered the city, there was an arena for gladiators, with stands for the spectators, and ample room for the communication of community information from the Roman government. It was a majestic focal point for Lutece.
Now, through a small passageway, next to a comic-book store, you can access the remains of the arena.
Now, people eat their lunches where warriors, slaves, and animals died. You can walk on the stone benches that remain or play soccer with the youth in the sand arena.
You can rest and read a book . . . and think about how this wonderful place came to be.