A view of the curtains of the roof of an art deco building 37 street of the Louvre. This building was built in 1934 by the architect Fernand Leroy and Jacques Cury to accommodate both newspapers Paris-Midi and Paris-Soir. Five years later, two million newspapers are coming out of the printing press in the basement of the building. The construction, modern, is fully planned for the implementation of newspapers. There is even a big diesel engine provided electricity in case of power failure. The upper floors are the most beautiful terraces where guests are received in peace, enjoying the magnificent view.
But like any business in the world war two who worked with german army, management changes hands for the release and communists newspapers took in commands: Ce Soir, Liberation, National Front (far left a newspaper) and humankind. Later Dawn and the Figaro will merge in 1985. It is said that some nights where humanity and the Figaro had printed, we brushed the confusion of pages.
This ship (as some people called the building) has been completely renovated from 2007 to 2008 and was included in the supplementary inventory of historical monuments. Some renovations are debatable but you can not stop progress.

One of the many leaflets Claustrophile long to read.

I feel lonely. Sitting on the edge of a puddle, waiting night after night came from an image, even furtive, which will warm my frozen heart. Boredom is deadly but I am perhaps more myself.
I do not control my movements. It seems I am doomed to remain motionless near the puddle. I can sit there, going to bed at the top in every sense, to slip under the surface. But I can not go away. Several weeks have passed already, maybe more. I lost track of time. I also lost touch and smell.

It all began one evening in July, right here. I rode north through here. I walked into the puddle and I did not immediately understood what was abnormal about it opposed the reaction to my muddy boots. In retracing my steps that I understood, without understanding anything beyond. The water that I had defiled was perfectly clear! I did another test, stirring the surface with my dirty soles. But water does not disturb and do not wash my boot. Worse, it penetrated the boot but no step had resulted. I started to jump in with both feet, there was no splash. I thought mad.
I think when I last had committed error in allowing my curiosity until that train was going to lose. I squatted and I plunged his hand into the water. I could see through transparency, I felt the cold touch and wet. But the water do not wobble. If I was raising in my palm and I let her run, she immediately incorporated the puddle remained perfectly motionless. I was scared.
But after a few minutes I emerged reflects a man who looked at me. I was scared to see it without having heard it, but it was nothing of the horror that awaited me next. Because when I turned around there was nobody behind me. This man existed only in reflection. And only in this puddle. I saw him once. It was already too late.
I was terrified. The stranger in the mirror and spoke agitated, as if trying to tell me something. But he remained silent to my ears. I panicked. I wanted to run but I was so scared I did not notice the sky of the quarry. I myself am hit with unprecedented violence. I think the shock was fatal.
Where I felt back up, I saw myself lying with his head in a puddle of blood flowing to the puddle of water. But when I looked at the puddle that is me that I could not see. I had no reflection.
The body was lying nearby was finally identified but it was not mine wearing my clothing and my backpack.
It was the man I saw in the reflection! He set off again in flesh and blood, for me, leaving me alone and trapped in my fate! I could not even follow him, as if the puddle of water had been magnetized. Since I am still waiting in the darkness, someone realizes that the puddle is still ...

Maybe you than I expected. You who picked up this pamphlet, a little better scans the surface of the water ...

This corridor is almost completely around one of the last level gave me the solution to the legend that surrounds the courthouse in Brussels. Indeed, the legend says there are so many rooms that nobody really knows the number. It would suffice to count them you say? Certainly, but the legend also says that some rooms are hidden! And it's true! This corridor will lead to narrowing to a dead end. But shortly before, once a straight line (since it is the turn of the last square base, so that makes 4 times) there is a steep staircase, added a bit anyway, which is sometimes blocked the passage a pipeline. This staircase leads into empty rooms mysteriously seem to have been recently refurbished (light, electrical outlets). Impossible to know what they were good or what they will be used, it is already difficult to access with empty hands, imagine the trouble we have to make a table! No other access to these rooms, no windows.

First steps in quarry until his last run, each cataphile notes an improvement in his behavior in the undergrounds. The route passes through several phases where his attitude toward the place, other individuals and especially in relation to itself will evolve.

Step 1: The disease of quarries.

It starts with a proposed descent. Through a friend or media, the neophyte becomes aware of the existence of a city under the city. Torn between the desire for exoticism and fear of the unknown, he went to the rendez-vous. In front of a bar or in front a subway, a diverse group waiting for him. They have all worn and dirty uniforms, each carrying packs of beer in hand, the other monstrous sacks on their shoulders. During the walk to the quarry, the main game is to scare again, both by sadism but also to test it and avoid it falters once inside.

Because everyone knows the strange disease that threatens the neophyte: The disease of quarries. As one who fears seasick when he sets foot on a boat, the apprentice will distressed by the entrance of the cave. Only after twenty meters underground to think he tons of rocks that overlook and threaten. Add to that the narrowness of the galleries, the disorientation and the inability to find the exit in this hellish labyrinth and you get a malaise that will fade with the times. At the exit, greatly relieved to be whole, the beginner will be happy to have survived such an adventure. Most will never return and not deviate from the quarry. Some however will want to repeat the experience and come away with the attack of subterranean depths.

Step 2: Thirst discovery.

Finally, the long-awaited map is formally placed in the hands trembling with emotion of the beginners. The first explorations where the latter takes the responsibility for guiding difficult: The errors and half-turns are frequent. Few were self-taught in this area, learning to move in an underground quarry is not obvious. But the excitement of discovering a new world is huge: There are so many things to see that often runs beyond the required time. At this stage, the cataphile often integrates a group of friends who will evolve. This is the beginning for some the desire to be recognized by his peers.