Would You Rather . . . Spend the Night With Skeletons or Snakes?

In a small building on a busy street in Paris, France, there is a long, winding staircase. It leads deep underground to a massive network of tunnels—all packed with human bones. Welcome to the Paris Catacombs. “When you descend into the Catacombs, you are enveloped in silence,” says Erin-Marie Legacey, a historian from Texas Tech University. To enter, you must pass through a doorway engraved with the warning “Stop! This is the empire of death!” 

These dark, cramped corridors were once medieval quarries from which stone was mined. They sat empty for centuries, until the late 1700s. Around that time, Paris was facing a problem: The city’s ancient cemeteries were overflowing with bodies. In 1780, the government began shutting down and emptying graveyards across the city. Because the graves were so old, the bodies they contained had decomposed. All that remained were bones, which don’t easily break down over time. The government decided to move the bones into the quarries beneath Paris. This transformed the tunnels into underground burial chambers—also known as catacombs.

Soon the bones of around 6 million people had been carted underground and left in disorderly heaps. Then, in 1809, city engineers decided to start organizing the bones into neat stacks and arranging the skulls into intricate patterns like hearts and circles.

Today people can visit the Paris Catacombs and see the bone-lined tunnels for themselves. “When I go into the Catacombs, I’m awestruck by the feeling of being surrounded by the past,” says Legacey. “You don’t usually get to come face-to-face with the remains of people who lived hundreds of years ago.” 

A small building stands on a busy street in Paris, France. Inside, a long staircase winds deep underground. It leads to a massive network of tunnels. All of them are packed with human bones. Welcome to the Paris Catacombs. “When you descend into the Catacombs, you are enveloped in silence,” says Erin-Marie Legacey. She’s a historian from Texas Tech University. To enter, you must pass through a doorway. It’s engraved with the warning “Stop! This is the empire of death!” 

These dark, cramped tunnels were once medieval quarries. Stone was mined there. The tunnels sat empty for centuries, until the late 1700s. Around that time, Paris faced a problem. The city’s ancient cemeteries were overflowing with bodies. In 1780, the government began shutting down graveyards across the city. Workers emptied the graves. But the graves were very old, and bodies had decomposed. Only bones remained, because they don’t easily break down over time. The government moved the bones into the quarries beneath Paris. This turned the tunnels into underground burial chambers. They’re also known as catacombs.

Soon, workers had carried the bones of around 6 million people underground. They left the bones in disorderly heaps. In 1809, city engineers started organizing the bones into neat stacks. They arranged the skulls into complex patterns like hearts and circles.

Today, people can visit the Paris Catacombs. They can see the bone-lined tunnels for themselves. “When I go into the Catacombs, I’m awestruck by the feeling of being surrounded by the past,” says Legacey. “You don’t usually get to come face-to-face with the remains of people who lived hundreds of years ago.” 

About 33 kilometers (21 miles) off the southeastern coast of Brazil lies Ilha da Queimada Grande. As soon as you set foot on this island’s rocky shores, you’ll quickly spot its famed inhabitants curled up in the trees or slithering across the ground. Queimada Grande is home to thousands of snakes—including about 3,000 golden lancehead pit vipers (Bothrops insularis). These venomous snakes are endemic to, or only found on, Queimada Grande.

Today the tiny island is strictly off-limits. This helps to protect both people and the rare snakes that live there. Only scientists can travel to the island, with permission from the Brazilian government. One of those scientists is Marcelo Ribeiro Duarte, a herpetologist at the Butantan Institute in Brazil.

Duarte has visited Queimada Grande about 30 times to study its snakes. He always takes precautions, like wearing thick coverings on his legs to protect against bites. Also, “you must be very careful where you sit or place your hands,” says Duarte. “The only way to be safe is to always keep your eyes open.” Thankfully, golden lanceheads are easy to spot. “Unlike other pit vipers on [South America’s] mainland, adult golden lanceheads have no natural predators,” says Duarte. So the snakes have no reason to hide.

During expeditions, Duarte and his fellow scientists camp on the tropical island for up to a week. While there, they make sure to follow one very important rule: “Always close the tent zipper,” says Duarte. That helps keep out any unwanted, slithery visitors.

An island lies about 33 kilometers (21 miles) off the southeastern coast of Brazil. It’s called Ilha da Queimada Grande. When you step onto its rocky shores, you’ll quickly spot its famous residents. They’re curled up in the trees or slithering across the ground. Thousands of snakes live on Queimada Grande. They include about 3,000 golden lancehead pit vipers (Bothrops insularis). These venomous snakes are endemic to Queimada Grande. It’s the only place they’re found.

The tiny island is strictly off-limits. This helps to protect people and the island’s rare snakes. Only scientists can travel there. But they need permission from the Brazilian government. One of those scientists is Marcelo Ribeiro Duarte. He’s a herpetologist at the Butantan Institute in Brazil.

Duarte has visited Queimada Grande about 30 times to study its snakes. He always takes precautions. For example, he wears thick coverings on his legs. That protects him against bites. Also, “you must be very careful where you sit or place your hands,” says Duarte. “The only way to be safe is to always keep your eyes open.” Thankfully, golden lanceheads are easy to spot. “Unlike other pit vipers on [South America’s] mainland, adult golden lanceheads have no natural predators,” says Duarte. So the snakes don’t need to hide.

During expeditions, Duarte and his fellow scientists camp on the tropical island. They stay for up to a week. And they make sure to follow one very important rule. “Always close the tent zipper,” says Duarte. That helps keep out any unwanted slithery visitors.