We have a beautiful entry way into our apartment.  There are two sets of codes to get into the building itself.

And an ornate wooden lift to whisk us to the 4^th floor.

Along with a wide winding carpeted staircase. 

There is a hushed air throughout – all the way to our massive front door and elegant foyer.

But we noticed this plain door in the kitchen. 

Our greeter had not mentioned it, and it was bolted no less than 5 times!

So I figured it was off limits – many rental units have a closet for the owner’s belongings. 

I thought no more about it . . . until I heard footsteps behind it.

I quietly crept to the door for a better listen and noticed a peephole.  To my surprise, a man was on the other side opening a door across a little hallway!  There must be apartments in the back of this building, too, maybe not as nice since it looked very plain out there.  I was suddenly thankful for the 5 deadbolts.

But then, we had the conundrum of where to take the trash.  I texted the greeter.  Oh – he said – forgot to tell you – there are special keys for the door in the kitchen.  What?  You go out that door and bring the trash to RC.  (RC is the bottom floor – we aren’t sure what it stands for.  Also, in Europe, the bottom floor is 0 – the next floor up is 1.) 

Frank and I finally found the keys and figured out how to unlock all those deadbolts.  It is another world on the other side.  A narrow steep staircase with no carpet, grey doors, and a little functional elevator disguised as a closet.

Our apartment came with a cleaning mid-visit. And wouldn’t you know, our housekeeper magically appeared through this entrance – and disappeared without a word, too! We think there must be a rule that service people must use the back stairs, like Downton Abbey.

Between the back staircase and the courtyard windows (see prior blog), it is a tiny bit spooky.  Probably because I am still reading the murder mystery, which is really good – called “The Paris Apartment.”  So every time we take the trash, one of us stays in the apartment to keep a look-out and make sure the other one gets back in – and we both have our phones on.  We don’t know exactly where these back stairs lead!  Our Paris adventure.