Pere-Lachaise is just wonderful, a meandering, gothic fairyland of monuments grand and grotesque, and so vast you could spend days trying to orient yourself. It was established in the late 1700s, when the city’s graveyards were getting a bit full, and became ‘fashionable’ once the remains of Moliere and La Fontaine were deployed as bait. The graves are sold with varying degrees of permanence, from 10-year leases to perpetuity; there are lots of non-famous people interred here, but also hundreds of famous writers, composers, statesmen, actors and aristocrats. Apart from Jim Morrison’s grave, which is now patrolled to prevent acts of bad taste, the ones that provoke the most excitement are those of Oscar Wilde, Marcel Proust and one Victor Noir, whose prominently groined likeness has achieved shiny fertility-object status. Good luck trying to find any of them – maps are on sale at the main entrance (weekdays only).