Rue des Hautes Bievres

“A cursed cafe?” you might ask, standing here on Rue des Hautes Bievres. Well, not exactly on Rue des Hautes Bievres, but just off it, on the nearby Rue de Bièvre. This quiet street, named after the Bièvre River, holds a curious tale. It runs from Boulevard Saint-Germain to Quai Montebello, and midway along, nestled between Maubert-Mutualité and the Seine, sits a small square. Beside it, at number 22 Rue de Bièvre, stands a house, once the private residence of President François Mitterrand. But our story takes us to number 1 bis Rue de Bièvre, a site marked by absence. There once stood a bustling inn, run by a man known as Père Hubert. His life ended mysteriously during World War II. Local lore whispers of a curse, cast upon Père Hubert by a Gypsy who frequented the inn. In 1943, tragedy struck again when the inn was destroyed, leaving behind only an empty plot. This “cursed” site remains vacant, a peculiar gap in this historic street lined with 17th-century private mansions. Johanne, a resident in a nearby apartment, notes the peculiarity of the vacant lot. She points out how the empty space seems to only attract female residents, suggesting a lingering unease. She believes the curse is real, a sentiment echoed in the neighborhood. The story goes that not only Père Hubert but also his heir met a tragic, violent end. The curse, it seems, was powerful enough to not only claim lives but also erase a physical space from the map. Today, number 1 bis remains empty, a stark contrast to the surrounding opulence where property values soar. It’s a silent testament to a local legend, a story whispered on Rue de Bièvre, casting a long shadow over this otherwise charming corner of Paris.