Handpicked experience · Paris
Paris, FranceInstant Confirmation
The dance the Moulin Rouge is famous for was once policed as indecency, and the hall you sit in is a rebuild after the fire of 1915.
The monuments seen lit rather than in daylight
A revue in the hall that gave the dance its reputation
A glass raised before the curtain
Ten narration languages selected at your seat
An escort handling both halves of the evening
An evening in Paris in two halves: a panoramic drive past the lit monuments with recorded commentary, then a seat at the Moulin Rouge for the Féerie revue with a glass of champagne.
The can-can did not begin as an entertainment for visitors. It grew out of working-class dance halls in the 1830s, where it was called the chahut, and it was danced by men as well as women. The high kick and the split were improvisations, not choreography.
Authorities treated it as indecency. Dancers were named in police reports and some were arrested; the objection was less the kick than what the kick revealed at a time when what women wore underneath was not meant to be seen in public. The dance carried a whiff of the illicit for decades before it became respectable.
By the time the Moulin Rouge opened in 1889 — the same year as the Exposition Universelle and the tower built for it — the dance had a following, and Toulouse-Lautrec's posters of its performers turned individual dancers into names people knew. What is now a polished revue was, within living memory of its founders, something the authorities wanted stopped.
Fire gutted the hall in 1915 and it did not reopen until 1921. What you sit in is the rebuild.
The windmill on the roof has never milled anything. It is a sign, though not an arbitrary one: Montmartre was a hill of working windmills before the city swallowed it, and a handful of the real ones still stand a few streets away.
Pick-up at the start is not part of this. You make your own way to the departure point, and the hostess meets you there.
The cloakroom at the Moulin Rouge is compulsory and settled by you on the night — bags and coats do not go into the room.
Drop-off afterwards is at a central point rather than at your door: the Opéra, the Champs-Élysées, Montparnasse or Bastille, whichever suits.
The drive is panoramic. You stay aboard and see the monuments through glass, which is the point on a cold night but worth knowing if you were expecting to walk.
The room is dressed up rather than formal. No jeans or trainers is the usual expectation.
Same route either way — the difference is who else is in the vehicle. Open one to see its dates and work out the price.
What the fare covers, and what to budget for separately.
The practical detail, and the answers people actually ask for.
Working-class dance halls of the 1830s, where it went by the name chahut.
No — men danced it too in its early decades.
It was treated as indecency; some dancers were named in reports and a few arrested.
Its first season was 1889, timed to a summer when the Exposition Universelle was drawing enormous crowds to the city.
Toulouse-Lautrec, whose posters turned individual performers into recognised names.
The interior you sit in dates from the rebuilding of the early 1920s rather than from the founders' decade.
It never has. Montmartre did have real working mills, and a few survive nearby.
Dressed up rather than formal — jeans and trainers are the usual exclusions.