From the public bench on Place Dalida, just behind the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, one can witness a peculiar spectacle at any time of day. Dozens of Spanish, Indian, Chinese and American tourists line up to pose next to the statue of the singer Dalida. Not just any pose: Each holds her breasts. The gesture is unusual and the faces are laughing, as stroking Dalida's chest is said to bring good luck in love.

On Rue de l'Abreuvoir, the same lines of tourists form – this time, to snap a photo in front of La Maison Rose, a café featured in the American series Emily in Paris. Further down, on Rue des Trois-Frères, another queue blocks a narrow sidewalk: It's for the vintage photo booth, a social media sensation.

Welcome to photogenic Montmartre, with its hidden gardens, windmills, vineyard, funicular, street artists – and millions of visitors from around the globe. In this neighborhood where ice cream, crêpe and miniature Eiffel Tower vendors thrive, even the traffic seems orchestrated by Disneyland. Sidecars, 2CVs, Méharis and tuk-tuks crisscross the Butte for a few dozen euros per person, crossing paths with tourist trains – there are five in total.

But in recent months, a fracture has appeared in this fairy-tale setting. In this neighborhood of 27,000 residents, banners have popped up in windows: "Residents forgotten!"; "Let Montmartre residents live"; "Behind these facades, there are people." School buildings display signs: "No to class closures!" Street signs announcing pedestrianization have been spray-painted with "Stop." In just a few months, overtourism in Montmartre has become a political issue, taken up by residents' associations, business owners and elected officials from across the political spectrum.

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