On a trip to New York a couple of years ago I read an article in the New York Times that proclaimed: "Amelie's Paris doesn't exist". I remember feeling slightly disgruntled by this at the time, but, this evening, after viewing the film again I vehmently disagree. I had been hankering after seeing this film again for the last couple of weeks as I am missing Paris desperately. I was just about to order the film on Amazon (which, to be honest, I'll probably still do) when an advert flashed up that it was to be playing tonight! I love moments like that.
You see, to my mind, Amelie's Paris may not exist in the eyes of tourists that arrive hoping to be transported straight in to a parralel universe, however, it exists in the smell of bread wafting from the boulangerie, from sitting at a metro station and an old man turning to you and saying, with all the sincerity in the world, "you're magical, be my valentine?", and finally; the way that the city envelopes you completely and allows your mind to run away and create your own version of a fairytale.
Back to my reality, momentarily. The weekend was chilled. Lots of reading, walking around St James Park, cooking and hanging out with M. All is still well in the land of love. Yay to that!
Time for bed. Contented yawn.