Eden - a film in which the garage music speaks louder & longer than the characters (QFT 24-30 July)

Eden is a French tribute to the Paris garage music scene. Spread over a narrative arc of nearly 20 years, Mia Hansen-Løve’s film follows wannabe DJ Paul Vallée (played by Félix de Givry) as he trips his way through underground club nights with his French Touch.

Paul and the less-committed cartoonist Cyril (Roman Kolinka) form Cheers, “the garage duo that everyone’s talking about”, while friends Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo (Arnaud Azoulay) and Thomas Bangalter (Vincent Lacoste) establish Daft Punk.

Every fifteen minutes or so Eden jumps forward another two or three years. Duos don’t last forever, and not everyone in the tight-knit posse survives the pace. The music allows Paul to climb the steps up to DJ booths in New York before descending back to Paris as he snorts his way in and out of love with Louise (Pauline Etienne) and eventually lands back in his mother’s apartment with debts, drugs and the knowledge that his dream is dying, if not dead.

The minimal script and unhurried plot let the music speak louder and longer than any of the characters. At least half of Eden’s scenes are based in clubs, and for a film whose soundtrack turned into a rights licensing nightmare that delayed production for years, the sound level in the cinema is pleasant and not at all overpowering. While surround sound is used effectively during an airport scene, the music is kept front and centre, and your heart beat won’t rise along with the beats per minute on-screen.

For some, the sounds and story of Eden will bring back strong memories. I should confess that I’m firmly in the category where ‘garage’ is the home of step ladders and old paint pots, so the significance of the French music scene was lost on me. In fact, the film brought back awful memories of spending a night, some 20 years ago, leaning against the wall in the Hollywood nightclub in Ipswich.

Over two hours, the clipboards holding club guest lists turn into iPads, record decks become more modern and are eventually joined by Mac laptops and female DJs, Francs are replaced with Euros, and the crowds queuing up to hear Cheers dwindle while austerity ratchets up the banks’ discomfort with debt and the cost of a cocaine-fuelled lifestyle. There’s a very human story behind the electronic music.

Eden rolls from exhilaration to depression as Paul faces up to tough choices about his passions and creativity. If you know your techno from your electro and your modern disco, then head down to the Queens Film Theatre to catch a screening of Eden between Friday 24 and Thursday 30 July.

Paris with Children (Kim Horton Levesque): a great guide to help plan a visit

Not long back from a week’s holiday in Paris, I recommend the pocket-sized book Paris with Children as a source of child-friendly tips and trips for folk visiting France’s capital city en famille. (I also recommend comfortable shoes, and picking up an up-to-date RER/Metro/Bus map on arrival!)

Covering the topics of Play, Eat, Shop and Stay, neighbouring attractions are grouped together to make it possible to pick out a set of complementary activities for a day that won’t involve haring across the Paris on a fourteen stop two interchange adventure in-between.

So a visit to see the impressionist paintings (and the stunning clocks) in Musée d'Orsay can be followed by a very worthwhile trip to Musée des Égouts de Paris (the Paris Sewers) and a chance to buy a soft and cuddly toy rat at the gift shop!

Opening times, website details and indicative prices at the time of printing are included along with the background to Parisian customs and culture. Worth remembering that smaller less-tourist-oriented shops will be closed for a week or two in August when the staff go on holiday.

Our copy of Kim Horton Levesque’s guide – produced along with her three research assistants (aged 2, 4 and 6) – is littered with post-it notes marking those attractions that caught the attention of different family members in the run up to our departure.

And while we didn’t stick rigidly to the plan we drew up beforehand, it was a great way to wake up each morning and not have to spend too long negotiating the day’s itinerary.

As time permits, I’ll blog a little about some of the places we enjoyed visiting and my experience of not bringing a proper camera and relying instead on an iPod Touch. In the meantime Paris with Children retails for £12.99 (currently reduced to £9 on Amazon).

If you're visiting with kids, bring this book ... and read it beforehand!

Je suis pantouflard

The French have a word for me. Someone who wants to stay at home with their slippers on all day. A homebird.

Je suis pantoufflard pantouflard. Et vous?

Update: Thanks to Declan for spotting the spell faux pas.

La Tour Eiffel

When visiting Paris, it's hard to resist the draw of another visit to the Eiffel Tower. Play word association with any child that's into their books and "Paris?" will get a response of "Eiffel Tower", much as "Dinosaur?" would get "Barney". Littl'un recognised the towering iron structure without any prompting as it appeared out of nowhere between a couple of trees. But to my surprise - and slight relief - she had no desire to go up to the top. Sitting in her push chair, she leant back and took in the view from the ground. And then scoffed a strawberry-flavoured ice cream while hundreds of tourists and school groups milled around the base.

But while the shape of the tower is instantly recognisable, for me its beauty and fascination is in the detail of the iron work, the girders and mesh that keep it safe in the air.

And every time I see it, my mind casts back to a 1970s film starring Roger Moore that invoved a terrorist group taking over the tower - can't figure out the name, and I could be wrong about the details, but I remember lasers and a beginning set in a training camp up in the far north of Scotland. But perhaps the best photographs I have of the Eiffel Tower are from a previous visit in March 2003, like the one below.

Driving on the small side ... Non! Je dit "reverse"

Driving back home from the Belfast International yesterday afternoon, we were pottering through Templepatrick when I noticed lots of brands (marks?) of cars that I hadn’t seen all week in France.

The French are probably a combination of practical and parochial. They like small cars, and they like French cars (extending the cheque book of friendship across to the odd Italian import).

• No SUVs. No Land Rovers. No big jeeps. Can’t remember seeing a 4x4 all week.
• Plenty of Espace-type people carriers, but nothing outrageously oversized.
• Instead lots of Twingos (old and new models), Peugeot 107s, Citron C1 and C2s, a surprising number of Minis, and quite a few Smart cars around Paris.
• The only Ford models on the road were the odd Fiesta, Ka and a single Focus.
• Very few Mercedes or BMW - though Volkswagen Polos and Golfs were common enough.

Yet, driving through Templepatrick, the array of manufacturers’ vehicles flying past on the other side of the road was bewildering. And the size of them compared to the number of people inside was extraordinary.

The BBC News home page has a couple of spots reserved for quirky and unusual stories, labelled Also in the News. They’re often the most clicked on links after the top story. This morning featured the irresistible Wrong gear confusion leads to flattened sports car - a practical example of why the French might be right to drive on the small side.

Whata mistaka to maka!

However clicking through to read the story brought an unexpected feeling of shame. It was a Northern Ireland story. A Belfast story. Yet more positive representation of thriving Northern Ireland!

It's the story of a Lexus SUV that instead of reversing out of a parking space in the Co-Op car park on the Lisburn Road went forward, and with an automatic gearbox, traction control, and a sturdy pair of wheels, drove up on top of a Porsche Boxster and a Toyota Celica.

Ronan O’Kane’s on-the-spot pictures tell the awful story.

Dominic Montague, who works in a nearby coffee shop, saw the Lexus driver in the aftermath of the crash.

“She just looked befuddled, she couldn't really understand what was going on - which is probably understandable enough if you drove a car out over two other cars,” he said.

It’s not all funny ...

One person, believed to be the Porsche driver, was taken to hospital. His injuries are not believed to be life-threatening.

... and the police are now investigating.

Update - after lunch - although the front page title remains the same, the actual article has been re-titled, from Gear mistake flattens sports car to Lexus rollover in parking lottery, and much of the speculation about going not quite getting into reverse gear has been wiped.

TGV - book in advance

The joy of a decent public transport system is that people use it. And a high speed train network like the TGV requires people to be seated.

We turned up at Gare de Lyon (which is in Paris not Lyons - though occasionally foreigners make a bad mistake!) - in good time to buy our tickets to head down to Valence.

Except the train we wanted was completely full. Sold out. And when it's full, there are no more tickets. A bit like an airplane rather than an intercity train in the UK (where you the space in a carriage between the doors and the toilets will regularly be filled with bodies, like sardines in a crushed tin).

So it's going to be an extra two hour wait for the later TGV - which only has seats available in first class. Kerching kerching. The only upside is that Littl'un can have a seat for the two hour ride for a mere €8. Less than a tenth of what each of her parents are paying. If only I could pretend to be three and a half too!

Time for another tea glace!

Parisian ways ... Metro and cuisine

The Paris Metro has a distinct advantage over London's Tube: the Metro doesn't run very deep.

Carting Littl'un (and our cases) around Paris, we appreciate the access improvements that the city are making to the Metro.

Some stations have working escalators, some even lifts. However a number have lifts up to the main concourse, but still steps up to street level!

And some major stations like Gare du Nord have broken escalators, no lifts, and just bump-bump-bump steps down to certain platforms. Though we're thankful for helpful passers-by who volunteer to lift the front of the buggy while the other one of us carries the cases up and down.

Whatever its faults, the Metro is miles more accessible than the Tube will ever manage to be in the next five years. And the Paris bus service is very reliable, very regular - and unsurprisingly - very well used.

Getting a decent cup of tea is a real problem. Thé au lait was served yesterday with hot tea and hot milk .... yuck! Tonight, lait froid was provided, and the tea tasted divine. Thank you Holiday Inn!

Though payback for the decent cup'o'tea was the profiteroles. Served with fromage frais not chocolate? Sounded ok.

Picture what arrived - I'll add the photo when I get back home. Update - done!

Three profiteroles, stuffed with cottage cheese. And on the side, a square dish of lettuce. No cream. No ice cream. Not even anything sweet. Hardly deserved to be on the dessert menu! But at least the tea was wonderful.

We'd a lovely lunch yesterday in a tiny backstreet restaurant near St Michael. Tonight we called into a bar near the hotel with a Parisian friend. There was a menu on the door, and Littl'un was hungry.

Him: "Sorry, only thing on the [proper] menu tonight is steak et frites"

Us: "Ok"

Five minutes later. "Actually, too late for steak."

Me: "Hot dog and chips?"

Him "Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, enormous hot dog with a sprinkling of cheese over it arrives.

Me: "Des frites?"

Him: "Ah non. Too late. Enjoy your meal."

For the record the Croque Monsieur avec salade was lacking anything green!

Not great for a gastro-pub that advertised meals all day long.

So our brush with French cuisine has its good and bad points. Though the Quick! burger chain do lovely meaty burgers and the salad equivalent of chips is enormous and very edible.

Tomorrow we head down to Valence on the TGV for 24 hours.

Ryanair - selfishly efficient - and a laid back Aer Lingus

Ryanair run a very distinctive airline. One that has little focus on good customer experience: instead prioritising their internal processes and profitability.

So instead of bending to the whim of customers, they simplify their internal processes, derisking them of all that can go wrong. After all, complexity introduces more potential failure points.

And it works. A very high proportion of their flights depart and land on time. And they squeeze every last pound or euro out of customer pockets.

Unfortunately their success leaves a poor taste in customers' mouths - feeling cheesed off that online check-in closes four hours before the flight departs, meaning you can't leave it until you get up for the early flight to Stansted. Oh, and web check-in no longer qualifies for priority boarding. And then there's the on-board advertising - the plane's PA sounds like Ryanair FM before take-off. And no where else could a simple breakfast of tea and a roll cost £7.20 - and be served tea first followed 15 minutes later by the roll (and finally another 20 minutes later by a scribbled receipt).

Its older Irish flying cousin, Aer Lingus, may be late departing Belfast International for Paris this morning, but their laid back attitude at check-in - "would you like to take the buggy to the gate?" - and hassle free approach has us all chilled out. Being en vacances helps too.

(Of course the 15 minute delay has just been extended to 30 minutes, so our laissez faire attitude might fade as Littl'un runs out of steam charging around Gate 27!)

Update - the delay was just over half an hour in the end. Spot the problem with the photo below, taken out the window after we took off and rose above the clouds.

How to hide a water tower (water castle) ... the Valence way

If you needed to build a couple of water towers to support a local community, there are two ways you could go about it.

One would be to hire an architect and a civil engineer to build a round or rectangular structure to hold the stuff that’s currently in short supply (to drink at least) in Gloucester this week.

The other approach is to commission a sculptor to help disguise the enormous structure by making it a work of public art that is a delight to look at.

The city of Valence took this latter approach when in 1970 they built two “futuristic water castles” (deux châteaux d’eau futuristes) in the middle of a lake in Le Parc Jean Perdrix.

The sculptor was Philolaos Tloupas (no English translation of his Wikipedia page yet).

More snaps over at Flickr.

Home from the world tour ... Harry Potter and the Doorstep Delivery

Back home from a journey that took us from Portstewart (Northern Ireland) to Valence (France) and onto Lavigny (Switzerland). We had a great time. I'm now in the process of processing two 1 GB memory sticks full of photos. Expect some to appear on the blog and Flickr before too long.

But in the meantime, a (news?) story caught my eye.

“[Royal Mail] said they will deliver one copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for every 43 homes across Northern Ireland.”

My postie will hopefully thank me for not lengthening his arms by ordering a copy for delivery on Saturday. And with that number of copies being ordered for postal delivery, never mind the number of books that will be bought in bookshops and supermarkets over the weekend, someone I know should have a copy to borrow in a week or two!

“A total of 11,500 copies will be winging their way to Northern Ireland [from Amazon] … As the book is too big to fit through most letter boxes, Royal Mail has warned fans to make sure they are in when the post-owl calls.”

It's a glorious Twelfth ... on the train Valence -> Lyon -> Geneva

No sign of beating Lambeg drums, Orange collarettes, or pictorial banners as we left Valence this morning.

The French must be combining their celebrations with Bastille Day on Saturday.

And the only acrid smoke was from the kitchen when I forgot to take the bread out of the old-fashioned toaster - one which holds the bread against the filament and doesn't have a pop-up function! Oops

So nothing unusual to report - except a train that left 5 minutes late and arrived bang on time (as opposed to an additional half hour late).

Valence - deux - a turn in the weather, thunder and lightning

My last missive from Valence noted the lack of swings and bricks in this area of France. Since then we've noticed swings in people's gardens, but still none in public parks. And some bricks were found in an exposed patchwork wall of a rural house.

The weather turned too. On an post-dinner walk along a canal and across some playing fields last night, grey clouds gathered. Then the thunder and lightning started. That was about 8.00pm. The locals were playing boules and snacking at the little bar.

Ten minutes later, the bar was boarded up and the boules' players had vanished. Bad sign. But despite the spectacular sound and light show, we had no more than 15 minutes worth of rain.

Sitting out in the flat's little balcony three hours later, the lightning was still flashing and the thunder echoing all around the flood-plane that Valence is built on.

And then about 3.30am there was another burst of thunder and lightning.

Such a difference from the burning sunshine of Saturday. And so beautiful to watch the lightning arcing across the sky, like a celestial firework display. Looks like I caught two shots of the lightning on my camera ... no way to upload them until I get back home. But no where near as good as the fingers of lightning and panoramic flashes that lit up the hills while we just sat and watched, not bothered to take more snaps.

Some people reassuringly tell their children that lightning is only "God taking their photograph". Well, he must have been playing with new digital camera over Valence last night! Hope he got some good shots - Google Earth/Maps would appreciate some more up-to-date images.

Cooking in Valence, swings, iced tea, concrete and a lime-green Twingo

Take a fair-haired, pale-skinned person from wet Belfast, and drop him in the fan-assisted oven of Valence in France. Apply factor gazillion sun-cream and watch the <s>tan</s> lobster red glow develop.

By 11 in the morning, the ground is sizzling. And at 6 o'clock in the evening (18:00 if you're reading this in France) it's still uncomfortably warm outside.

France - Valence anyway - is a country without swings. Too dangerous? Too much fun? Could lead to sunburn if left sitting in one too long? I don't know why, but even the biggest parks we've found don't have them. Instead they have metal slides, facing the sun, that are so hot by mid-morning that you'd need to kit toddlers out with asbestos trousers and gloves to be able to go down them.

And supermarkets are full of every variety of Iced tea (the glace) except for the original lemon stuff. Peach, Mango, Isotonic, in bottles and cans, but no Lemon.

There was something a bit funny about the buildings on the road down from Lyon airport and in Valence. Last night I finally put my finger on it. No brick.

Lots of red roof tiles, but not a brick in sight. Every building seems to have been constructed with thick walls of concrete. Given the strength of the sunshine, windows are bigger than expected, though they do all come with metal shutters to reflect (or absorb) the worst of the heat.

Concrete - painted or unpainted - blurs into a sea of creamy-grey. All in contrast to the stonework and cosmopolitan architecture around the centre of Paris. I think Valence needs a touch of Kevin McCloud to cheer it up!

But no complaints about the little lime-green Twingo (no power steering) that we've been given the use of to get about. Va va vroom ...