Horrible things have happened tonight in one of my favourite cities. I was there this past July, having one of the most relaxing and romantic of times — as hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people do in Paris every year.
Over the next few hours and days, the exact picture of what happened tonight at the Bataclan and throughout the city will become more clear, but – for myself – I just need a few images of Paris as I know it and love it.
For me, Paris is Audrey Hepburn. It’s s’wonderful. It’s timeless.
For me, Paris is the target of a thousand annoying Hollywood clichés, but I also kind of love them all, too.
For me, Paris is history. It’s medieval and Napoleonic and Art Deco and classical and has the best gargoyles. It just does. Don’t even try to argue. Best. Gargoyles.
For me, Paris is sitting at the Café de Flore in Saint-Germain, having a coffee and a croissant and participating in the city’s favourite sport: people-watching.
And, as I wait for the 9pm headlines, which I’m sure will be very dire and depressing, this is all I want to hear, because it’s just the opposite:
Best scene of the film. If the news from France is making you low, don’t give in. You can’t if you’re listening to La Marseillaise.