Eric is a friend of Alain's (and of mine too now, weather he likes it or not), but up until I met him in person the other day, I knew him through photos. He has a camera. Alain does not. They travel together a good deal. So when Alain sends me photos of his trips, they are a bit like the photos of the ceramic garden dwarf in Amélie Poulain. Here is Eric in Madrid. Here is Eric in Stockholm. Here is Eric in...well, you get the picture. He actually lives here in Paris, though he is off on a (nother) trip at the moment. I lucked out and caught him in town one night this week. We ate some deliscious, Italian-style grilled vegetables and laughed about all of the funny things Alain does (like never walk less than full-speed and always throughly researches whatever town he is in for the best coffee, the best cheese and the best desserts, much to the enjoyment of us less reseach-oriented, more consumtion-oriented folk.) After our dinner, we climbed the stairs to Montmartre. He talked, I puffed. After I finished ogling at the view, the building, and the astonishing amount of tourists, he very appropriately took me to the cafe where Amélie worked in the movie and we had hot chocolate.
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