Afterlift. Or Almayo Kukjang, all over again.

Peter Rukavina

I decided to forgo the LIFT-sponsored end of day group fondue last night, and to strike out into the night on my own. After a brief scan of this handy cinema listings website, I was off.

My first stop was a small stand-up Moroccan falafel joint on rue des Alpes, just around the corner from the hotel. Excellent falafel with sweet mint tea — who needs fondue.

Then up towards the train station on a sort of wild goose chase to find Cinema Nord-Sud; they were showing Woody Allen’s Match Point at 21h, and seemed out of the way enough to make for a good expedition. I ended up taking several wrong turns, and had to ask for directions at a couple of intersections; it was eerily reminiscent of my experience with [[Steve]] in South Korea in 1998 when we roamed the streets of Haenam, Steve stopping every tenth person on the street asking “Almayo Kukjang,” which we thought meant “where is the cinema,” but seems to have meant something else entirely.

As in Korea, the cinema was eventually found: Cinema Nord-Sud is a charming non-plex single theatre of the type that is almost completely gone from North America now. It was the perfect place to see Match Point — a true cinema, of the proper proportions and feeling. The movie itself was neither profound nor horrible, and it was a pleasant way to spend the evening. One interesting, and initially confusing aspect of the movie was that it was subtitled in both German and French — at first I couldn’t figure out why the French looked so much like German.

At 11:30 I was back on the streets heading home. Save for a confusing scene around the corner that involved a aerial ladder truck from the fire department, several ambulances and a large crowd, the walk to the hotel was uneventful. After a brief LoudHush conversation with [[Catherine]] and [[Oliver]] back home (worked like a charm; thanks again People of Romania), I was to bed. I discovered, to my dismay, that the effect of coffee + Red Bull + tea + tea left me somewhat unable to sleep, so when the alarm went off this morning, I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. But I’ve a breakfast in me now, and I’m off for more LIFT.

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Submitted by red TEa on

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Tengo la camisa negraporque
negra tengo el almayo por ti perd

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Photo of Peter RukavinaI am . I am a writer, letterpress printer, and a curious person.

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