The overall impression is of displacement of the elements having slipped past each other

The overall impression is of displacement, of the elements having slipped past each other.Back inside, despite its size, the Grand Ecran manages to invoke intimate cinematic memories. The shiny metal strip in the floor design, the enormous, inflatable Jupiter above and saucer-shaped porch at the rear work together to produce a vivid cinematic flashback to Star Wars.Fast forward to the real-life search for curious Parisian cinemas and you’ll probably come to a stop by the three-metre high letters which announce the Rex on boulevard Poissonniÿre. Otherwise known as Le Grand Rex, because of its large screen, this building, with its art deco tower, represents one of Paris’ few remaining “atmospheric” cinemas.Beyond the plush foyer, filled with deep red furnishings and Romanesque statues, is the auditorium. In 1932, when the complex was constructed, cinema owners scoured the globe for arresting architecture, many turning to South America and the Mediterranean for inspiration. This explains why the Grand Rex of today is a heady mix of Spanish haciendas, minarets and colonnades, complete with a fake night sky.Foreign films shown here are dubbed, however, so if you don’t want to practise your French, continue on to Les Coulisses du Rex next door. The Coulisses presents guided “Stars of the Rex” tours in English, a happy ending to a flick through Paris’ cinemas.The Fête du Cinéma takes place all over France from 25 June to 27 June. Pick up a cinema passport, pay full price for your first film and then watch subsequent films for 10 francs (£1) each.

For details call the free hotline, Allo Ciné on 00 33 140 30 20 10 or visit: www.allocine.fr. From 15 July to 31 August under-25s get into 150 cinemas across Paris for the reduced price of 25Ff. And, anyone can enjoy free open-air cinema at Parc de la Villette, often features in English, in late July or early August. Fingers of grey drizzle propelled us towards Heathrow airport. When we got there, we surveyed our luggage: four large suitcases, two pieces of hand luggage, two cameras, one video camera, one comfort blanket (mine), six changes of outfit (also mine), 29 rattles, 800 wet wipes and about ten million nappies And a baby.

Fingers of grey drizzle propelled us towards Heathrow airport. When we got there, we surveyed our luggage: four large suitcases, two pieces of hand luggage, two cameras, one video camera, one comfort blanket (mine), six changes of outfit (also mine), 29 rattles, 800 wet wipes and about ten million nappies. And a baby.
As our baggage made its way to the hold, we made our way to the departure gate. I was delighted to hear an announcement informing us that passengers travelling with babies and children had priority embarkation. But, by the time I’d grabbed Quintin, strapped him wriggling into his carrier and disposed of the disgusting lump of squashed mango that was now dribbling down his chin, the moment had gone and we struggled onto the plane and along the aisle clutching half-eaten boarding passes, before collapsing into our allotted seats.Above us flickered a huge screen and Quin gave a gummy grin, clearly anticipating the in-flight entertainment. Having extracted one bulky complimentary nappy and a Baby Welcome Pack (BWP) I had popped him into his cot and was casually flicking through the in-flight magazine when a smiling air hostess approached.