Slight Return

29 August 2003

I’m back in the land of the digital, it would seem. Two weeks were pleasantly passed on Levkas, in Nidri, sailing, eating, drinking, and generally having a lot of fun and a well earned holiday. My sailing improved a fair bit (and I discovered that I’m really not too shabby at it), and a great deal was consumed, including:

  • Filmwise: On the flight out, What A Girl Wants. I watched this without the soundtrack and thus concocted a fantastic plot about Colin Firth’s desire to bed his recently returned American daughter, but somehow I get the feeling this wasn’t what was really going on. What was going on was pretty shit, though. Hideous chocolate-box portrayal of London, bastardisation of the British political system, and general wish fulfilment for twelve-year-old girls, or something. Pretty crap; its portrayal of Henley was surprisingly non-ridiculous, but that’s only because the reality of Henley is so ridiculous anyway…

    On the return, I got the godawful Agent Cody Banks, which I had the misfortune to watch with the soundtrack. Redeeming features: the greatest iPod ever, which not only holds 20gb of music, but also contains a winch that can take a small person’s body weight, and an electronic lock pick. And the fact that everyone at the CIA headquarters travelled around on Segways, which makes for some pretty hilarious scenes. Everything else was execrable. Ian “Lovejoy” McShane trying to take over the world by putting nanomachines into the world’s ice cube supply? Give me a break. And slightly more budget. I swear, CGI has allowed more people to make shitty films with pseudo-expensive specialy effects than ever before.

  • Bookwise: Iain Banks’ Dead Air, which all told, was pretty appalling. Immediately dislikable central character, irrelevant plot, irksome yammering of central character about issues, and very little else to recommend it. September 11th is just really a framing device for the book, not what it’s about, contrary to what the press for it suggested. I also read James Joyce’s Dubliners, which is far far far better, and has some genuinely stunningshort stories in it (though it must be said, not all of them hit the mark).
  • Soundwise: Not a lot new, really. CDs of funky and mellow house to keep me going in the 100F+ temperatures of northern Greece, and the most recent albums of Dizzee Rascal, London Elektricity, and Four Tet. Have just picked up Hed Kandi’s most recent Winter Chill CD along with Jacko’s Off The Wall and Thriller, in yet another HMV sale. It’s going to take me a while to warm to Thriller, I think, but Off the Wall is just mighty.
  • Lots of Greek food. What I sampled of Greek cuisine is just wonderful. Essential, it seems to fuse the freshest, crispest, most beautifully marinated salads with, well, barbeque. Saganaki is just deep-fried feta, but it may as well be the Greek for “good” because it’s so damn nice, and the saganaki mushrooms I had were amazing. Souvlaki is the kebab we know and love; gyros is something more approaching doner but made with real offcuts, not synthetic offal, and is thus super-tasty. And then there’s the beautiful fresh fish and stuff. It’s just all yummy. And fresh. And brilliant. The food was one of the greatest parts of my holiday, I’d guess.

And there we are. I’m back, and shall now do my best to weblog properly or something. Like I always say…

1 comment on this entry.

  • fridgemagnet | 12 Sep 2003

    Hideous chocolate-box portrayal of London, bastardisation of the British political system, and general wish fulfilment for twelve-year-old girls, or something.

    That was kind of what I expected. The poster had beefeaters on it, after all. I imagine there was a lot of the irrepressable teen teaching the repressed English how to enjoy themselves, too.