Friday, June 4 2004, 10:22

Clash of the Biceps!

I went to see Troy at the cinema with Siobhán and Clare last night, and I feel duty bound to review it for you.

From the previews you've seen, you'll have noted that the film is muscletastic, and if you like a fine specimen of sculpted flesh, you're in for a treat with Brad Pitt as Achilles, Eric Bana as Hector, and even the slighter Orlando Bloom as Paris. But I'm afraid that's all you're in for. You should note that the film is "inspired" by Homer's Iliad, so don't expect it to live up to the fine tale of your Classics lessons; for instance, the siege of Troy in Homer lasts for ten years, and although my arse felt like I'd been there forever after 2h45 (remind me not to go to the Odeon again), this adaptation races through the action in just a few days.

To be fair, it's only my fellow classicists among you who will probably be familiar with the action and who may be disappointed, so let me warn you - it's a lot less gory, there are no godly special effects to look forward to, Achilles is completely heterosexual, and it's got a much happier ending. I was quite looking forward to seeing 10 year old Astyanax thrown to his death from the walls...

But there are some great moments - the duel of "swift-footed" Achilles and Hector "of the shining helmet" (those aren't my quotes, they're Homer's) is pretty good, although the three of us really enjoyed the (un)dressing scenes ;)

If you go and see one film this year, go and see Shaun of the Dead. Troy is a Jason and the Argonauts for the 21st century - a nice film for a bank holiday afternoon!

Friday, June 11 2004, 0:53

At home with the Aussies...

Last Saturday dawned like any other day - there were no portents in the sky the night before, and there was no buzz of anticipation on the streets in the morning. But I was so nervous with excitement that I hardly slept! Saturday was the day I moved into my new home.

After I'd trekked out to east to get my keys, Matt, Matt, Pete, and I stacked up my stuff into two cars, and I said goodbye to my Bermondsey home. I'd been there for a monster ten weeks! I never intended to impose on my lovely hosts, Vicki and Pete, for nearly so long. A big thank you to them for being so patient with me and for helping me to settle back into London at their place. And now they can have the dining table back where Vicki's airbed was... Fantastic.

Before long, we were standing before the ugly building that is Kelson House, rearing out of the sprawling estate like a friendless meercat on its last legs. Ok, it's not pretty on the outside, but all my visitors so far have thought the interior is pretty decent, once you bolt the door shut behind you. And what fabulous views! There can't be many places in London where you get a great view of the Dome from sitting on the toilet!

Pete left us to go shopping with "the wife", so I spent my first day there with Matt, Matt, and Tony. No new home, however well furnished (and this one is well furnished) is complete without a few knickknacks, so we paid an obligatory visit to one of London's IKEA stores, and I shopped like a supermarket sweep contestant with no need for encouragement from the glowingly tanned Dale Winton, stopping only to gobble down meatballs and chips halfway round.

My purchases sat in the back of Matt's car while we made our way around Eltham Palace, a beautiful mediaeval manor restored and added to by the Courtaulds in the Thirties in a lavish art deco style. The weekend finished off with a squash and biscuits with Matt's mum (just like when I was 8), and dinner back at my new home.

It was weird for a couple of days, waking up alone in a big new flat, trying to find my own routine, but then bang! Three Australians hit the place in one go: Pete, my flatmate, newly returned from what sounds like gay heaven in Orlando; and Warren & Tash, who Paul, Matt, and I met on the Solway Lass, sailing around the Whitsundays last April. It's gone from empty to full house, and it's such a change! Warren & Tash have just arrived after touring Asia, and are here on two year visas.

Wednesday, June 23 2004, 10:55

Three lions on the shirt... and the car, and the house, and the children...

I'm sure the nation didn't leap behind the England team for Euro 2002 to the extent that it has this year. Everywhere I go, I see people wearing a dozen variations of the England flag; it's hanging from windows, it's flying in mini form from cars and motorbikes, adorning caps, bags, crisp packets, cans, beer bottles... you name it, someone's thought of it. If St George had got a copyright on his cross, he'd be a wealthy (but dead) man today, I can tell you.

You won't be even slightly surprised to hear that Euro 2004 hasn't even slightly changed my life, other than occasionally noting how England supporters are doing their usual thing of heaping shame on the already tattered name of this Atlantic rock; although Bryan (who's visiting from Sydney for a couple of weeks) insists on watching England v Portugal on Thursday. I'm guessing he'll be cheering on the Portuguese like he cheered on everyone who played England in the Rugby World Cup last year...

One of the many delightful things about England (unlike its football yobs) is Oxford, where I had the pleasure of living for a year in 1996. My Aussie pal, Tony, was keen to check out the City of Dreaming Spires, so I thought I'd refresh my memories of the place and show him around, and catch up with some uni friends while there. So last weekend, I expended some more shoe rubber and walked Tony around some of the key tourist points of Oxford, getting some great views from the University Church of St Mary over All Souls, my own little Hertford, Brasenose, University, etc., and we went for a good walk around Magdalen and its deer park, and Christ Church too, with its Great Quad and cathedral.

The following day, a little tired from our evening partying with Ben and Branwen (our gracious hosts for the weekend), we indulged in a little punting for that quintessential Oxonian experience. I think Tony was a little blown away by the whole Brideshead Revisited atmosphere of sipping Pimm's as we slipped idly down the river past students lounging in the shade of mediaeval sandstone towers, or even playing croquet on the banks...

All frightfully nice!

Wednesday, June 23 2004, 18:03

Thought for the day

A colleague here at Oyster commented earlier on the danger of losing track of changes made to the site we're working on, and of this problem becoming more severe:

"If your crack becomes a chasm, you might lose something in it"

Wise words indeed - and no doubt something we can all learn from...