Gas Station Guzzling: Shrimpy's Review

Update (2015): Shrimpy's was only ever going to be a pop-up and sadly, it has now closed down.

As I've mentioned a few times, King's Cross has become a lot more interesting since I started working there three years ago, and we would watch attentively on our lunchtime running sessions as the former petrol station on Goods Way was converted into a restaurant and bar called Shrimpy's. Created by the folks behind Bistrotheque in Shoreditch, Shrimpy's opened last year, but somehow, it took me until last week to pay a visit to the anti-diner dinette.

Shrimpy's, an anti-diner dinette in a former King's Cross petrol station.

You can sit at the outdoor bar and grill tables, but although it was relatively sunny on the evening we went, we opted for a table in the dinette. There are only a handful of tables and a few seats at the bar, so do be sure to book; it might be the back of King's Cross station, but there still aren't many other smarter dining spots in the area so it gets busy. The décor is a strange mix of minimalist chic and 1960s eccentrica. I quite liked the random giraffe, the golden palm tree and the window sill lined with cacti, but it may not be to everyone's taste.

The décor's a little whacky. But fun!

I also like the swirly-fonted menu, which was divided into more sections than I was expecting. Am I in time for afternoon tea (the Twin Peaks: cherry pie and bottomless coffee, served between 3 and 6 pm), and what combination of snackettes, appetisers and sides do I want with my entrée? While we puzzled it out, we ordered a couple of cocktails. I had had a hard day at work, so the Shrimpy's Fizz (Cachaça, pineapple, sugar, mint, lime juice and Cava) was just what I needed. It was delicious, although I would have preferred Prosecco, of course. The other drink (I forget whether it was a Paddington Bear or a Rock Hill) was too manly for me, but seemed to slip down nicely.

Cocktails and cacti.

I wanted to try for a pudding, so we skipped the snackette/appetiser options and jumped straight into the mains, which include a lot of US comfort food with Central/South American touches. I ordered the cheeseburger in a bonnet — a bonnet, it turned out, was just a tasty brioche roll in the shape of a bonnet. It was perfectly medium rare and very juicy and flavoursome, if slightly on the petite side. For me, this didn't matter too much, especially as we were also sharing some fries and some humita (sort of like guacamole but with sweetcorn as the main ingredient), but this may disappoint those with bigger appetites. You could just order more starters, of course. Or another burger. The pork pozole also performed well, even if the the chilli hanging out on the side plate was so potent that it managed to make the adjacent radish, lime and avo taste super-spicy.

The cheeseburger in a bonnet. Not to scale.

And then it was pudding time. The menu is split into "afters" and "sundaes." I saw the magic words "peanut butter sandwich," but my excitement soon faded when I saw that banana was also involved. We shared a chocolate brownie and pistachio sundae, which, again, was a little smaller, but not too small either.

L: The pork pozole, humita and burger. R: Chocolate brownie sundae.

Shrimpy's isn't cheap and the portions are pretty modes, but the food is very good and it's definitely a cool venue. It's a bit of a shame that you don't get more of a view from the dinette — you can just about see the Regent's Canal through the windows if you stretch. The outside tables are right next to the canal, of course, on what used to be the forecourt. One word of warning: Shrimpy's doesn't take cash, which is fine for someone like me who hates carrying cash, but might be annoying if you have scores and pinks to burn (and no, fivers and tenners won't get you far at Shrimpy's).

Shrimpy's. King's Cross Filling Station, Goods Way, London, N1C 4UR (Tube: King's Cross). Website. Twitter.

A Little Less Mutilation, a Little More Comedy Please

Before Tuesday night, pretty much everything I know about the Mormon faith I learned from fashion, style and lifestyle blogs — an unfair sampling, perhaps. I'm not sure that I know a whole lot more after going to see The Book of Mormon at the Prince of Wales Theatre. A friend with much better contacts than I was able to score great tickets for a group of us back in February and I've been looking forward to it ever since.

The Book of Mormon, London edition

I liked Team America and, in small doses, South Park, so I had high hopes for The Book of Mormon, and it was great, sweary, inappropriate fun. The plot, such as it is, involves two young Mormon missionaries, Elder Price (played by Gavin Creel) and Elder Cunningham (usually portrayed by Jared Gertner, but his understudy Daniel Buckley stood in last night), who are assigned to be "companions" at the same mission in Uganda. Price rather fancies himself and is mortified to have to spend two years with the chubby, over-keen geek, Cunningham. He's even more devastated that they were sent to Africa and not his dream destination: Orlando, inexplicably. Soon after arriving at their Ugandan village, they have their luggage stolen by a gun-toting general with an NSFW name, and they begin to realise that a) Africa isn't the same as in The Lion King and b) it's going to be harder than they thought to convince the locals to convert, as they have bigger concerns: like AIDS. And female genital mutilation.

The cast of The Book of Mormon take their bows

And here's the problem: where do you draw the line? To some extent, it's "OK" to laugh at some of the African scenes, because, as with Borat, we are laughing at the dumb Americans' reactions to Africa. That degree of remove makes it somehow acceptable. I didn't find any of the female genital mutilation lines funny, however, and not just because I don't think it's a funny topic. After seeing some of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's other work, I was expecting The Book of Mormon to be offensive, and it was. But it also felt like it had been censored for the stage, and maybe it was because of this that some of the gags weren't as funny as they needed to be. I laughed a lot, for sure, and the African villagers' re-enactment of the story of Joseph Smith and of Mormonism was brilliant, but many of the laughs were really just chuckles.

The singing was good — there weren't really any stand-out songs, but I liked a lot of them — and the dancing and costumes were impeccable. I thought Daniel Buckley rather stole the show, although his character does get the easier laughs than his uptight buddy. And Alexa Khadime, who plays a sort of heroine, has a superb voice. The whole ensemble performed well, though. The Book of Mormon is a great show, and it's definitely worth buying tickets — if you can get hold of them for a sensible amount.

River Man

Jeff Nichols' new film Mud opens in darkest Arkansas, when 14-year-old Ellis (Tye Sheridan) and his friend Neckbone (Jacob Lofland) find a knocked-up sailboat stuck up a tree on a deserted island in the Mississippi River, which must have been lodged there after a flood. They find some measly food supplies and a stash of Penthouse and realise someone is living there, and, on heading back to their boat, they meet a superstitious drifter called Mud (Matthew McConaughey), who is perfectly friendly and charming, but despite his claims of having money, seems desperate for the boys to help him by getting him some more food. They are a little reticent, but Ellis in particular seems to trust him, and they head home, promising to return soon with food.

Both boys live in a poor town in rural Arkansas. Neckbone, who never knew his parents, lives with his oyster catcher uncle (Michael Shannon), who fancies himself as a bit of a stud. Ellis lives with his parents (Sarah Paulson and Ray McKinnon) on a houseboat; they both love him, but times are hard. "I work you hard because life is work," his father tells him. Their marriage is slowly breaking down, which may mean a change of living arrangements for Ellis, who baulks at the thought of becoming a townie. Meanwhile, he pursues a relationship with an older girl, May Pearl (Bonnie Sturdivant), who is flattered by the attention and charmed by his naïveté, although isn't very serious about him.

For all of these reasons, Ellis is vulnerable to Mud's charisma, even after he finds out Mud is on the run from the law after killing a man whom he says was trying to hurt Juniper (Reese Witherspoon), the love of his life. The more Ellis finds out about Mud's life, the more he is drawn in and the more he identifies with the older man. It helps that a lot of Mud's anecdotes seem to take place when he was around the same age as Ellis—he met Juniper that summer, for instance, and it is hearing this that gives Ellis the courage to go after May Pearl. But despite his supposed openness with the boys, Mud is clearly a troubled man, who seems to struggle with the truth, and the uneasy nature of Nichols' slow-paced, two-hour movie makes you think it is quite possible that the burgeoning friendship between Mud and Ellis is going to go horribly, horribly wrong.

McConaughey is great as the troubled, troubling Mud, and Witherspoon put in a good performance as the trailer trash jezebel who, if you believe some of the characters, is responsible for Mud taking the path that he did in life. It's Sheridan who really shines in this melancholy coming-of-age drama, though, as the teenage boy who wants so desperately to seize control of the life that he feels is slipping from his grasp. After Tree of Life, he must have been grateful for some lines and some character development... Mud is a little too long, and the languorousness started to drag in the middle, although the action started to pick up again in the final act. It reminded me of Mean Creek in some ways, as well as Stand by Me. If you're in the mood for something flashy and entertaining in an obvious way, go and see Gatsby, but you want to see something subtler and more thoughtful and understated, Mud could be the film for you.

The Caffeine Chronicles: Allpress Roastery Café Review

I don't know why it has taken me so long to pay a visit to Allpress Roastery Café, an antipodean coffee bar and roastery in the heart of Shoreditch. Yesterday, though, I decided it was time to try out a few more espresso bars and Allpress was next on my list, so off I went. Located on Redchurch Street, a quiet side street just north of Bethnal Green Road and east of Shoreditch High Street.

I was worried it might be too busy to get a table, but after I had ordered my drink, I was able to find a place to perch. I guess the hipsters were still in bed, sleeping off the night before.

The décor at Allpress is very casual: wooden tables and chairs, and neutral tones on the walls. The roasting equipment and the grinders, along with the La Marzocco machine, elevate this espresso bar above some of its rivals. I thought about ordering a single-origin brew, but in the end just went for my usual double macchiato. It arrived with a smiley face etched into the crema (actually, I think it might have been winking, but I may be reading too much into it!).

The coffee was rich and flavoursome—very slightly bitter, but not in a bad way—and the crema was robust enough to last all the way to the end of my drink. They also serve breakfast, a range of Italian-inspired sandwiches, pastries and cakes, and you can, of course, buy bags of beans—they supply a number of cafés and restaurants throughout London. I had stocked up on beans at Monmouth earlier in the morning, but I might go back to Allpress next time I need some more. Oh, and if this isn't geeky enough for you, you can go to one of their Perfect Cup classes.

Allpress Roastery Café. 58 Redchurch Street, Shoreditch, London, E2 7DP (Tube: Shoreditch High Street or Old Street). Website. Twitter.

Back East

I wasn't expecting to be free today, but some last-minute cancellations meant I had a day to catch up on my south/east London wanderings. Last night involved a few cocktails at ninetyeight in Shoreditch, including the eucalyptus martini pictured below, so I was a little later than usual heading out for my morning run along the river.

Eucalyptus martini at ninetyeight

But I still made it to Monmouth's Spa Terminus outpost to pick up a bag of freshly roasted Brazilian coffee beans before their noon closing time. I also grabbed a croissant from the Little Bread Pedlar before heading home to shower and change.

Coffee + croissant = happy Bex

The sun was starting to shine by then, so I decided to treat myself to lunch at the Ropewalk, near Maltby Street. They always have a range of tempting lunch options, but I decided to join the burgeoning queue for burgers at The Woolpack's stall. I ordered a classic burger, which involved mature cheddar and heritage tomato chutney. It was delicious and well worth the wait, even if I nearly squeezed a squirt of burger juices onto my jeans, thanks to the burger being somewhat bigger than the brioche that housed it.

The Woolpack's burger bar at the Ropewalk

Classic Woolpack burger. Medium rare. Delicious.

I hadn't checked out any new (to me) espresso bars for a while, so I then walked over Tower Bridge and up to Shoreditch, via Spitalfields Market, where I valiantly resisted buying numerous pretty and cheap-ish scarves, before ending up at Allpress on Redchurch Street (full review to follow). I much prefer Shoreditch on a chilled out Saturday afternoon to Friday nights, when the whole area is rammed and not all that pleasant. And you can see some of the street art by day too.

Allpress Espresso, Shoreditch.

"Please wait here until you are useful."

Reflected Shoreditch street art.

After a quick browse in some of the pop-up shops at Boxpark, I walked back down through the City, past the Gherkin and many of the new developments to St Paul's, where I crossed back to the South Bank and headed home. There was, as usual, a constant mass of people stretching from the front of St Paul's all the way to the Tate Modern.

The Gherkin and its new neighbours.

The hoards approach the Millennium Bridge.

J. Crew Pops Up in King's Cross

When on Monday I received an email from J. Crew, I almost ignored it, but then I spotted the words "pop-up shop" and "King's Cross." Yes, that's right: the mailing was inviting us to preview J. Crew's autumn/winter 2013 collection at a concept store, which is being held in collaboration with Central Saint Martins, an art school with a branch round the back of King's Cross station (next to Caravan and the canal, and just across the road from KERB). The shop was open yesterday and it's also there today until 5 pm.

Follow the arrows to J. Crew

As my office is within spitting distance of CSM, as soon as the clock hit noon yesterday, I rushed out in the rain to The Stables, which is at the back of the building. My experience of J. Crew sample sales made me worry that there would be a big queue, even with the inclement weather, but I need not have worried. But don't get too excited just yet... I know the focus of the email was on previewing the higher-end J. Crew Collection items that will be appearing in the company's Regent Street store (expected to open in late October or early November), but when the subject line of an email is "pop-up shop," I did expect a little more in the way of shopping.

Hi, J. Crew

J. Crew concept store at The Stables, King's Cross

You see, the only things you could really buy were the cashmere sweaters, which started at £160 (most were over £200). And tempted as I was by the Tippi sweater in neon pink, £200 is a lot of money, especially because if you wait long enough, you will be able to get a good discount or sale on the J. Crew website. Also, I know England has been having a rubbish spring, but is what is technically the spring/summer season the best time to be stocking up on cashmere? 

The Tippi sweater I resisted

The cashmere menu.

I wasn't expecting a full product range at the pop up, of course, but it would have been nice if they could have offered a few lower price items—accessories, maybe, or even some of the non-cashmere sweaters. I won't be going to the US for a while, and I was hoping to keep myself going by buying a pretty skirt or a colourful merino cardigan.

The store itself looked very cool, and I took a few photos of the collections, but to be honest, I don't go to J. Crew for high fashion. I rarely buy the Collection pieces, which are, I think, overpriced. I go there for the more basic colourful tops, skirts and shorts and for the accessories. The prices on the cashmere menu also hint that when J. Crew does finally open its Regent Street store in the autumn, the prices are going to be quite a lot more expensive than their American equivalents, which is a shame. I'll still go there, I'm sure, to treat myself occasionally, but it's hardly going to be a regular stop on my shopping trips.

J. Crew women's collection autumn/winter 2013

J. Crew men's collection autumn/winter 2013

Gatsby If You Can

I finally got to see Baz Luhrmann's long-waited interpretation of The Great Gatsby last night and although some of the reviews and comments had left me a little nervous, I enjoyed the film a lot. It's been a while since I read the book and I've never seen any of the movie adaptations, so I wasn't too worried about how well this new version would compare, but 2h20 of OTT opulence, Luhrmann style, might have been a bit much for a dull Tuesday evening at my local multiplex.

And Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby is a bit much. It's more than a bit much, in fact, but it kept me entertained throughout. As the film opens, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) is in rehab writing his memoirs of those heady days of decadence on Long Island. He moves into a tiny cottage across the water from his cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan) and her wealthy, polo-playing husband Tom "I'm not the polo player" Buchanan (a perfectly cast Joel Edgerton), and is intrigued by his mysterious neighbour, Jay Gatsby, who lives in the Versailles-like palace next door. Nick is invited to one of Gatsby's legendary parties—unusually, given that everyone else just turns up uninvited—and keen to meet his elusive neighbour, he goes along.

The party as imagined by Luhrmann is a cross between a Cambridge May Ball, the Rio Carnival and Cancún during spring break. Sequin-clad flapper girls strut their stuff by the swimming pool to the beat of Jay Z, will.i.am and Beyoncé. Yes, modern music, innit. It took a little while to adjust to this, but I didn't mind it too much. It's about thirty minutes into the film before we actually see Gatsby's face. Some of the party guests speculate on who Gatsby really is and how he got his money; it reminded me a lot of this scene in Mean Girls. Anyway, eventually Leonardo DiCaprio shows up and he certainly looks the part, old sport.

Nick soon begins to get sucked into this world and, even as he looks back on this summer and everything that happened therein, he can't help but defend and admire Gatsby. Then he finds out that Gatsby has a past with Daisy and he agrees to organise a "chance" encounter between the two of them over tea at Nick's place. A chance encounter that involves about 300 bunches of flowers and about 20 cakes, among other things. Nick tells himself it's OK because Daisy's husband is screwing the car mechanic's wife Myrtle (Isla Fisher) and because Gatsby and Daisy are in love and are meant to be, and so on. One of the main love scenes takes place at one of Gatsby's shindigs, where Gatsby and Daisy sneak away into the gardens together. It might be 17 years later and it might be Carey instead of Claire, and Lana Del Rey and The xx playing instead of Desrée, but it's still Craig Armstrong playing the score and it's still a very similar scene visually, structurally and emotionally to the balcony scene in Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. The xx's Together is a gorgeous song, so the cheesiness of the moment didn't bother me as much as it might.



The R+J similarities continue. Most of the audience knows the tragic endings of both films, and in both, there is a point of no return, after which there will be mutually assured destruction. In Gatsby, there is a lot of slow-mo and a lot of sad music and sad, longing glances. Carey Mulligan is really good as the ethereal, troubled Daisy, and although I liked Leo's take on Gatsby (though he did look a little old to play 32), I don't think it was his strongest recent performance. Edgerton, as I mentioned, made a great Tom, with fantastic delivery and expressions. "Mr Gatsby, exactly who are you, anyhow?" he sneers, as it all starts to go down. I'm still not sure what to make of Maguire's performance. He certainly made an unsettling narrator at times, a product of his character's on-the-outside-looking-in-with-longing status.



So, yes, it's big. Yes, it's loud. Yes, it's amped up to the max (the scenes where the characters drive into Manhattan felt a little like the much-trailed Fast and Furious 6). Yes, it's flashy (and I only saw it in 2D). It's beautifully shot, though not everyone will enjoy Luhrmann's very stylised direction—but if you've seen any of his other films, you will know what you are getting yourself in for. As Daisy puts it early on in the movie, "all the bright previous things fade so fast." And after all the spectacle has died down, the viewer isn't left with a whole lot of substance. But with great costumes, great music, some good performances and a great show, I couldn't complain.

"I Didn't Pick a Side — It Was Picked for Me"

Although there hasn't exactly been a bumper crop of movies out this spring, I am still playing catch up from the two weeks I missed while I was on holiday in April. With The Great Gatsby pencilled in for Tuesday (it's gotta be done), the next film on my list is one that has had a lot less air time. They are, of course, very different movies, although the American Dream is an important theme in both Baz Luhrmann's new film and Mira Nair's The Reluctant Fundamentalist.

At the start of The Reluctant Fundamentalist, an American professor at a Pakistani university is kidnapped. Bobby Lincoln (Liev Schreiber) is a US reporter based in Lahore who is trying to work out what happened. As part of his investigation, he meets a young Pakistani man called Changez (Riz Ahmed), a colleague of the missing American's, who may be involved in the anti-American movement behind the kidnapping. Changez decides to help Bobby, but to do so involves him telling his own story. He asks Bobby to promise that he will listen to the whole story and not just selectively pull out the parts he wants to hear.

Ten years earlier and Changez has just graduated summa cum laude from Princeton, which he attended on a full scholarship. At an interview for one of the most prestigious financial consultancies in Manhattan, he manages to impress Jim Cross (Kiefer Sutherland), who hires him and eventually learns that his young protégé's name isn't pronounced changes. Changez loves his job and he loves New York. The other trainees like him, despite the fact that he is clearly the boss's favourite, although they are less uncertain when, during a conversation about what they plan to be doing in 25 years' time, Changez announces his ambition to be a military dictator. He meets a talented artist Erica (Kate Hudson), but never manages to get her contact details. Luckily, it turns out that her uncle is a bigwig at Changez's firm and he gets to meet her again. They fall in love, and although Erica has a lot of sadness in her past, they are happy together.

But just when Changez starts to realise his own American Dream, a couple of things happen. First (and we knew this was coming), September 11th happens. Changez is on a business trip at the time, but on his return to the US, he is forced to undergo a full strip search at the airport, and he soon comes to understand that the world he thought he loved—and belonged in—isn't really his world at all. Then, when he goes back to Pakistan for his sister's wedding, he is faced with his father's disapproval of his life in Manhattan and particularly his job. Meanwhile, he and Erica keep fighting about small things and about important things, and increasingly, it seems like they are mismatched. It's not just that they don't have much in common; their world-views and their values sometimes seem completely at odds.

Slowly, Bobby begins to learn more of Changez's true story. We know, of course, that Changez came back to Pakistan, but what was the final straw? And did his formative years in New York really prime him for a life of insurgency, or does he just find the concept of revolution to be interesting academically? Whereas Bobby as a journalist got to pick a side, Changez says that after 9/11, "I didn't pick a side — it was picked for me." And there are other twists in the tale as the hunt for the missing professor and the kidnappers closes in.

I found The Reluctant Fundamentalist to be interesting and thought-provoking, which is no mean feat in a saturated market of post-9/11 movies. Ahmed's performance carried the movie: he was powerful and complex, even if I found it a little hard to believe that present-day Changez was supposed to be 32. The other main cast didn't have a huge amount to do: Hudson's character just annoyed me, and Sutherland's caring capitalist and Schreiber's schlubby hack were almost paint-by-numbers characters. Although I enjoyed Changez's Manhattan flashbacks and their contrast with the Lahore scenes, when the film ended, I felt a good 20 minutes could have been cut without losing anything from the story. IMDb classifies the film as a thriller, but although it was engaging viewing, I wouldn't say I was exactly on the edge of my seat. Reflection on the sociopolitical and moral nature of contemporary Pakistan and USA isn't quite so catchy, of course.

The Caffeine Chronicles: Inversions

It's been over a year since I got my first Aeropress, and I'm now a complete convert, with one at home and one at my office. The next stages of coffee geekery took a little longer, however. I bought a bag of coffee beans at The Common Cup in Monteverde, Costa Rica, which came from a local farm and which had been roasted the day before. Because I wouldn't be getting home for another week, I didn't get the beans ground, and on my return, this prompted me to get a grinder at last. As I didn't have an unlimited coffee geekery budget, I went for a Cuisinart burr grinder, and I've been pretty happy so far. It took a little bit of experimentation before I found the right grind (not quite as fine as the grinder will go, but almost, for my 45-second steep time).

Cuisinart burr grinder and some Costa Rican coffee beans

So far, so good. It's been great drinking freshly ground coffee at home each morning. The grinding process is a little messy, but it's worth it.

The next step in the coffee geekery process was mastering the inverted Aeropress technique. The problem with the regular method (see this post) is that as soon as you pour the water into the chamber it starts to drip through before the coffee has had enough time to steep. The inverted method gets around this problem and gives you a richer, stronger brew. It's fairly straightforward, but a can be a little messy, so it's definitely best to practice in the kitchen if you usually make your Aeropress somewhere else.

First, grind a small amount of coffee—I use one scoopful of the scoop that came with the Aeropress; I'm not yet measuring by weight! Turn the plunger upside down, so that the rubber seal is facing up. I like to wet the seal with a little water. Turn the chamber upside down and gently press it over the seal, which should come to about the number 4.

Add your coffee into the top of the chamber and then add just-boiled water. I like to fill up to the number 1 mark. Give it a quick stir and then allow to steep. For my Costa Rican coffee, I like to steep it for 45 seconds. While it's steeping, I like to warm my mug with some hot water. I will then put one of the paper filters into the cap and pour a little hot water through the filter.

Put the cap on the top of the chamber and then, holding all of the apparatus in both hands, turn the Aeropress upside and onto the top of your mug. It's really easy for the rubber seal to come loose from the chamber so hold it firmly. Gently push the plunger through the chamber, stopping once you hear the rush of air and expel the rest of the liquid into the sink—this part tends to be over-extracted.

Depending on how strong you like your coffee, you may want to top up your mug with a little more hot water. I tend to add a little. Enjoy!

The next stages, of course, are buying a super-accurate kitchen scale and experimenting with a metal Aeropress filter. I'm a hopeless case...

Lost Above La Mancha

I really enjoyed Pedro Almodóvar's last movie, The Skin I Live in, even though it was more than a little dark and plenty creepy. With his new film, Los amantes pasajeros (I'm So Excited), he is trying something completely different. In fact, about the only thing I'm So Excited has in common with its predecessor is the partially overlapping cast, and I'm not sure Antonio Banderas's brief, one-scene cameo with Penélope Cruz at the start of the former really counts. I didn't plan to see I'm So Excited at all, after the middling reviews and, after seeing the trailer, I didn't think it was my kind of film, but BB wanted to see it, so off we went.

The plot is somewhat incidental, but involves a plane bound from Toledo to Mexico. Soon after take-off, the pilot (Antonio de la Torre) realises that there is a problem with one of the wheels (thanks to the shoddy job done by the ground staff, played by Banderas and Cruz) that will make landing the plane nigh-on impossible. Meanwhile, the newspaper headlines suggest that a big bank fraud may also be causing problems with many of Spain's airports. The world's campest stewards (Javier Cámara, Carlos Areces and Raúl Arévalo) decide to drug the economy-class passengers and stewardesses with muscle relaxants, because it's bad enough to be travelling cattle class, without them panicking about impending doom. Meanwhile, in business class, we have a motley crew of dominatrices (Cecilia Roth), actors (Guillermo Toledo), honeymooners (Miguel Ángel Silvestre and Laya Martí), and other characters with shady pasts and larger-than-life, often quite insane personalities. Many of the crew are bisexual and most of them are sleeping together. It's all a bit mad.

I found I'm So Excited more fun and funnier than I expected, although most of the time I was chuckling rather than laughing, at the crude toilet humour, the easy innuendos and the cheesy puns. There were some good lines, although some felt like the writer (Almodóvar) was trying too hard. This could have been partly due to the translation and I think the subtitler did a decent job with a hard-to-translate script. BB thought the best scene was the one where the three stewards perform the titular song, I'm So Excited, cabaret-style, to try to distract the business-class passengers from the aforementioned impending doom. It was amusing, although the impact was lessened somewhat by the trailer.

Overall, it was a wacky, entertaining enough 90 minutes, but The Skin I Live in is definitely more my kind of Almodóvar film. It would have been improved by more Banderas, for sure. Perhaps my biggest problem, though, was that throughout the film, I kept thinking about how much funnier and cleverer Airplane! was. I know Almodóvar wasn't trying to remake Airplane!, by any means, but I just felt like the latter was a lot more enjoyable.

Making a Weekend of It

It's been a bit non-stop since I got back from holiday—already over two weeks ago—and last weekend was no exception. After failing to find the Arrested Development frozen banana stand, which was supposed to be in London until 21 May, but which disappeared on Thursday, we stayed in on Friday night and made macaroons. Well, most of us watched macaroons being made and ate macaroons, which was just as much fun.

Yes, we have no banana stand in London today.

On Saturday morning, I went running and then it was time to finish off painting my living room and bedroom. Each room had a statement wall when I moved in last October, and I finally got around to dealing with them. A few weeks ago, I removed the wallpaper and then I spent most of the bank holiday weekend painting over the dark red paint of the bedroom and replacing it with a pale plum colour. The statement wall in my living room is now a light sky blue. On Saturday, I just needed to do a few touch-ups; it isn't perfect, but painters are expensive, so I'm happy, and now I can finally put up some more pictures and mirrors.

My newly painted bedroom

Blue-sky living room thinking

After heading into W1 to do some errands, I hurried down to Herne Hill for another bridge night, which chalked up another victory to my six-month winning streak. I had initially thought that Sunday might be more relaxed, but my parents decided to come into town at short notice, so we went for coffee at Notes, followed by brunch at the Dean Street Townhouse. I've been to the Townhouse before for dinner, which was lovely, but it has a great, New Yorky, casual chic vibe at brunchtime. Although I wasn't drinking, I enjoyed a virgin cocktail (the Orchid with apple, ginger, pineapple and almond was delicious). I skipped a starter and went straight on to the Townhouse burger, with cheese and bacon. It wasn't medium rare, but that hardly mattered because the meat was so juicy and tender.

Brunch o'clock: Dean Street Townhouse burger and the chocolate peanut fondant

Then came my dilemma: I had 45 minutes to get to south-west London for a softball practice and the pudding I wanted (chocolate peanut fondant, natch) would take seven minutes to prepare. Regular readers will know of my inability to say no to a chocolate-peanut butter combo, so I ordered the pudding and ran to the bathroom to change, Clark Kent-style, into my sports kit. The fondant ended up taking 15 minutes, but was well worth the wait: rich, gooey chocolate, with a molten peanut butter centre, accompanied by peanut ice cream. Very naughty indeed.

I just about made it to practice in time, by which time the sunshine had disappeared. I've never played softball before, although I used to play a lot of rounders at school. As expected, I proved a much better batsman than fielder, and every muscle in my body is aching today, while my wrist display the bruises that demonstrate how hard I was hitting the ball. Of course I'll be going back for more!

Spork: A Love Story

When JJ Abrams' Star Trek reboot came out four years ago, I went to see it and, to my surprise, I really liked it. It was the first time I had ever seen a depiction of the Star Trek universe, on the big or small screen, but this didn't affect my enjoyment. Four years on and the sequel, Star Trek into Darkness, has been released. I don't remember very much of the storyline of the 2009 film, but luckily, this didn't matter at all.

I think I enjoy these Abrams visions of the Star Trek world for the same reason I like a lot of Iain M. Banks novels: they are set in space and there are some aliens and weird futuristic/alt-universe things going on, but you don't have to be a hardcore sci-fi buff to enjoy them, because the characters are pretty relatable.

And STID is, on many levels, a bromance between the handsome hothead, Kirk (Chris Pine), and the infuriating intellectual, Spock (Zachary Quinto): Spork, if you will. As the film opens, our heroes are off on a mission that requires Spock to be sent inside an about-to-erupt volcano, but when he gets into some difficulty, Kirk has to decide whether to rescue him and risk the Enterprise being spotted by an indigenous people who have "barely invented the wheel" or leave him to doom. He decides to save his friend, of course, and although he succeeds in this, on returning to the Starfleet HQ, his ship and his captaincy are duly confiscated from him, thanks, in part, to Spock's inability to lie.

This barely matters after a deadly strike on a Starfleet archive in London, followed by a fatal attack on the vessel leaders, who have been meeting to discuss the tragedy. Kirk is tasked with taking the Enterprise, armed with 72 torpedoes, on a mission to find and destroy the superhuman bad guy (played by a wonderfully sinister Benedict Cumberbatch) responsible for the attacks. Spock is concerned about a minor thing called the criminal justice system, and Scotty (Simon Pegg) also voices his concerns about the mission, but Kirk is keen to prove himself again, and so off they go.

The plot itself is almost incidental: a vehicle to put some characters into scenes together and display some flashy visuals (and did I mention the lens flare?). I didn't go to see the film for the action scenes but they were well executed. Somewhat à contre-cœur I saw the film in 3D and I found it a bit distracting, not least because the aforementioned lens flare is even more annoying when it feels like it's floating around the cinema. The film clocked in at over two hours, but I didn't think it was too long, thanks to the tightly edited script and the sharp dialogue. Cumberbatch and Quinto really excelled, although Pegg still managed to steal a few scenes; as for Pine, I still haven't forgiven him for This Means War.

STID isn't a perfect film but it's jolly good fun. We will have to wait another three years for the threequel, but that's probably about the right spacing; let's face it, it wasn't as though there were any cliffhangers or otherwise unresolved plot points that will leave us on the edge of our seats until then.

Two Weeks in Costa Rica

The nice thing about Costa Rica is that it is small enough that you can see a lot of the key sights in two weeks. Most visitors head out of San José pretty quickly and then visit La Fortuna and the Arenal volcano and the cloud forests at Monteverde and Santa Elena. This itinerary takes about a week, leaving you with another week to spend on the beach, and this is when you have a choice to make: Pacific or Caribbean coast?  Although I was sorely tempted by the possibility of nesting turtles at Tortuguero on the Caribbean side, it wasn't turtle season, so we decided to do the Pacific beaches instead. You could just about fit in Tortuguero and  the Pacific, but it will be a bit rushed.

Here's how we organised our time. Most of these hotels were chosen through a combination of my guidebook (the latest Lonely Planet) and the top-rated properties on Booking.com, and for the record, most places offer pretty good free wifi and some form of free breakfast, and will help you organise activities and travel.

San José
When you fly to San José from Europe, you will almost certainly arrive in the city at night, which means staying there one night. A lot of the buses and excursions from San José leave early in the morning and, uncertain about jet lag, we decided to stay two nights in the city. We were starting to run out of things to do at the end of our first full day, but we left early the following morning. We also stayed for one night at the end of our trip.

Hotel Fleur de Lys, San José

Both times, we stayed in the eastern part of the city centre, which I would recommend, because it's quieter, cleaner and prettier. We first stayed at Hotel Fleur de Lys, which was great. It's a small hotel in a beautiful, rambling house, with shiny wooden floors and local art on the walls. There was a free breakfast buffet, full of goodies, from fresh fruits to breads and the usual rice and beans. The staff were extremely helpful and friendly. 

On our return, we stayed at the Hotel Aranjuez, which was slightly cheaper and a little less central, but still only 15 minutes walk to the Teatro Nacional. This hotel is formed of a series of interconnected houses and its labyrinthine hallways are a little hard to navigate, but the rooms are clean and comfortable, if a little spartan. A free and extensive buffet breakfast is served in the garden terrace each morning.

The breakfast buffet at Hotel Aranjuez, San José

La Fortuna and Arenal
We took a public bus from San José to La Fortuna, which cost $7 and took about four hours — not much slower than a private minibus — so I would recommend using public transport at this stage. Do keep an eye on your bag on the bus though, as the on-bus policeman warned us. 

We stayed at Hotel Campo Verde, at the base of the volcano and about six miles out of town. There isn't much in La Fortuna itself — most of the activities are outside, and transportation to and from your hotel tends to be included — but we did have a couple of $10 taxi journeys to go into town for dinner. 

This hotel was one of my favourites: the rooms are a series of canary-yellow cabins with private porches and amazing views of the volcano; we were in number 11, which had a front-row view. Breakfast is included and involves fruit and a choice of eggs on toast, yoghurt and granola or rice and beans.

Hotel Campo Verde, near La Fortuna/Arenal

In terms of activities in the area, several companies run combo tours: we did a four-in-one tour that included a river safari, a tour of the La Fortuna waterfall, lunch at a restaurant in town, a guided hike around the volcano and entry into and dinner at the Tabacón hot springs. At about $220, this isn't cheap but is an efficient way of combining multiple activities, especially if you would otherwise have to factor in the cost of taxis.


Monteverde
The best way to get between La Fortuna and Monteverde is by 'jeep-boat-jeep,' actually a minibus-boat-minibus service that takes you from your hotel to Lake Arenal, ferries you across the lake and delivers you to your hotel at the other end. This costs $25 and takes about three hours, saving a good 90 minutes' driving on very poor, rocky, unpaved roads.

Hotel Mar Inn, Monteverde

In Monteverde, we stayed at Mar Inn, which was a little more rustic than some of our other hotels, but clean and perfectly nice. The staff were very friendly and helpful and can arrange pretty much any kind of tour or transportation you might need. I enjoyed sitting in the hammock outside our room, watching the birds in the garden and enjoying the view over the town. NB: the hotel is pretty high up the hill and a short but very steep hike up from the town centre. Breakfast — scrambled eggs on toast or pancakes — was also included.


Tamarindo
While in Monteverde, we discovered that it's actually quite hard to leave the cloud forest. We wanted to go to the beaches of the Nicoya peninsula but all of the public buses involved long journeys with multiple changes. Nor was there a car hire place in Monteverde and it would cost $100 for a car rental company to drop a car off there for us to return to San José. We decided to spend the $100 on two tickets on one of the tourist minibuses to Tamarindo and the roads were so bad, we were glad we weren't driving.

El Sabanero Eco Lodge, near Tamarindo

Our cabin (the wifi didn't reach this far...)

Our hotel, El Sabanero Eco Lodge, was about 10 miles outside Tamarindo. Its main selling point is its amazing infinity pool, but the lodge was a nice place to hang out too. The rooms are small cabins, but not as pretty or well kitted out as at Campo Verde. I liked the cabins, though, even if it was a little disconcerting to wake up one night and find the cabin completely surrounded by a herd of cows! Don't come here without a car though; taxis into town are expensive and the buses are unreliable.

El Sabanero Lodge's amazing pool

Mal País
It is only about 100 miles from Tamarindo to Mal País, right down at the bottom of the Nicoya peninsula, but it took us most of the day to drive it. We drove to Playa Samara via the 'fast' (i.e. paved) roads and then went the scenic route for the rest of the journey, which involved almost no paved roads, lots of steep hills and several river crossings. But it was an adventure and the views were stunning! We were able to stop at a number of different beaches, and I really would recommend the drive — in dry season, of course.

Moana Lodge, including the sunset view from the cliff-top restaurant

In Mal País, we stayed at Moana Lodge, a lovely hotel on the cliffside above the town. The more expensive cabins have 180 views of the coastline; our room was lower down, but well appointed and with a nice terrace. There is a cute pool, hot tub and chill-out area and the beach is only minutes away. The hotel's key selling point is its restaurant, Papaya, perched on the clifftop and offering amazing views of the coast and the jungle. A good and well presented breakfast is included; we also went for dinner one night, enjoying a selection of tapas as we watched the sunset.


Montezuma
Originally, we planned to drive from Mal País to Quepos, via the Paquera–Puntarenas ferry, but after our epic road trip, we realised we had been too optimistic and had to cut our planned trip to the Manuel Antonio National Park, a real shame, because who doesn't want to to go a national park brimming with cute monkeys frolicking on the beach? With hindsight, I would have cut a day from La Fortuna or Monteverde to have time to visit Manuel Antonio.

The Ylang Ylang Beach Resort pool, Montezuma

Instead, we drove a little way along the coast to Montezuma, staying at El Sano Banano Hotel. The main attraction was the access to the pool, beach and facilities of the hotel's more luxe sister hotel, Ylang Ylang Beach Resort. El Sano Banano was cheap and cheerful — a little noisy at night but the pool was amazing.


Back to San José
To get back to San José, we drove 45 minutes from Montezuma to Paquera, where we caught the car ferry to Puntarenas, which took about 70 minutes and cost about $30. From there, it's only about 60 miles to San José. Because we were driving along Highway #1, we assumed the road would be relatively fast, but there was rarely more than one lane and we often slowed down to 20 mph. It was a scenic journey, though, and by this point we had learned to be grateful for small mercies: namely paved roads and no river crossings!

And now I just have to decide where to go on my next adventure!