Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
"I've got two bottles of Champagne - this one, and this one called 'Krug'. Which one shall we open first?"
Well, being innocents, we opened the Krug and glugged it down, thinking it quite pleasant. The other - when opened - was a Big Yellow Taxi experience, and a sharp awakening about the comparative qualities of Champagne. Wrong order.
Someone (not unrelated to this post) gave me a two-pint bottle of Southern Comfort around the same time, but this really needs to be glugged down, which I and a couple of friends did over a one night period. Let's just say that - like Special Brew - it was an interesting experience which I have no intention of repeating.
At this time, I was obsessed with a romantic notion of Greece. Retsina was my wine of choice.
A wine so resinous, that you exuded incense from your very pores the whole of the next day.
I went to Athens and I ordered a half bottle of Retsina with my lunch. It wasn't just awful like ordinary Retsina, it was cloudy, vinegar and undrinkable.
I refused it and asked for a replacement. The waiter returned and said that was the last drop of Retsina in the house. Greece. No Retsina.
I blame Maxfield Parrish.
I am fed up with Google, sick of my acquaintances and tired of the people who profess to be my friends.