|
|
|
|
|
TENNIS, IN A SQUASH COURT?
Want to make your legs feel like Aquafresh toothpaste? Try Padel. A racket sport born in Acapulco, it's now going local (see what we sort of did there?) down in, erm, Yardley. Absolutely enormous in Spain it essentially consists of a tennis court with walls around it which ensure the bloody ball refuses to go out of play. Actually that's not strictly true, winning a point is easier than it sounds and the game is nowhere near as repulsive and injury-inducing as squash, and infinitely easier than tennis (underarm serves mean you can't 'Andy Roddick' your cowering opponent). There are only 35 courts in the country and four are in Brum, the biggest Padel facility in the UK so far and the only indoor facility outside London. We booked a quick class to guarantee we had the rules right and once we had them down it was... wait for it... smashing fun (*Roger Moore eyebrow*). Lends itself brilliantly to doubles. Give it a try or consider yourself a custard of the cowardy variety. Website
|
|
|
|
|
LITTLE ITALY, IN THE MAILBOX
According to the World Tourism Organisation, Italy received over 50 million visitors last year. Whether or not you were one of them, you'll be on the receiving end of a right proper Mediterranean reception at Harvey Nichols in November, and in particular, this Saturday. To salute the launch of the team's British-Italian hamper hoorah (the Dolce Eater is pictured), there'll be a Britalia Prosecco and Peroni bar — serving up exactly what you'd expect — at a cost of no lira and no pence. In addition to all sorts of gifts, there'll be Italian inspired dolce vita makeovers by Estée Lauder, a selection of treatments from Good Life Barbershop, food and wine tastings, plus lessons in crafting Disaronno's Etro Sour. Molte bene!
|
|
|
|
|
MOVIE OF THE WEEK: ARRIVAL
With Prisoners and Sicario, Canadian director Denis Villeneuve has quietly been carving himself out a niche as a deliverer of classy, visually impressive thrillers (he’s the one cause for optimism about the forthcoming Blade Runner sequel), but he’s on cerebral form here. A brace of mysterious alien craft appear at seemingly random places on Earth, and Amy Adams is the linguist brought in to attempt communication with their tentacled crew. It’s not the end-of-the-world thriller it sounds like, but instead a thoughtful – at times chilly – meditation on communication and, ultimately, free will. This is high-end stuff, with Adams fantastic, and a wonderful score from Icelandic composer Johann Johannsson. Times
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
