A further attempt to understand why people like shite.

So, a friend of mine (who happens to be a gentleman somewhat older than myself) is a big fan of pop music, and I've taken it upon myself to try to find out why. At some point during a conversation, X-Factor came up. That's right - it's not just regular pop music he likes, like say, Lady Gaga who, previously in this blog I've confessed to and attempted to defend a liking of, but it's the empty headed, personality-less talent-holes who enter this glorified karaoke contest he calls himself a fan of.

"You can't deny that Leona Lewis has a great voice," he tells me, all knowing. Well, friend, just watch me. So she's technically proficient, but is that all it takes nowadays? If I close my eyes, I can hear all of them - Lewis, Alexandra Burke, um, erm. Ah. I was going to list others but I've forgotten them all. They're all clones of the standard wobbly-voiced diva. The originals - Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Celene Dion and similar are also horrific, but at least they're professionals. Leona Lewis just copied the template and managed to fool the morons who take the time to vote for these empty vessels.

Doesn't anyone want a bit of substance, a bit of feeling, or something more original? The breathless Polly Scattergood, the unique and astonishing Neko Case? Case's Deep Red Bells has a vocal that frankly shits all over Bleeding Love from a great height. You want a bigger range? The magnificent Florence Welch has a voice which is practically operatic. Unfortunately, my friend had not heard of any of these. Although, I'd wager he's probably heard of Florence and the Machine by now. OK, we'll go with someone well known then - Kate Bush. "Nah," he says. "She's weird."

It's at this point I give up. He, like so many others, prefers to wallow in the dull, repetitive world of mainstream pop, listening to music that was recorded to make money as opposed to being a timeless piece of art, dismissing anything with a hint of feeling or originality as 'weird'. Well, balls to him and all others like him.

Impressions of Zakynthos.

The Greek islands are undoubtedly our favourite place to go on holiday. We've been to four so far - Kefalonia, Samos, Thassos and Skopelos, each one being quieter and more remote than the last. That's how we like it - not touristy, just secluded and peaceful, with long walks to lose ourselves in. This, obviously, was before we had Katie. We've recently been to Zakynthos, our fifth island, and it wasn't what we were used to. It was actually a present from my parents, who also paid for my sister and her partner and their son, making eight of us all together. With small children to consider, we stayed in the resort of Alykanas on the North of the island. This resort is clearly designed with the family in mind - our complex had several pools, one of which had a slide, a park on site and was built literally on the edge of the beach - built to make things easier when managing a family. It's also very noisy, with the on site 'entertainment' echoing through the evenings and making it nearly impossible to enjoy a little quiet time on the balcony after Katie's gone to sleep. Greece is much more expensive now than it used to be as well, but the people are mostly just as lovely as ever.

The weather was odd, with the first week being cloudy for much of the time with occasional rain, and the second week being dry and consistently in the mid thirties. In a way, it worked out well, as the first week gave the kids a chance to acclimatise themselves to the heat before the scorching second week. The resort seemed to be designed with the intention of attracting a particular type of English family, and in fact during the second week almost every man I saw was shaven-headed, white, massive and covered in tattoos. Thanks to the World Cup (yawn) almost every bar had huge wide screen TVs blaring out tedious football matches. The way there were so many people on the streets trying to give you leaflets and attempting to get you into their bars and restaurants reminded me very much of a holiday a friend and I took in Ibiza in my dim and distant teenage years.

I knew that this was simply the way this resort had been designed and I knew that my Greece was still out there somewhere, but I couldn't help feeling like my Greek holiday experiences had been tainted a little. This all sounds extremely ungrateful for what was in essence a free holiday I know, but there was also much to recommend. Between all the noise there were many small moments of bliss when the Greece I know and love came back to me - the food was as outstanding as ever (backlavas - drool), and a day exploring the South of the island at Porto Zoro and Gerakas (where the turtles come) was a highlight, as was a trip by boat to the famous Zakynthos shipwreck - that beach is extraordinary.

Katie absolutely adored it and spent her time playing on the numerous parks, splashing about and swimming in the pools and the sea, digging holes and building sandcastles on the beach or scoffing her face with ice-cream and Greek salad. And this, I guess, is the point. Our holidays won't be for ourselves for many years yet - they'll be for Katie and soon Emily. Even though I've been fairly critical and I've pined for the Greek holidays I used to have, as long as Katie has so much fun, it's worth it.