For Your Eyes Only

It's funny the moments in your life that your brain decides are worth retaining as memories, to be recalled years later.

I remember so many inconsequential details about the night I saw "For Your Eyes Only", my first Bond film. It's just snippets, really. I was six, maybe seven. I remember being in the video store and that it was my brother's pick for movie night. I can't remember what I picked.

I remember thinking that mines were going to be a much bigger issue when sailing than they turned out to be. It was also 100% responsible for my childhood fear that every sunken boat would have dead bodies on it. Childhood fear? Who am I kidding? Still an irrational fear that raises its head every time I think about learning to scuba dive.

What I really remember about the movie was Meteora. The place looked so magical. And to ride up the side of a mountain in a wicker basket?  What an odd bucket list I had as a child have. The wicker basket part of the bucket list is negotiable, but visiting Meteora is still on there.

That night was also the start of a life-long love of Bond, James Bond.

After the news out of Manchester yesterday, hearing about the passing of Roger Moore this morning left me numb. While he wasn't my favourite Bond, he was my first. Like kisses, hangovers, and the Doctor, you never forget your first.

Tonight, I'm drinking a Gin & Tonic (due to a lack of vermouth) and watching my first Bond in my first Bond film.

To Roger Moore.