Ibiza—This island is the Spanish equivalent of the Greek sex rock of Mykonos, except its waters are murkier, its nightclubs and restaurants far more expensive, but its hookers first class and not to be compared to anything selling itself in Greece. Why that is so, I don’t know, but Greece gets the dregs where the world’s oldest profession is concerned, whereas Ibiza and Spain reign supreme. No, I did not indulge, but I ...
Back in the very early 60s there was an uninhabited islet off the west coast of Greece by the name of Skorpios. It was wild, with neglected olive groves, and its asking price was around 60 thousand dollars. Step forward, Aristotle Socrates Onassis, who snapped it up and for good measure put some pocket change in for the even tinier Sparti Island next door. From the large Ionian island of Lefkas one can swim to Skorpios in less ...
An American friend who is very well connected in Washington, D.C. was telling me he's worried about Europe. So what else is new, I said. "No, I really mean it, future generations could grow up under Islamic rule." It was a John McEnroe moment, as in you can"t be serious. He assured me he was. Let's see, anything is possible, but an Islamic Europe? Well, Brussels is 40 percent Muslim, and there are 5.5 million ...
Gstaad—Can somebody tell me when was the last time America got it right? Uncle Sam’s track record in selecting leaders in faraway places reminds me very much of my own, where libel is concerned: Plaintiffs 5, Taki 0. Let’s see, the good Uncle overthrew Mohammad Mossaddegh in Iran back in the early 50s in order for the Shah to become his man in Persia. The Shah went gallivanting in St. Moritz, threw very expensive parties ...
Gstaad—In this freewheeling Swiss village of the 1950s, the unconventional was the norm, monumental drinking commonplace, but the manners of the players were always impeccable. Yes, there were ladies of lower-class parentage and of a dubious past, but they covered it up with a grand manner and an affected aristocratic confidence they had learned through experience. That’s how things were back then; the slags that pass for ...
Porto Cheli—Nothing is moving, not a twig nor a leaf, and I find myself missing the cows, the mountains, and the bad weather. The sun has become the enemy, a merciless foe who can only be tolerated when swimming, something I do daily and for close to an hour. Nothing very strenuous, mind you, except for an all-out 50-stroke crawl toward the end. For someone who has swum every year since 1940, I’m a lousy swimmer. Not as bad ...
Porto Cheli—I have been thinking about my children and my own strange boyhood as I gaze up at the clear blue skies of summer. Summers lasted an eternity back then, and by the time one got back to school there were new friends, new loves, and new discoveries of things unknown the previous May. For example, I had seen my father kiss a very pretty woman whose name was French, Raimonde, a blonde beauty who was engaged to dad’s ...
Ask any Greek about the Turks and the best you"ll get is a grimace. More often than not the answer will be a swear word and the word "barbarians" thrown in for good measure. Ditto the Congolese when the word "Belgium" comes up, not to mention the Algerians when discussing la belle France. The Indians do not play this game. They always considered themselves superior to the British, who more or less lorded it ...
I am looking out my window at the green landscape and forested mountains rising beyond, as peaceful a scene as there is in this troubled world, but this is Switzerland, a country that hasn’t fought a war in 700 years, resisting both Napoleon and Hitler through friendly persuasion and by having banks that don’t talk. No longer. The new big bully on the block, Uncle Sam, in cahoots with the vermin that are the EU, is forcing ...
I wagered a Takimag writer that the New York Times and its international excuse for a newspaper would report on anti-Semitism in Europe the minute the civilian dead in Gaza reached 1000. I won the bet exactly two days after I made it, and two days after the glorious Israeli army managed to kill 1000 Palestinians, mostly women and children in Gaza. Celestine Bohlen, the Paris-based reporter for the Times, was obviously ...
One event I regretted missing on my last visit to London was a party at the Polish Club, which has been refurbished and has a new Polish prince as its president and has good Poles and active members such as Ladies Belhaven and Hamilton, both friends of mine, keeping the home fires burning. I have often written about my love for Poland, a heroic country that has been betrayed by everyone throughout its history, but has always ...
Boo to the C.I.A.! It got caught spying on Germany and its top man in Berlin has been sent home. What I"d like to know is, what's so important about Berlin's open-book policies that we had to play dirty with them? Maybe our ex-top man in the German capital should now concentrate on weeding out Israeli spies in Washington. It would make more sense, as Israel does spy on its benefactor, protector, and major ally, whereas ...
I write this on July 14, France’s big day, and on the 25th anniversary of my father’s passing. He died at dawn, on the bicentennial of the uprising, as if he couldn’t bear French triumphalism over the foul event one more second. Actually he had a massive heart attack as he was preparing to go off on his boat. His butler found him and that was that. I think of him and certainly dream of him quite a lot, and I’m now ...
Island of Rhodos—When I’m on the water, I feel I was born to it. Yachting has always been a way to enjoy the sea and the nature associated with it. The motion through water, the breeze and spray on the face, the anticipation of a landfall, the sheer beauty of leaning into the wind and watching the bowsprit plunge in and then emerge shaking water off itself like a puppy, these are some of the pleasures. Well, I’m on a ...
To Fort Belvedere for a ball that most likely will discourage any more balls because of its brilliance and perfection. Galen and Hilary Weston, who lease the historic house, once the playground of Edward VIII and the venue where he signed the Instrument of Abdication in front of his three brothers, are amazing hosts. In this age of gushing exhibitionism, their restraint and good taste leave one speechless upon arrival. On a ...
The greatest criminal and most profitable enterprise the world over is FIFA. I write this as billions are watching obscenely overpaid footballers competing for a cup that is long overdue for a total remake. It was a very good idea long ago, but so was selective democracy and waging war with bows and arrows. Let's take it from the top: The head gangster is Swiss and goes by the name of Sepp Blatter. Like his name, he's straight ...
