The cheerful, nattily dressed Englishman checking out at my hotel in Mykonos as I was checking in with my daughter looked shocked as he scrutinised his bill: ‘What’s the VAT? Twenty-four percent? How can that be?’
I instantly violated my pledge to my daughter not to embarrass her by talking politics on vacation. ‘You can thank Wolfgang Schäuble and the Germans,’ I told the man. ‘Austerity politics and all that.’ My new acquaintance pondered what I was saying — ‘Is that so?’ he said, or something to that effect — then quickly changed the subject to the charm of cobblestone and the local nightlife. I didn’t ask him how he had voted on Brexit, but I wish I had, for an incendiary political idea was beginning to form in my mind. Greece badly needs help, and right now the only potential saviour I see on the horizon is a reinvigorated Britain with a bold foreign policy to match its declared independence from the Eurozone.

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