Like everyone else, I might as well get my two-cents in while the story’s still hot. About the sainted one’s problems with Liverpool, that is. What a crock! I might be accused of pandering, but to hell with them. When I went over the top about the Puerto Rican parade some time ago, it looked
Boston The Boston, Melbourne, Oxford Universities Conversazioni on Culture is a stimulating series of talks which takes place every year in one of the three venues. This year’s topic was ‘Power Without Responsibility: Was Kipling Right? The Press.’ Yours truly was invited to be one of the speakers alongside worthies such as Andrew Roberts, Kenneth
New York Except for the people, this is a wonderful time of year to be in the Bagel. Summer’s blistering heat has gone the way of Britain’s Davis Cup hopes — tiny Austria, using natives, has just eliminated big-bully Britain, which was using Gurkhas like Rusedski — the days are getting shorter but crisper, and
Athens The first gold medal goes to The Spectator for last week’s leader ‘First gold to Greece’. My country had been unfairly maligned by Western hacks —those pure sportsmen who gracefully hurdle over bar stools while busy filing phony expense accounts — but (with fingers crossed) Hellas has been vindicated. Whoever wrote the leader will
Gstaad Sorry to bore you, but more about Poles. In all the years I’ve been writing ‘High life’, no column of mine has had such a positive response as ‘Pole position’, of three weeks ago, which is a record for yours truly. Poles in general and Taki in particular are not everyone’s favourites, but this
On board S/Y Bushido I know, I know, it’s a bit much, filing from one’s yacht — but, what the hell, it’s not every day that hacks own boats. One thousand, one hundred square metres of sail, 125ft-long overall, steel hulled and very fast downwind, she is my latest pride and joy, now that I’ve
Athens The birthplace of selective democracy is looking better than it has since the Fifties, when the modernists took over. The ancient capital will be ready on 13 August, the Games will take place, and the American basketball freaks will stay home, which is the best news I’ve had since Bill Clinton was impeached. (His
New York I was a bit tough on American women last week, but when I sat down to write I hadn’t as yet heard of Michael Bergin. Now I have, and I take everything back. Give me a shrill woman talking about whitening her teeth any day. Bergin is the lowlife who has just published
New York And now for Rosebud, the single childhood incident that will illuminate us as to why Saddam did what he did. His was the kind of life Freudian complexes are made of, except for the fact old Saddy had no complexes. If I were to guess, I imagine some North American Man Boy Love
New York Boy, oh boy! The Christmas double-issues come quickly now. Once upon a time the run-up to the holidays was unending, with non-stop parties up to the final explosion on New Year’s Eve. No longer. Now Christmases come and go quicker than you can say tempus fugit, which in a way is better for
Washington, DC By all accounts the American Conservative’s first anniversary party went off without a hitch. My friend Prince Radziwill came over for it, as did Charlie Glass, a very nice thing for both men to do, not to mention Major Chris Meyers, a tough Marine officer who flew from Los Angeles. Well, not to
An email from Sir Roger Moore concerning two prominent Hollywood Hungarians whom I failed to mention last week. Did you know that Bernie Schwartz, aka Tony Curtis, was Hungarian? As was the wonderful director Michael Curtiz. The latter pronounced the words ‘Bring on the empty horses’ during the shooting of The Charge of the Light
Gstaad There seems to be a touch of autumn in the air, a damp, still greyness. How quickly summers drift away nowadays. Typically, my boat is just about ready to be launched, now that my thoughts are turning inward, towards Mittel Europa, Vienna and the Danube to be exact. Richard Bernstein, writing in the New
Gstaad Talk about dumbing down. Here’s a moron commenting on Sky following the Greek victory in the women’s javelin: ‘Oi didn’t know Greeks could speak English, not that oi can speak Greek….’ Miréla Manjani is an articulate young Greek woman who won the gold medal in the World Athletics Championships in Paris last week. She
Gstaad All Quiet on the Western Front was written in 1929 and became an instant best-seller; in Germany alone more than 3 million copies were sold within 18 months. Hollywood made a film of it the following year and it won an Oscar for Best Picture. I read it during the closing days of the
Gstaad The bad news is I had yet another birthday – 67 – along with my friend Claus von Bulow, who hit a double seven. Claus, incidentally, has turned into a fine theatre critic in his mature years, reviewing with grace and insight and quoting from the numerous wits and wise men and women he
Gstaad I remember it as if it were yesterday. Rodney Solomon, a friend no longer with us, came into the Clermont club all huffy and puffy and dressed in a morning coat, refused an invitation to lunch, and announced that he was off early to the wedding of ‘my great friend Sally Curzon to Piers
Gstaad After the heat of the French Riviera and of the birthplace of selective democracy, the Alps are a welcome relief – up to a point. I am here on a family holiday, family being the operative word. Which means that neither my daughter nor son tolerates any hanky-panky, if you know what I mean.
Athens The city of Pallas Athena is in the midst of a great rebirth, as if Zeus himself had decreed it. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would have bet my last euro against Athens meeting the Olympic challenge, and I would have lost. Big time. The place is bustling and
St Tropez Like Rick, when asked why he would come to Casablanca for its non-existent waters, I presume the hack was misinformed. An item in the Evening Standard’s Londoner’s Diary had me announcing that I had gatecrashed Lynn Forester de Rothschild’s party for the Clintons. ‘Dearest Taki,’ writes Lynn. ‘You lied! Of course you were