Dearth in Venice
I AM more of a Florence man myself, though I don't feel so strongly as Jock
Bruce-Gardyne who, given the choice between Tokyo ano Venice, has flown non-stop to Tokyo. Ve. ice itself cannot be at its best when the leg, ndary chef of the Cipriani has to watch his t residential guest eating imported pre-fr 'zen burgers. Perhaps Mrs Thatcher's high profile break- fast gave the chef his chance. To me the overwhelming significance of the economic summit is that these things are so much easier to start than to stop. The first, a dozen years ago, seemed a good idea at the time: 'Nice to have seen you, Helmut, Harold! We must do this again."Yes, but next time, the drinks are on me — you all come to my place.' In a moment this becomes an annual tradition, a part of the international financial calendar, the venue solemnly rotating among the member countries, with others squawking and shov- ing for a place at table. They still serve the economically useful purpose of provoking member states to make gestures of respec- tability in advance. That apart, it seems apposite to meet in a city whose summit is below its high-water mark.
Previous page
