High life
Friendless
Taki
dIbehind feel like an agent operatingemy lines in a friendly occupied co1111- try. I've never seen so many mortal enemies, not even back home in Greece. First of all there is a man whom I shall call Johnny Christmas, a giant French hustler who has been known to have sent more Peo- ple to the poor-house than the Blanc brothers, Cyril Stein, John Aspinall and Frank Sinatra — if it's true that he owns a casino in Las Vegas — put together. Business must be good for him because he s driving a Mercedes 500 and has rented a chalet for the season. Johnny Christmas's pretty lucky fellow. To earn one's living in a place as beautiful as Gstaad is providential. He also improves on his luck by being one of the best mechanics in the business. Christmas hates me with a passion because he knows I know how he makes his living He hates me even more because I tel
everyone that they should count their fingers and check their watches and any valuables as soon as they shake hands with him. Even so, people line up to play him. As luck would have it the first person I ran into when I arrived here was Christmas. Although a giant of a man, Christmas won't Fight, unless for money. So 1 habitually insult him with impunity, and this time was no exception. While my friend Zographos and his bride talked to him and kept him occupied, I relieved myself on his brand new Mercedes while a crowd of Swiss Skiers watched in fascination. But Christmas did not fall for the bait. He drove off in a huff, and as luck would have it the rain came down, ruining the skiing and, more importantly, washing his car.
My next encounter was with the pocket Pole paedophile, Roman Polanski. Now I don't mind Polanski too much, but I don't like to see him in Gstaad. This used to be the most beautiful village in the world, and the safest. But, how can 1 in all conscience send my little daughter skiing knowing that the Pole is in the vicinity? He is a good s.kier, however, and he does earn his living In a way that would make some of the Crooks here blush with shame.
-Up at the Palace — the best hotel in the world, as far as I am concerned — things are better. The service is so good that one forgets how small and intimate the Palace once was. The waiters and personnel have known me since my youth, and I spend my time telling stories of past escapades and Pointing out to them that an old Gstaad hand, a man we all knew as Dick Desur- nmnr, has now become Richard de Sur- mont, and a count to boot. Dick's father was something of a celebrity when I first met him 25 years ago. Nobody would speak to him and no club would allow him through their doors. So Michel Desurmont, now deceased, bought a yacht and sat on it, forlorn and miserable. His crime was that he had collaborated with the Germans and Made a lot of money during the war. Given the fact that most rich Frenchmen had done exactly the same thing I felt rather sorry for him. when I inquired why he was picked on I was told that not only had he collaborated like everyone else, but he had done it in an °Pen and disgusting manner by giving a Weekly grand dinner at Maxim's. Well, I think I understand. One can cheat but one cannot brag about it — or be photographed arrn-in-arm with the Germans. I'll try and remember that next time. .Despite the presence of hustlers, social climbers, even phony counts, Gstaad is still the nicest resort. The Eagle Club, however, Will never be the same for me again. The old President, Le Vicomte Benoist d'Azy, died last week, leaving everyone very sad, and Poor little Taki with no protection. Le Vicomte hated everything I like — in other Words he was a gentleman of the old school. When hen my friend Zographos and I covered the rightful owner of Shergar with cream, a,,,nd decided that the British Ambassador to trousers) was overdressed (we took off his trousers), there was an uproar. But the
Vicomte said that we were young, had drunk too much firewater, and that we should be allowed to do it once a year, no more. I still have some friends on the com- mittee, but with David Niven resigning things are starting to look grim for me. Pretty soon I won't even be allowed to in- sult people like Johnny Christmas.
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