High life
The battle of the Alps
Taki
Gstaad hathat strikes one most on arriving in Gstaad are the refugees from the Gulf war who are holed up here. Good old Helvetia has always been an island of peace during troubled times, and this war is no excep- tion. Take for example my friend Zogra- phos. He moved here the minute hostilities began back in January and plans to sit out `She's had a face-lift.' the duration of the war in his chalet. He is in excellent spirits and is bearing up far better than expected. Ditto for Vivian (Scud) Clore and her companion Jocelyn (Patriot) Stevens. The couple have unflinchingly followed the battles on CNN and courageously attended the various par- ties that mark the end of the Gstaad sea- son. Not to be outdone by such heroics, Sir Mark Weinberg and his Aussie wife have also visited, although they are now back at the front of the firing line in London.
Last but not least are the royal refugees. First the House of Savoy. Victor Emman- uel, its head, is an old Gstaad hand, as is his sister, Maria Gabriella. In view of the resolute manner the Italians fought the last war, it is not surprising the Italian royal family has spent its life in refugee resorts. There is also another sister, Maria Pia, who lives in Palm Beach.
Although we Greeks were always first and the spaghetti-benders the imitators, our kings have always done the reverse: 21 years after the last king of Italy quit the land of ravioli, the Greek monarch fol- lowed suit. Last week they were both in Gstaad enjoying the Alpine scenery.
And speaking of kings, the king of Harrods, Mohammed Fayed, is expected to arrive any minute. Fayed keeps a low pro- file in the Alps, and it's just as well. Most upper-class Arabs look the same, and what with the rumours that Madame Saddam is around, some fool could make a tragic mis- take.
Needless to say, there have been no Scud alerts throughout the season, but well- informed sources tell me that some regu- lars are taking no chances. Mr Roger Moore, of James Bond fame, is rumoured to possess a chemical warfare outfit, but my guess is that Roger is getting a bum rap. Nowadays chic ski-suits resemble the latest in war apparel, and rightly so. There is bad blood among the rich in the Alps.
Mind you, even the poor little Greek boy now looks like a man about to lead a com- mando raid into Baghdad, with the differ- ence being that my snow-suit cost more than those our brave men are wearing in the desert. I resisted for a very long time, but this week I finally gave in. I think it had a lot to do with people handing me their skis and expecting me to load them on to the tele-cabine. Now the only person left ski-ing in Gstaad without a moon outfit is William F. Buckley, but he's too well known by the refugees to be taken for a ski-loader. Oh well, perhaps it is because I look and am Greek.
Given the fact that I can only spend one week here, I'm taking advantage of the snow and drinking in moderation. The mother of my children is here, and my new- found sobriety has a lot to do with it. Or perhaps it is because I'm rather ashamed to be here. Nevertheless, watching CNN from here is more fun than watching it in Saudi or Amman, where all the hacks are. Thank God there are none of them in Gstaad.
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