Magazine article The Spectator


Magazine article The Spectator


Article excerpt

I used to keep Bushido in the port of St Tropez but moved to Palma in Spain because the Frogs kept upping the ante. In other words the fix was in.

Pay more for your berth or we'll give it to a Russian. The port captain's name was Fauconnier, Falconer in English, and he sure knew how to strike. Never mind, a man's got to earn a living.

I first went to St Tropez in the Fifties.

Needless to say it was a sleepy little fishing village, albeit already famous for Brigitte Bardot's film. The port was one third the size of today, and handled mostly sailing boats.

The environs of the town had not yet been built up. What I don't understand about the mayor's plans to shrink the beaches where restaurants are allowed is the following.

Club 55 and the other so-called chic places are vital to the town's economy. Without it the rich will not come and moolah will not be spent. Who will replace the income? The ecologists? Somehow I do not think so. I think perhaps a bigger fix is in, things like Club Med or something similarly awful.

Mind you, I gave up on St Tropez because of the Russian, Arab and Far East nouveaux riche. Their disgusting manners and even more disgusting boats have turned the place into a nightmare for a gentle soul with a beautiful sailing boat like the poor little Greek boy. …

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