One month from today we shall know where the next-but-one summer Olympic Games will be held. My English friends who live in London hate the thought that they might be held there except those who can go away and let out their houses or apartments for some exorbitant fee.
Anyway, a sizeable minority (about a third) of Londoners and almost the same proportion in the UK as a whole are hoping, with good reason, that London won't win. The Athens Games eventually cost the Greek population between $10 and $12 billion and the Chinese have budgeted $23 billion for the 2008 Olympic games – seven times more than the Sydney games. What chance is there of London sticking to its present guess of $4.33 billion?
For me, the English venue for the sailing - the only sport that interests me - sounds pretty dreary (Weymouth) and I'd be happier if the games went to Paris - the French will have the sailing events in La Rochelle which would be much nicer.
Back at the tiller
Nice to get back on the boat again after all that fooling around in the snow though the first day out was a disaster as we had to run before a storm, shelter in Fundy and ride it out at anchor off St John.
Actually it wasn't as bad as all that because Jean Delaunnay was with us and although he's a rotten sailor he is of course the best chef in Massachusetts (he says in North America) and with Tasha's help cooked some superb meals for the three of us. They laughed at me when I had a huge freezer put in the boat when we ordered it but now they have to admit it was a good idea because Jean had plenty of supplies to work with though in his restaurant he never uses any frozen stuff.
And we had five bottles left of the case of 1997 Gruaud Larose St. Julien that Jean's father gave me for my birthday. Jean says it's a crime to keep it on the boat being shaken around so we decided we had to polish it off. It took us two very enjoyable days about which I don't remember very much.
Actually it wasn't as bad as all that because Jean Delaunnay was with us and although he's a rotten sailor he is of course the best chef in Massachusetts (he says in North America) and with Tasha's help cooked some superb meals for the three of us. They laughed at me when I had a huge freezer put in the boat when we ordered it but now they have to admit it was a good idea because Jean had plenty of supplies to work with though in his restaurant he never uses any frozen stuff.
And we had five bottles left of the case of 1997 Gruaud Larose St. Julien that Jean's father gave me for my birthday. Jean says it's a crime to keep it on the boat being shaken around so we decided we had to polish it off. It took us two very enjoyable days about which I don't remember very much.
Dopes on the slopes
Haven't done any blogging lately as we've been in Europe, including three weeks in Klosters. Tasha's got a new camera and was very proud of this one of me.While we were there a mob of British royals turned up: Prince Charles, his two sons and a great retinue of servants, bodyguards and hangers-on. Fortunately we weren't staying at the Walserhof where they were, but an English friend of ours was, and said it was a nightmare: they are an arrogant, stupid, selfish bunch, he told us, and the thought of Charles becoming King appals him. In fact, he said, the sooner we (the British) get rid of all the Windsors the better. Not by firing squad, he hastened to add; he is a kind and gentle man, though like most English aristocrats he loves killing animals.
Anyway, as an American it was not for me to agree or disagree, but I did point out that if they went he would lose his hereditary title. Not really, he replied, other European monarchies were disposed of years ago but there are still plenty of Counts, Princes, Grand Dukes and so on swanning around Europe, so he wouldn't have to start calling himself "Mr". But he agreed that it wouldn't be quite the same.
