The few places left that have fended off mass tourism and preserved their way of life， such as Ikaria， the plains of Castile， the wilds of Abruzzo， are， in reality， everything that our northern society， our managers， the IMF， businessmen， politicians—both Eurosceptics and Angela Merkel—despise. The politics of the EU （and Britain’s variation on its theme） are nothing if not a grinding of southern Europe； bludgeoning the south into abandoning its lazy ways， sprucing up， paying off its debt and Being like us！
And so our August holidays on cobblestones and land where the vine grows become very weird， as people go to play at the way of life their leaders—maybe even they themselves—are destroying. Many of those from Britain， America， Germany and elsewhere this weekend setting off to savour the southern life are the politicians， bankers， lawyers， managers， civil servants， thinktank “brains”—newspaper columnists indeed—who have decided， generally if not individually， that our Anglo-American way of capitalism is the only way to go. Fuelled， it sometimes feels， more by some combination of cocaine， Red Bull and Viagra than aromatic coffee， a cool aperitif and an afternoon snooze.
But in August， we leave our frantic modus vivendi behind， to enjoy theirs. “Oh， look at those little old men playing chess on the pavement—so sweet！”“Campari-soda per favore！”“Tasha， you must try the époisses， it’s divine！”“I so love the way they whizz about on scooters without helmets and no one wears seat belts—it’s such fun！” Then September comes， back to balancing the books， the shareholders’ interests， the“aggressively managed portfolio”， the FTSE and Dow Jones. That’s enough Caravaggio and mortadella for one year， time for a new austerity package—those lazy bloody Latins…