Postcard From Rhodes
Guy de la Bédoyère Sitting on a beach on the north coast of Rhodes in the last week of October, the sight is enough to warm the cockles of a British airport manager’s heart. One Boeing 737 and Airbus A320 series machine after another joins the circuit to come down at the airport. Every one of them is carrying a couple of hundred more willing punters and representing money and jobs for the local economy. And meanwhile what’s happening in Britain? One glance at the news and I learn that Mark Drakeford has thrown Wales back hundreds of years into half-demented medieval superstition. Totally unable to concede to himself and anyone else the basic reality that coronaviruses are beyond the wit of man to do any more than inhibit, he has decided the best thing to do is lead the pack in the race to the bottom of economic destruction in the crazed belief that finally COVID-19 will get the message that he means to destroy it with futile gestures. While the Welsh wrap up microwaves and socks in supermarkets to stop anyone buying them, the citizens of Rhodes are operating more or less normally. Mind you, we didn’t get here without some trouble. Both the British and Greek governments are subscribing to the ‘we’re not here to enjoy ourselves’ ...