Monday 18th April 2011
In a mad dash – so much to do in Rome. I thought I’d been coming here often in recent years, but it turns out I haven’t. Full of wonder and sudden joy. It’s best to be elevated. Sonny’s got a millionaire roof terrace. So has the Hotel Raphael, which I penetrated yesterday. There’s a way of entering great hotels when you’re not a guest. Here are some graphs of the private views. You need private views. I’ll tell you why later.
I’ve got a new camera.
I’ve been in outfits too and, great merciful Lord, have known a high outfit satisfaction rate. On Saturday I showed my Prada Red coat with the petrol sheen of slubbed silk (artificial); yesterday I gave that Jil Sander grey shirt with the black trim (just a wheeny bit Nazi) which I lurked near for weeks in H Nicks until it was slashed and re-slashed in price.
I’m staying with Sonny Hammond, one of the Australian Poor Little Rich Gays. They can be even more terrifying that the European ones: ferociously critical of any tiny flaw in a finish or lack of champagne and more wildly in need of pills should they career off the rails. Sonny’s not quite like that; he’s more in touch with the painful side. He said: ‘We’ll take the motorino.’
It was a Vespa, a motorbike-lette. Utter terror, down the hill to the Piazza Venezia. I was thinking of the wrecking of all that designer frockage should we crash.
Come back tomorrow: there’s so much to tell – rare sightseeing, in fact. I know – I’ve kept quiet about that.
Exclusive View of St Peter's Rome from the Roof Terrace of the Hotel Raphael - Better Picture
Sonny's Private View of the Back of St John the Lateran: Weird Stone Creatures Stalking the Earth
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These are splendid views, and the light is magnificent. But I suspect your readers will want your attention to return to that seedy-looking terrace with the peculiar sun-lounger.
Dear Adrian Edge
Could you give guidance please on whether you would like us to join the banter between an Adrian Eldge and an Adrianna Edgberg, which continues to flicker in the comments section of a moderately uneventful post from several days ago?
I think it’s thrilling that you have been cyber-cloned in this way. But I am happy to be scandalised if you would prefer.
N Taudevin
I can’t make head or tail of them. They seem to be obsessed with this horse-woman who was slightly known to Robert Nevil and on whose death he happened to commentate live. In no other way did she impinge on our lives that I can recall.
I don’t know who you are but I suspect you are one of the Australian Poor Little Rich Gays masquerading as an unlikely tree. You know Sonny and you’ve getting at him. That terrace is utterly exclusive and costs the earth, as well as being expertly gardened by Sonny himself. I won’t hear another word against it.