THE GUARDIAN: Since the outbreak of the Greek crisis, the country's moneyed class has been notable mainly by its absence
Scudding across the turquoise waters of the Argo-Saronic gulf, Ioannis Arnaoutis singled out the pearl-white sands of a little bay. The shore glistened in the midday sun. "It was especially imported from Asia by the owner of the mansion above the bay," said the boatman, one hand on the steering wheel of his water taxi, the other pointing in the direction of the cove. "It's a private beach, which is why there is only one umbrella on it."
Nearly three years into their country's worst crisis in modern times, life goes on as normal for Greece's super-rich. As the sun sets, oligarchs, shipowners, singers and media stars gather at the Poseidonion hotel on the island of Spetses opposite the little bay. They tuck into a menu that includes pasticcio laced with foie gras. Among them is a middle-aged man in a T-shirt proclaiming: "More is less".
Three days before Greeks cast their ballots in a make-or-break election, their country could not be more divided. Here there is no talk of the pain of crisis – the only topic of conversation elsewhere in Greek society. The destitution and despair of Athens is a world away – and for many quite clearly it is best kept that way.
"Greeks brought this crisis upon themselves," said a London-based shipowner upholding the sector's vow of silence by insisting on anonymity. "They allowed crooks and corruption to prosper." » | Helena Smith in Spetses | Wednesday, June 13, 2012