Last week we were in the snow and sub zero temperatures of Davos, and I found myself hobnobbing in the exclusive Swiss mountain resort.
The ice in the Martini's was warmer
To paraphrase what they say when they're doing the football results on the news before Match of the Day, if you can't bear name-dropping look away now:
On the night before we recorded the Blair interview, Downing Street said I could attend the same, small gathering that the prime minister was going to.
In a room not much bigger than my living room, I wandered in, picked up a glass of wine and looked around.
Surely it wasn't my shoes..?
There was a bloke in front of me, about my age who looked vaguely familiar.
So I said a casual hello, and he said hello back.
And then that awful, dawning realisation that the reason I thought I knew him was because - well because - he was the Duke of York.
And as I looked around the room it was like being in a living Madame Tussaud's museum.
So there was Rupert Murdoch with his charming Chinese wife. Oh, hi Bono.
Bono is a hugely popular ambassador
And then Bill and Melinda Gates wandered towards me.
I spoke to a charming woman in African attire, and caught myself just in the nick of time from what would have been an even more glorious faux pas.
I was a second away from asking what she did, when I noticed she was wearing an identity badge around her neck: "President of Tanzania", it said.
Bono was doing a sort of welcome speech when the door opened, and into this small gathering walked rather sheepishly this tall guy.
Oh so that will be John Kerry.
And so it went on. Welcome to Davos!
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