The powerful of the world are nostalgic for the interwar period. The latest 'must' is no longer on the coasts, but rather returning to Agatha Christie's trains, also the Orient Express, with maximalist decorations and 1920s restaurants, and staying in hotels that are aristocratic mansions in locations of the old 'grand tour', the now distant origin of 'tourism'.

Under the glamour and charm, in reality, the inability of those who run the world to imagine a future, not even for themselves. Even less for Humanity. At the end of the nostalgic and narcissistic fantasy, as always, as in the 1920s, war.