Our prime minister, the restless soul that he is, obviously dislikes the thought of any moss growing under his stylishly-socked feet.
How long has he been home minding the store? Ten minutes?
Well, his Florida vacation is over, his Bollywood debut has seen its curtain fall with a resounding thump, and so he’s packing up his Louis Vuitton’s once again, firing up the government jet, and hitting the wild blue yonder next week for another eight days abroad
This time it’s Peru, then France, and finally Great Britain.
He’ll stop at Buck House to see the Queen, of course. That’s almost mandatory. After all, there is nothing quite like a photo-op with Her Royal Highness, particularly if there’s a hobbling Prince Philip at her side as he continues to recover from hip surgery.
This is monarchist gold. Wangling an invite to Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle while in her company would be icing on the cake.
This, of course, is right up Sophie Gregoire-Trudeau’s alley. It was the PM’s missus herself, remember, who purportedly bent the ear of the Aga Khan over the possibility of a Christmas vacation on his private island in the Caribbean, and to hell with conflict of interest breaches.
That didn’t work out so well.