Pimms in short supply

This evening I went to the Queen's Birthday bash in Tirana. I always feel a little embarrassed on these occasions. Other countries have national days, but we don't have one of those. Just the Queen's birthday, which isn't even her birthday.

But this evening I was especially embarrassed. Usually, a Queen's Birthday do is at least a bit of fun. Often in the garden of HM Ambassador's residence, with lots of food and plenty of booze. A good excuse to slurp and cavort with international officials, and local politicians and others, not all of whom are altogether awful. But this time all I managed to lay my hand on was one measly glass of Pimms (rather well-mixed, alcoholic Pimms, but still), and a few rather sad canapes. And this is Albania, the land where hospitality is sacred. I've been to rather a lot of diplomatic receptions over the years, which is probably a sad reflection on the life I lead. The most important criteria for judging them are the quality and the quantity of the food and the booze. The best ones I've been to have been by the Spanish (very generous) and the Russians (caviar and vodka). But the Brits were generally pretty good. I suppose the stinginess this year in Albania is down to the belt-tightening of the financial crisis, which I suppose is reasonable. British taxpayers could reasonably ask why their money should be spent on the revelling of people like me. There wasn't even a band. Every other year I've been to one of these events there's been a band, or at least some buglers, or pipers (if the ambassador's a Scot). This time we had a recording of "God Save the Queen".

Even if taxpayers might reasonably be spared the expense of my Pimms, I couldn't help feeling a little ashamed. To me this evening spoke of a country without pretensions even to be second-rate. We should be able to do better.