Monocle Weekend
Edition: Saturday

In need of a getaway? Look no further than a trip to Portugal for fine food and drink or step foot into a Mediterranean beach club for a sunny wardrobe refresh. Plus: we sample the snack keeping Singapore cool and press play on our summer playlist, which might just give you a moment to pause and unwind. But first, Andrew Tuck takes a view of the world through a new lens.

It’s tempting to divide the world – and people – into the creative and the technical, into folk who like the arts and those who take pleasure from a quadratic equation; those who can make a charming flower arrangement and those who can’t. But the annoying thing – at least for someone who is clearly not in the quadratic-equation gang – is how interlinked these two realms often are.

Take architecture. While it is, at its best, about aesthetics, understanding materials and making handsome edifices, architecture is also underpinned by engineering, by a command of how light refracts, of electrics and even plumbing. It is not just about picking paints and plumping cushions. It’s the same with photography. Nice that you can frame – or ruthlessly crop – an image but a camera can do so many wonderful things when placed in the hands of someone who knows what all those buttons can achieve. I am not that person.

Some months ago, having banged on about wanting to own a real camera, the other half gave me an amazing gift, a Fujifilm X100VI. It’s a 35mm fixed-lens camera and it has a bit of a cult following. It looks handsome – a little retro for a state-of-the-art digital camera – and it’s good. What’s more, it’s simple to use. Well, maybe. I have a feeling that it’s simple to use for people who are tech-heads.

Years ago, I had a bashed-up Nikon that I took on every trip, shot only black and white, selected a few images to have printed and made pristine and lovingly annotated albums. I knew my way around its dials, mustered a grasp of apertures and shutter speeds. But then it was stolen and with it went my hobby and command of f-stops.

The new camera comes with an instruction book that’s about the same length as the one for our car and is written in a way that shuts down your brain in seconds. It’s not something that you could read with pleasure. My relationship with this handsome camera has been developing falteringly. We go on dates together, sometimes heading to the park with the dog in tow. We’ve been to restaurants, accompanied each other on work trips and visited an ever-expanding list of interesting architecture in Mallorca. We are getting used to one another. Mr Fuji is forgiving when I go too deep into the menus (I just need to press “display back” and then we can erase any upset that I have caused and start afresh). But this relationship is going to need attention to be truly successful.

I have already taken partnership counselling. Linard, a colleague in Zürich who always has his camera to hand, has been giving me sage advice (we’ve even gone past “Remember to take the lens cap off”). I have been back to the shop where an unflappable assistant managed to get my brain to absorb a modicum of technical detail. I have watched a lot of instructional Youtube videos by people who are hard to love. And now, I have signed up for a one-day camera course for those whose technical prowess needs attending to. Let’s see how they cope with having me in their class.

The problem is that technology has become so intuitive, so brilliant at easing out the need for any proficiency, that it surprises us when we have to make an effort to get to grips with a camera, a gadget. We have to find reward in the things that are not easy, that require you to work through missteps, have another go.

It’s unlikely that I will ever be booked as a wedding photographer but when I downloaded the pictures from last weekend, there were some that were passable and a richness of colour and light that I hadn’t seen at play before in my phone pictures. So who knows, perhaps this photographic relationship will develop into something meaningful. We are going to spend the summer together. I’ll let you know whether Mr Fuji and Mr Tuck can find their way.

Join the Monocle Radio team in Paris throughout the Olympic Games for an unmissable series of programmes every weekday at 08.00 London time (09.00 CET). Broadcasting from our pop-up studio overlooking the Seine, the Monocle team will bring you insights and inspiration from the French capital alongside a line-up of special guests, athletes and innovators.
monocle.com

An Olympic opening ceremony is the highest profile of fashion parades – and has the highest stakes (writes Andrew Mueller). It gives every Olympic nation a chance to cut a sartorial dash before an audience of billions, earning the acclaim or derision of the social-media peanut gallery. In 2016 and 2020, Tonga’s flag bearer, Pita Taufatofua, became the most famous Tongan alive by wearing little beyond a traditional Tongan taʻovala, a sort of embroidered loincloth. To the disappointment of many, he did not qualify for Paris but among the athletes borne down the Seine last night were some who will have won fans, with who knows what consequences for decisions that people might make about where to holiday, invest or even live. The hosts were obviously under an unusual amount of pressure: no other Olympic city has had such a fashion heritage to honour. The decision to feature a version of France’s Tricolour on the national team’s jacket lapels was risky: any misjudgement could have made the athletes resemble cabin crew. But the design by former Vogue France editor Carine Roitfeld and LVMH, constructed by Berluti, came off as almost annoyingly cool and therefore appropriately French.

As always, countries that have a distinctive national costume in their locker were at a natural advantage. Mongolia (pictured) looked fantastic, the costumes by Michel and Amazonka Choigaalaa weaving Parisian and/or Olympic motifs among the Mongol symbols into the embroidery. Haiti also caught the eye, sporting traditional guayabera shirts over trousers and dresses decorated by painter Philippe Dodard. Both the US and UK wore what might just about be considered traditional dress, in that the former chose preppy blazers by Ralph Lauren and looked like an induction-week mixer at the CIA, while the latter chose casual sports attire by Ben Sherman. Vaguely depressing though the preponderance of leisurewear in the UK is, it was nice to see tracksuit tops worn by actual track athletes.

On a recent trip to Vietnam, I noticed a brightly decorated cart on wheels advertising “Kem Kep Singapore – Ice Cream Sandwich – Hawker Star” (writes Naomi Xu Elegant). The vendor sold just one item: a rectangular block of green ice cream wrapped in a slice of marbled pink-and-yellow bread. Singaporean cuisine has a great reputation abroad but you usually see noodles on the menu, not a rainbow-hued ice-cream sandwich. Though I live in Singapore, I have never tried this particular treat, which is traditionally sold by mobile street vendors. They’re becoming more scarce as traders retire without replacements and younger Singaporeans flock to high-end gelato joints.

Hawker Star was founded in 2020 by a Vietnamese couple, who saw the potential in this frozen concoction and brought it to their home country, where they now run more than 20 outlets. “Kep kem” means “ice-cream sandwich”, though purists of the form might argue that the way the bread encases the ice cream is more akin to a taco or a hotdog. The company’s success made headlines back in Singapore, where residents celebrated the nostalgic snack’s surprise international success. When I was walking around my neighbourhood a few weeks ago, I noticed an elderly man with a small cart, preparing ice-cream sandwiches under the shade of an umbrella. About five people waited in line. I recently saw him again on a different street where, once more, a small queue stood patiently. I’m still not sure whether he was a new presence but it took me going abroad to notice him. I joined the queue to buy myself a sandwich too. Here’s hoping he sticks around.

The Monocle Concierge is our purveyor of top tips and delectable recommendations for your next trip. If you’re planning to go somewhere nice and would like some advice, clickhere. We will answer one question a week.

Dear Monocle Concierge,

I’m heading to Portugal for the first time and will be visiting Porto and Lisbon. Any tips would be great. Thank you!

Roger Dunkerley,
Australia

Dear Roger,

If you plan to go in the next couple of months, be warned: Lisbon is sweltering. A stroll along Belém’s riverfront is a breezy way to do some sightseeing. Start at the Maat museum and continue along the Tejo towards Torre de Belém. Return via the backstreets to appreciate the imposing Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, finishing just in time for lunch at Canalha, a restaurant serving typical but refined Portuguese fare. Antiquarians and new shops share the streets around São Bento. Check out Homecore, Mustique and +351 for classic clothing. Nearby, the kiosk at Praça das Flores offers a shaded spot to cool off before dinner on one of the many restaurant terraces around the garden.

Tour the downtown Chiado and Baixa districts early in the morning to beat the crowds. Though these areas bear much of the brunt of overtourism, they’re still filled with old-world charm and dotted with historic retailers. Look out for brass Loja com Historia plaques, which signal these places. Wait for the sun to go down before strolling around the Old Town. Grab a table at Sem, a zero-waste restaurant serving a highly original set menu.

Porto’s compact size means that you can take in a lot on foot, including many glorious churches and belle époque façades. Head to the Cedofeita district for shopping and to check out brands such as La Paz and Portuguese Flannel. Claus Porto’s elegant soaps make for excellent gifts to bring home. Portucale serves flavourful dishes with views of the city, while Oficina dos Rissóis prepares plenty of Portuguese savoury pastries. Before heading home, grab a nightcap at the nearby Fiasco. While you’re in Porto, save an afternoon to visit the wonderful Serralves contemporary art museum, which is only a short drive away. Boa viagem!

Barack Obama appointed James Comey as the director of the US Federal Bureau of Investigation in 2013. Comey served in that role until 2017, when he was sacked by Donald Trump. Also a former prosecutor and general counsel to a hedge fund, Comey is now an author of crime fiction. His second novel, Westport, is out now.

When did you start writing crime novels?
It was about two years ago, after much nudging by the editor of my second non-fiction book. Nobody read that one because it came out in the week of storming of the Capitol – not a good time to launch a book about the US justice system. My editor kept referring to parts of the book as “scenes”. I told him, “It’s my life – they’re not scenes.” And he said, “Yeah, but you write narrative well and you write dialogue. You should really try fiction.” So I did. It was harder than non-fiction but addictive. Now it’s what I want to do when I grow up.

The two novels that you have written so far have the same protagonist, Nora Carleton. She is, as you were, a prosecutor who becomes a counsel for a hedge fund and is, like you, notably tall. Will the series end with her becoming the director of the FBI and getting fired by a vindictive president?
It’s possible. So far, I have been unable to contemplate bringing readers into the ickiness of Washington but Nora could move to the Department of Justice headquarters and maybe to the FBI. Or I might spare her that pain and let her stay in New York with her family.

What was it like to be in the Oval Office when Donald Trump was president?
It was like trying to communicate with a child. That’s hard for people to believe because the office carries this sense that a president must be a person with gravitas. But to tell Donald Trump something important, you had to interrupt him because he wanted to talk about what he wanted to talk about, which was himself. And so intelligence briefers or FBI directors would need to find a way to break through that torrent of self-referential babble and hold his attention with colourful diagrams. I remember going to brief him on a horrifying threat and I brought things to show him, so I could hold them up and let him touch them. Barack Obama would not have stood for that but you have to understand your audience. Elementary school teachers learn to communicate in a way that holds the attention of people who want to pick their nose or go to the bathroom.

Does your decision to announce the reopening of the FBI investigation into Hillary Clinton’s emails days before polling day in 2016 still affect your life?
I had someone curse at me on the streets of New York not long ago. I had to stop and say, “Is that a Clintonian or a Trumpian cursing me?” It’s some measure of the bubbles in which we live that neither wing of our politics knows that the other wing hates me too. But maybe there’s some comfort in that. Sure, that decision still affects me, though it’s fading over time. I made decisions about the Clinton case that I knew people would never fully understand and I’m at peace with that.

For our full interview with James Comey, tune in to next Friday’s edition of ‘The Big Interview’ on Monocle Radio.

Under its creative director, Sabato de Sarno, Gucci has brought its Italianness front and centre. This summer the Florentine luxury house is celebrating the country’s beach clubs. The new Lido capsule collection features raffia bags, espadrilles and classic horse-bit loafers, reworked for the summer in hard-wearing, off-white canvas.

It’s available at the brand’s resort boutiques in Saint-Tropez, Porto Cervo and Capri, strategically positioned en route to your favourite beach club.
gucci.com

For more sunny looks and inspiration, pick up a copy of Monocle’s latest issue or subscribe today. Have a great Saturday.