The last time I was on a boat on the Thames, The Sex Pistols were playing “Pretty Vacant” as we sailed downriver past the Houses Of Parliament. It was Jubilee Day, 1977, and the cruiser we were on had just been surrounded by police launches, their searchlights raking the upper deck of our craft, dozens of their baton-wielding colleagues lined up in sinister ranks on Westminster Pier, waiting for us to dock so they could storm aboard and crack heads, which they eventually did with painful abandon.
It remains to be seen whether the global credit gloom will have a negative effect on the parties, the glamour and the excessively large yachts that tend to provide entertaining if diversionary colour from the Cannes Film Festival. But, certainly, in terms of heavyweight talent on display at this year's festival, you might be hard pressed to think of a more Cannes-like line-up.