When you're deep into your summer holiday, darling, it's best to switch over to COMPASS TIME. And there’s no better way to calibrate that internal gyroscope than by yachting through my favorite nautical playground — Croatia.

At the midpoint of the climb, I took a moment — as any refined traveler should — to sit and admire the sheer grandeur before me. No city clamor. No tourists loudly comparing souvenir prices or lamenting the tragic absence of fast food. Just me.

Let’s get one thing straight: Norway was never on my travel list. Not even in the margins. Especially not in summer, when heat and I become mortal enemies and my luxurious fur turns into a portable sauna.

And by Alps, I mean Interlaken: The Swiss Disneyland, minus the lines, plus the vertigo.Hiking? Stunning. Swimming? Refreshing. Ziplining? Existential. Just remember to pack your adrenaline and your wallet—this place extracts cash faster than a one-armed bandit in a rigged casino.

So, there I was, settling my affairs after an extremely satisfying stay at the spectacular Four Seasons Seychelles, when James Edwards—Director of Guest Relations, no less—informed me that I had been bestowed the title of Seychelles Ambassador.

Another day stuck up here in the loft of my villa in the Seychelles. Raining again. Nothing to do but sort through my photo library—you know, the one documenting my globe-trotting career since 2018. That’s how long I’ve been on this party bus.

Since this is my debut post, introductions are in order. I’m Sardonic George—world traveler, reluctant companion, and the only member of this blog with actual style.