In a development that has sent shivers down the spines of every oligarch with a taste for Adriatic sunsets, Jared Kushner's latest venture a luxury resort on Albania's pristine coastline has sparked protests so fierce they'd make a Greek chorus blush. The project, backed by the former presidential son-in-law and his private equity chums, promises to transform a stretch of unspoiled beach into a playground for the global elite, complete with helipads, private villas, and a moat filled with the tears of displaced locals. But the locals aren't weeping; they're marching. And they've got pitchforks. Or at least very angry placards.
Let us pause to savour the sheer poetry of the situation. Here we have a man whose name is synonymous with the art of the deal, a man who once tried to broker peace in the Middle East with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, now attempting to flog luxury condos to the super-rich in a country where the average monthly wage is roughly the cost of a cocktail at his proposed beach bar. The protests, led by a coalition of environmentalists, housing activists, and what appears to be a very man-sized seagull, have drawn comparisons to the Arab Spring, but with more sun cream and fewer body bags.
UK investors, however, have been warned to tread carefully. ‘This is not your typical beachfront development,’ cautioned a spokesperson for the venerable firm of doom-mongers, Global Risk Analytics. ‘We're talking about a region where the geopolitical fault lines are as shifting as the sand dunes. One minute you're sipping a negroni, the next you're caught in a land dispute between a local warlord and a property developer who looks like he's been forged in the fires of Mar-a-Lago.’ The alert, issued to clients with portfolios heavier than a lead lifejacket, notes that Albania's charm offensive to join the EU has been overshadowed by its enthusiasm for selling off its coastline to anyone with a chequebook and a flag of convenience.
But let us not forget the man at the centre of this hurricane of hubris. Jared Kushner, the human embodiment of a LinkedIn profile written by a AI that's never met a real person, has defended the project as a ‘catalyst for sustainable tourism’. Which is a bit like saying a nuclear bomb is a catalyst for urban renewal. The resort, according to leaked plans, will feature a golf course designed by a man whose name sounds like a minor character from a P.G. Wodehouse novel, a spa that offers treatments using only the tears of endangered sea turtles, and a helipad shaped like a dollar sign. Tasteful.
Meanwhile, the Albanian government, sensing an opportunity to both line their pockets and bask in the glow of Kushner's celebrity, have been characteristically evasive. The Prime Minister, a man with a haircut that suggests he's been styled by a blindfolded hedgehog, has described the protests as ‘a healthy exercise in democratic expression’ before flying off in a private jet to inspect the site. From his jet. With his new sunglasses.
So what does this mean for the discerning UK investor? Well, it means you should probably stick to buying distressed assets in Swindon unless you have a particular fondness for landmines dressed as investment opportunities. The Kushner brand, once heralded as the Midas touch, is starting to look a bit more like the Medusa stare. Turn to stone at your own peril.
In conclusion, dear reader, let this be a lesson: never trust a man who wears his suit jacket indoors. And if you must invest in a foreign beach resort, make sure the only thing stirring on that coast are the waves, not the locals.
