The fun begins on the way there, when the black BMWs of French President Nicolas Sarkozy and German Chancellor Angela Merkel force David Cameron's car on to the hard shoulder and he has to arrive at the picture-perfect Swiss hamlet via a slip-road – hence his blistering attack on the Eurozone countries on Thursday.

Still, at least he has a car. Poor old Lucas Papademos, the Greek Prime Minister, is having to walk.

Davos is essentially a sales conference for the fabulously wealthy and the same rules apply. Believe it or not, they're all on the exes amid the twinkling lights and fir tree-clad slopes down there at the World Economic Forum, and some behaviour is very familiar. CCTV footage shows Pascal Lamy, Director General of the World Trade Organisation, surreptitiously picking up some extra receipts at the bar. Microsoft founder Bill Gates is seen trying to alter his taxi chit to read €49 instead of €41.During the speeches there is so much finger-swiping on the massed ranks of iPads in the audience as everyone checks their share prices (e-mail/Facebook/Twitter/Angry Birds) that the room seems to keep moving to one side. When they break for coffee, they have to endure speed networking, just like we do. "Will zee blue card holders now move to zee green table please?"

Two delegates ignore this. They're over in the corner playing Bankers Blackjack. "I'll make 1000 redundant and raise you 500." His opponent pauses. "I'll restructure three companies, make 2000 redundant and outsource back office to India."

A few heads turn as Christine Lagard, head of the International Monetary Fund, sweeps in. She's fabulously elegant, dressed from head to toe in small countries' GDP. Mrs Merkel visibly bristles as she calculates what her dress is worth.

Come the evening though, they're all mates. Dancing Queen starts up and there's a circle of Louis Vitton bags out on the dance-floor. "Come on, Dave, you old Etonian bore!", yells Mrs Merkel. "I love this one!" Later, she tries a karaoke version, to be released on the album Now that's what I call Contagion!

Meanwhile, a tired figure is seen outside the glass doors. It's Mr Papademos, covered in snow, clearly exhausted. A waiter, recently arrived from Bulgaria and on the minimum wage, lets him in. "Please, you are tired. Come, sit. I find you drink-"