What’s most striking when first meeting Philippe Lazzarini is that he is completely alone.
Sat in the dated lobby of Hotel Cornavin, a stone’s throw from Geneva’s central train station, the 60-year-old is fiddling on his phone, head down, glasses on, anonymous.
I look around for a press officer, the scourge of any good interview, but there seems to be none. His staff, Lazzarini soon says, are thousands of miles away – in Jordan, Gaza, and Madrid, his next destination after a whistle-stop trip to southern Switzerland.
