It's a bit hard to feel like Tony Montana, though, when you had to get up at 4am to go to Heathrow and you're still wearing your enormous London coat that looks like it was made out of a sleeping bag. It's half past ten in the morning, UK time, and we're standing by a pool in the Spanish sunshine, being offered champagne by a parade of bronzed models sporting the itsy-bitsiest of bikinis and the highest of high heels.Įverything, except the ladies of course, is draped in red velvet or faux leopardskin golden Venus de Milo statues are dotted all around, and across the other side of the pool palm trees cast shade over another group of lovely ladies patting a beach ball about.Ĭlearly, it's all designed to give us a taste of what it's like to 'be' Tony Montana - which, as we're repeatedly informed by various Vivendi types throughout the day, is the whole point of the Scarface game.
