He orders an iced cappuccino and I ask for a macchiato before asking why he still works. “I work, like my father did before me, primarily for my family,” he says, but he adds that as he has grown more religious he has come to believe he has been blessed and has a duty to give something back.
Will he be working at 96? “I hope I’m doing it at 110,” he shoots back. His youngest son will be in his forties by then, and I ask whether he wants his children to work for him. “My [oldest] boys both worked for me. They didn’t like it,” he replies. “At first I was disappointed … but I grew to be happy that they’re happy.” One daughter is now looking at “technological add-ons” for his businesses, he adds.
He personally doesn’t use email, has no computer and sends no texts, he says, looking me in the eye as he adds that he prefers to look people in the eye. “You look around this restaurant and half the people are doing something except what they should be doing.” A glance at the number of iPhones being consulted by Marea’s well-heeled clientele confirms he has a point. How does he run his businesses without a constant stream of digital updates? “I have a lot of secretaries,” he says with a smile, before taking a call on his old Nokia telephone.