Ken Clarke was the last man out. I'm not surprised he was late up. Britain's lord chancellor had the beery sheen and aspirin eyes of a man who'd found the closing banquet of Bilderberg 2012 more than usually chillaxing. He looks like he's been pulled through a hedge fund backwards. I'm not even sure he's wearing trousers.

Poor Ken. It can't be easy for him, trying to reconcile being an MP, the minister for justice and a member of Bilderberg's steering committee. Imagine having interests so conflicted. No wonder if he's got a sweat on. Plus, he's trying his best to champion transparency, trumpeting it as "the most effective public inoculation against corruption that any country can have", while refusing to talk about the Bilderberg conference or any of the steering committee meetings.

Back in 1994, Clarke thundered in parliament about "the desirability of greater transparency of decisions on monetary policy", but these days he's having to thrash it out in private with the heads of the major banks. What a nightmare.

Another tired face belonged to Bassma Kodmani, the head of foreign affairs for the Turkey-based Syrian National Council.

Being handed power by a cartel of banks can be a tiring business. Photograph: Carter Osmar

She looks a sad little puppet. I'd have thought she'd look happier, having had the hawks of Bilderberg cluck around her for the weekend, planning her new country. It's no wonder they've taken Bassma under their wing. After all, she spent seven years at the Ford Foundation. She's "one of them".

Happier than Bassma is Karen Field, a satisfied protester from Baltimore. She befriended an insider from the venue and came away with the hot gossip from the conference. A great deal of heavy flirting and some awkward lip dodging earned her this admission: "We had a load of the hotel staff gathered round a computer in the back office, watching Alex Jones – and they're all rooting for him." Grinning through gritted teeth at the banksters. It makes you wonder what ended up in the soup. No wonder Ken looks queasy.

As for the conference: "He told me that they don't just all sit together in a big room – which is what I always thought – but they have tons of separate rooms and they split up for the meetings. The first ones are after 4.30 on Thursday." Between meetings, says Karen's source, all the delegates talk about is "money, just money". The source told her: "They don't tip, although four years ago he got $20 from Henry Kissinger's aide. This year, no one got anything." Fair enough, there's a recession on.

Four years ago, Bilderberg was here at this same hotel. And according to Karen's leak: "In 2008 Queen Beatrix got the penthouse suite. This year, Kissinger got it." What better reward for a distinguished old man accused by some of war crimes?

Poor old Queen of the Netherlands had to make do with a junior suite. Photograph: Hannah Borno

Karen's flirty staffer is the biggest Bilderberg leak in a long while. I picked up a couple of smaller tidbits myself. I was helping a cop move a security cordon near some trees, when he lowered his voice and casually let slip: "We don't support Bilderberg, trust me." And there's what a hotel employee told me as he drove through the gates of the hotel. He lowered his window and beckoned me over. "I want you to know that they call you people 'cockroaches'. I work in the hotel and they asked me if those cockroaches were still out there. They meant you."

That's nice. A nearby live-streamer, Sky Adams, laughed when I told him, and said: "Well, at least cockroaches are indestructible. They keep coming back." I'm sure the organisers of Bilderberg will be delighted to know that. As the last limousines purred off to their private jets, the admin team were lining up for a souvenir snapshot, when up strolled three fearless citizen journalists, cameras whirring, live streams streaming. Mayhem ensued:

Smile please for the cameras: the Bilderberg conference team enjoy the invigorating breeze of publicity. Photograph: wearechange.org



Shrieks, hands to the lens, various escortings from the premises. A lovely moment ruined. I almost feel sorry for them.

No, wait … I don't.