TRAVELING IN STYLE : AN OLYMPIAN LIFE STYLE : Luxury is expected and the expectation is fulfilled. It’s travel in the grand manner, and it’s all on the house. How an elite group junkets in lavish and leisurely fashion

They belong to what essentially is the world’s most exclusive travel organization, so it was no surprise that the beluga caviar they were served at the swank Moskva Hotel during the 1980 Moscow Olympic Games was the best that the Soviet Union had to offer. Luxury is always expected when this group is on the road, and that expectation almost always is fulfilled. Who are these celebrated souls? None other than members of the International Olympic Committee, and so the Soviets, like most other hosts of the “Olympic family,” would scarcely have dared perform otherwise.

What’s more, for the 92 IOC members it’s all on the house. As a result, they travel in grand style. At no cost to themselves, wherever they go, hotel suites are paid for by the IOC, meals are the finest obtainable and entertainment allowances are liberal. This elite group lives lavishly--to say the least.

Avery Brundage, the imperious American who headed the IOC from 1952 to 1972, paid his own way, as did other members of this now-pampered group. But his successor, Lord Killanin of Ireland, was not as wealthy, so the IOC unlocked the till for him and gradually assumed the expenses of all members.

What’s more, for U.S. members it is a tax-deductible gift. The reason given is that the Olympics is now big business, and that this is the organization that owns and directs the Games. To outsiders, it may seem that there is only joy for members who meet in world-famous watering spots: Baden-Baden, Lausanne, Monte Carlo. True to a degree, but the Olympics is recognized as a “super-national” institution, and the discussions held at these meetings are frequently of considerable political as well as sports importance. Even the taxing authorities are respectful of those proceedings.

As a result, meetings and travel for members are high on the expense-account list, and virtually nothing is spared to make life pleasant. Examples:

WHEN the IOC executive board traveled from Lausanne to Paris on the famed French TGV (tres grande vitesse) train for the 90th anniversary ceremonies of the founding of the IOC, they boarded a special car in which they were served a sumptuous meal during this gem of a junket. Upon their arrival in Paris they were whisked by limousine to the luxurious Plaza-Athenee, which-experienced travelers concede--is one of Paris’ finest hotels. They were enscounced in individual suites that would make Prince Charlie swoon. A banquet that evening took place at yet another choice Parisian hotel, the Crillon, concluding a day’s schedule generally reserved for royalty and celebrities of superstar status. Other banquets, parties and gifts from the French Olympic Committee and those hoping to secure a future Olympics for Paris marked the ensuing two days.

ALMOST without fail each member attending a meeting was given his or her own car and driver for the duration of the stay. On one occasion in Zurich, when IOC President Juan Antonio Samaranch of Spain was called away unexpectedly, it was suggested that the vice president, Louis Guirandou-N’Diaye, might double up with other officials in a single limousine. Guirandou-N’Diaye was aghast. He fumed to his hosts that he would boycott the meeting unless he was given the same car and driver that Samaranch was assigned. Both, not surprisingly, were provided.

NOT only are expensive gifts often presented by host cities and others, but also luxury items are sometimes offered at ridiculously low prices. During the Moscow Games, for example, fine mink stoles could be purchased in the IOC hotel (it was out of bounds to most others) for a mere $400, and caviar sold for $10 a pound.

BANQUETS and private parties in the best restaurants mark virtually all IOC meetings. The closing-night buffet--to which all participants, including the press, are invited--generally features virtually every specialty for which the host country is famous, as well as international delicacies flown in from the far corners of the world. Scattered about the room--in an effort to afford easy access and avoid lines--are multiple buffet tables. Pity the poor Los Angeles Matron who in 1982 put together a party with but one buffet table. Due to the resulting long lines she was banished by the IOC and told that she’d never again be permitted to arrange a blowout for members.

FRENCH Champagne and other fine wines and liquors flow copiously at these functions. And when occasional meetings are held in Third World countries, where public-health standards may be suspect, even the water is imported. When the IOC met in New Delhi a few years ago, enough Vichy and Evian was jetted from Europe so that even local bottled water could be avoided for the entire 10 days.

The Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee--known for holding back on expenses--felt constrained to cast restraint to the wind and blow its budget on banquets costing in excess of $100 a plate.

Travel, of course, is important to the IOC, since a prime mission of the organization is to spread the Olympic ideals throughout the world. What amounts to IOC diplomatic missions are sent forth several times each year. Occasionally, they find themselves in countries where political tensions are extremely volatile. This year, for example, a special IOC mission headed by the organization’s trouble-shooting Romanian vice president, Alexandru Siperco, traveled to North Korea to explore the feasibility of holding a number of events there during the 1988 Olympic Games.

When Samaranch became IOC president in 1980, he vowed to personally visit every country and territory in which there is a national Olympic committee. Since there are 160, he’s been airborne regularly ever since. Usually Samaranch is greeted upon arrival--or shortly thereafter--by the head of state. In other words, his trips take a posture generally reserved for state visits. At last count, Samaranch had been wined, dined and fussed over in more than 130 countries, often accompanied by a retinue of IOC officials.

As a traveler, no matter how splendid the arrangements, the IOC president must naturally face the possibility of at least a few unforeseen and unavoidable delays. Before the Los Angeles Games, he and his party were delayed by weather leaving Switzerland, and after reaching New York--at a very late hour--traveled onward to California with no first-class reservations. The Samaranch party was crammed into coach facilities, and they were distraught. No caviar. No Dom Perignon. Just steerage grub reserved for the poor slobs riding in the rear of the plane.

Still, in most cases, IOC travel is trouble-free. The first-class tickets are delivered by IOC travel agents well in advance of the trip. Countries cut away the red tape, setting up special reception areas and bypassing the usual customs procedures.

Oftentimes, particularly in Eastern Bloc countries, Samaranch and other IOC officials take to the skies in small chartered jets. Mario Vazquez-Rana, who heads the Mexican Olympic Committee and the worldwide Assn. of National Olympic Committees, owns his own plane, which he makes available to Olympic leaders. Indeed, when Los Angeles Olympic president Peter Ueberroth traveled to Cuba in 1984 in an effort to persuade Fidel Castro to enter a Cuban team in the Games, he was airlifted in Vazquez-Rana’s sleek bird.

One of the functions of the IOC’s secretary general is to travel in advance of the committee to check out hotels where meetings are to be held. Francoise Zweifel nails down each detail, down to the last hors d’oeuvre. For years, IOC officials preferred green table coverings at a press conferences. Obviously, the IOC points out, such a sensitive request can’t be left to chance.

Almost without exception, the IOC reserves the finest centrally located hotels, although occasionally they must bow to protocol when a government-owned hotel is involved and political sensitivities dictate tact.

The IOC hotel chosen for the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics was the Biltmore because of its proximity to the coliseum. Still, when Samaranch can pick and choose at will, it’s another matter. On a recent visit to Los Angeles, he signed in at the Beverly Hills Hotel; other IOC officials chose the Beverly Wilshire and the Century Plaza.

When Samaranch isn’t traveling, his home base is a luxurious Swiss hotel, the Lausanne Palace, where he and his wife occupy a smashing suite of rooms.

In most cases, IOC members are isolated from others traveling with the group. This is particularly true of the press. When applying for credentials, reporters are given a list of more obscure hotels from which to choose their accommodations.

Similarly at the Olympic Games, even national Olympic committee officials and sports federation leaders are assigned to hotels that frequently are less desirable than the official IOC hotel. It simply becomes a matter of class--and that’s what Samaranch & Co. is all about.