Friday, 24 September 2010
Morning Run
Today's morning run in the beautiful forests in Zurich was less eventful than last Friday's excursion in Eastern Europe. That said it was good to get out after a hectic week which included having to rush Sandie to hospital (everything fine now), a plane ticket that the travel centre had "forgotten to buy", 5 hours in a French train and 2 days in Zurich. I am now currently sitting in the airport at Zurich waiting to travel home. The 2 day workshop I've just completed in Zurich was useful in parts. We did some interesting work on cultural dimensions which I'll digest on the flight home and share in due course....does that make me high power distance or lower power distance? Anyway, much more important than that, I'm looking forward to a day out with Maxime tomorrow at the show jumping in Pau. It will be good to see everyone again - it's been a while.
Friday, 17 September 2010
Köszönöm Tesco!
Many of you know that despite the fact that I hate running, I often go running in the morning to try and keep fit and to get to know the various towns and cities I travel to. You may also have picked up that I am a specialist in getting lost – in Paris I used to run around with my tube pass because I often had to get the train back to my home station when I got too lost. This morning I went one better when out running in the rain in Hungary. My hotel was already in the industrial outskirts of Budapest so when I got lost this morning, I really got lost. After about 30 minutes I ended up stopping two middle-aged Hungarian women who didn’t speak a word of English. All I could mutter was, “Tesco”. Thankfully they understood that I needed to go to the local Tesco supermarket which happened to be next to my hotel. The first lady quickly realised that it would impossible to give me directions, so she looked at the second lady who gestured that I should get in their car. The husband of one (or possibly both of them) was standing at the gate of their garden with his huge Alsatian dog – I felt it would have been rude (or dangerous) to refuse, so in I got. Shortly afterwards I was very happy because it was quite clear that after 10 minutes of driving on the motorway I had really got myself very lost indeed. I was also very happy that the day before I had asked my taxi driver how to say “Thank You” in the local language (something I often do). Never had it been more useful. As I got out of the car they gave me a huge smile as I muttered “Köszönöm” (pronounced cus-u-num). I was just glad I had got out alive with my watch, wedding ring and the fillings in my teeth.
But it’s not only because of this experience that I like Hungary and Eastern Europe in general. I can understand that some might be put off by the lack of any border control checks at the airport, the clearly drunk taxi driver, or the either tasteless or deep fried food served in the hotel and client canteen (yesterday was the first time I have eaten deep fried camembert cheese!). But not me. I like Hungary and it’s not just because of the belly dancers at the restaurant last night. The Hungarians I have met are a nice and friendly bunch. They are typically happy to listen and to talk with you. I will be quite happy if I end up making regular trips to Budapest, although I’ll be sure to take a hotel in the city centre next time.
But it’s not only because of this experience that I like Hungary and Eastern Europe in general. I can understand that some might be put off by the lack of any border control checks at the airport, the clearly drunk taxi driver, or the either tasteless or deep fried food served in the hotel and client canteen (yesterday was the first time I have eaten deep fried camembert cheese!). But not me. I like Hungary and it’s not just because of the belly dancers at the restaurant last night. The Hungarians I have met are a nice and friendly bunch. They are typically happy to listen and to talk with you. I will be quite happy if I end up making regular trips to Budapest, although I’ll be sure to take a hotel in the city centre next time.
Köszönöm Tesco!
Many of you know that despite the fact that I hate running, I often go running in the morning to try and keep fit and to get to know the various towns and cities I travel to. You may also have picked up that I am a specialist in getting lost – in Paris I used to run around with my tube pass because I often had to get the train back to home station when I got too lost. This morning I went one better when out running in the rain in Hungary. My hotel was already in the industrial outskirts of Budapest so when I got lost this morning, I really got lost. After about 30 minutes I ended up stopping two middle-aged Hungarian women who didn’t speak a word of English. All I could mutter was, “Tesco”. Thankfully they understood that I needed to go to the local Tesco supermarket which happened to be next to my hotel. The first lady quickly realised that it would impossible to give me directions, so she looked at the second lady who gestured that I should get in their car. The husband of one (or possibly both of them) was standing at the gate of their garden with his huge Alsatian dog – I felt it would have been rude (or dangerous) to refuse, so in I got. Shortly afterwards I was very happy because it was quite clear that after 10 minutes of driving on the motorway I had really got myself very lost indeed. I was also very happy that the day before I had asked my taxi driver how to say “Thank You” in the local language (something I often do). Never had it been more useful. As I got out of the car they gave me a huge smile as I muttered “Köszönöm” (pronounced cus-u-num). I was just glad I had got out alive with my watch, wedding ring and the fillings in my teeth.
But it’s not only because of this experience that I like Hungary and Eastern Europe in general. I can understand that some might be put off by the lack of any border control checks at the airport, the clearly drunk taxi driver, or the either tasteless or deep fried food served in the hotel and client canteen (yesterday was the first time I have eaten deep fried camembert cheese!). But not me. I like Hungary and it’s not just because of the belly dancers at the restaurant last night. The Hungarians I have met are a nice and friendly bunch. They are typically happy to listen and to talk with you. I will be quite happy if I end up making regular trips to Budapest, although I’ll be sure to take a hotel in the city centre next time.
But it’s not only because of this experience that I like Hungary and Eastern Europe in general. I can understand that some might be put off by the lack of any border control checks at the airport, the clearly drunk taxi driver, or the either tasteless or deep fried food served in the hotel and client canteen (yesterday was the first time I have eaten deep fried camembert cheese!). But not me. I like Hungary and it’s not just because of the belly dancers at the restaurant last night. The Hungarians I have met are a nice and friendly bunch. They are typically happy to listen and to talk with you. I will be quite happy if I end up making regular trips to Budapest, although I’ll be sure to take a hotel in the city centre next time.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Home Sweet Home
I've been pondering recently why people are so attached to their homes. Sandie always said that my way of living that involves travelling with just a suitcase of clothes is not normal. I find she often has an "alternative" way of seeing things. With her being sick at the minute I've actually been working a lot more from home recently (although I am travelling to Hungary tonight and Zurich for 2 days next week). I have to say it's not unpleasant. So why do people like their homes so much - for me I suspect it's because it gives me a major point of reference and a sense of belonging - I've always said to Sandie that I feel like I'm a little butterfly stuck on the end of a piece of elastic that has one end firmly pinned down in the south west of France. Me, as a butterfly. I bet not many people have described me like that before.
Friday, 10 September 2010
Business Case - Genius
From The London Times: A Well-Planned Retirement
Outside England 's Bristol Zoo there is a parking lot for 150 cars and 8 buses. For 25 years, it's parking fees were managed by a very pleasant attendant. The fees were for cars (£1.40), for buses (about £7).Then, one day, after 25 solid years of never missing a day off work, he just didn't show up; so the Zoo Management called the City Council and asked it to send them another parking agent. The Council did some research and replied that the parking lot was the Zoo's own responsibility. The Zoo advised the Council that the attendant was a City employee. The City Council responded that the lot attendant had never been on the City payroll. Meanwhile, sitting in his villa somewhere on the coast of Spain or France or Italy ... is a man who'd apparently had a ticket machine installed completely on his own, and then, had simply begun to show up every day, to collect and keep the parking fees, estimated at about £560 per day -- for 25 years. Assuming 7 days a week, this amounts to just over 7 million pounds ... and no one even knows his name!
Outside England 's Bristol Zoo there is a parking lot for 150 cars and 8 buses. For 25 years, it's parking fees were managed by a very pleasant attendant. The fees were for cars (£1.40), for buses (about £7).Then, one day, after 25 solid years of never missing a day off work, he just didn't show up; so the Zoo Management called the City Council and asked it to send them another parking agent. The Council did some research and replied that the parking lot was the Zoo's own responsibility. The Zoo advised the Council that the attendant was a City employee. The City Council responded that the lot attendant had never been on the City payroll. Meanwhile, sitting in his villa somewhere on the coast of Spain or France or Italy ... is a man who'd apparently had a ticket machine installed completely on his own, and then, had simply begun to show up every day, to collect and keep the parking fees, estimated at about £560 per day -- for 25 years. Assuming 7 days a week, this amounts to just over 7 million pounds ... and no one even knows his name!
Paranoia
I was feeling virtuous this morning as a result of not killing anyone, but does that mean everyone now hates me.... an interesting article in the Economist suggests that maybe they do. It says that "too much virtue (is) seen as a vice".....http://www.economist.com/node/16843817?story_id=16843817
28 KPH
As I was driving Maxime to crèche this morning I made a conscious effort to respect the speed limit near the school building. The speed counter flashed up with 28 in bright green letters and I felt particularly virtuous. I think it was the first time that I’ve ever respected the speed limit on that hill despite having lived in Biarritz for 10 years.
Why did I make the effort this time? Well because I’ve now got a child. It is funny how having experienced something first hand (having a child), your perception of, and attitudes to, different things (speed limits) changes. Sandie said a similar thing to me this week – she told me that lying in a hospital bed worrying about the health of two young foetuses has helped her put a lot of things into perspective.
I suspect the upshot of these two musings is (1) now I understand why you can’t be CEO straight after graduating – you just haven’t had enough first hand experiences, (2) that reading, and in particular reading the accounts of first hand experiences of others, is probably the next best way to get additional experience (even if it is only second hand), and (3) I am hopeful that this means that Sandie will be even easier to live with when she gets out of hospital.
Why did I make the effort this time? Well because I’ve now got a child. It is funny how having experienced something first hand (having a child), your perception of, and attitudes to, different things (speed limits) changes. Sandie said a similar thing to me this week – she told me that lying in a hospital bed worrying about the health of two young foetuses has helped her put a lot of things into perspective.
I suspect the upshot of these two musings is (1) now I understand why you can’t be CEO straight after graduating – you just haven’t had enough first hand experiences, (2) that reading, and in particular reading the accounts of first hand experiences of others, is probably the next best way to get additional experience (even if it is only second hand), and (3) I am hopeful that this means that Sandie will be even easier to live with when she gets out of hospital.
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
8.19PM -> 8.39PM
The time I landed in Zurich airport last night and the time at which I was in my regular hotel next to the zoo. I didn't forget any pushchairs at the airport. I didn't open the taxi door on the motorway once. We didn't stop for any nappy changes. I didn't split my head open. Travelling without Maxime is infinitely less complicated, but somehow less exciting. On a different note I have to say that I like my little routines here in Zurich. The highlight of the day today, apart from meeting two new clients, was seeing a llama in the zoo at 6.45AM. No elephants though.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Gold Rush
I had forgotten to mention on this blog a major development of the last couple of weeks. After only minutes of practice in our patio with a beach ball, it looks like Maxime is a left footer. I think I may have struck gold. My retirement is clearly secure and all I need do now is to sit back and wait for the phone calls from the scouts of various professional football clubs... that is of course if he and I don't have too many weekends away without his mother over the next 18 years.
I do she don't
This was the story of my little brother's wedding. However before you think that he was left standing all alone at the altar, the title of this blog relates more to my own experience here in the UK over the last couple of days rather than his. I came across with Maxime but without Sandie who needs to rest in France. If one asked the question do you agree that Maxime should be allowed to travel alone with his father in the future, I think my answer would be, “I do”, but Sandie’s answer would be “I don’t”. Let’s consider the evidence on both sides.
My view of things: We managed to leave Biarritz on Thursday, arrive in London, pick up a hire car and drive to the venue. Maxime was fed and watered appropriately and slept well on arrival. On the Friday my little brother managed to get married and Maxime was in bed for 9PM.
Now the case for the prosecution: It is true that I gave Ryanair the wrong boarding passes on Thursday, it is true we almost lost Maxime as he excitedly ran up the runway chasing an Air France Airbus jet, and it is also true that he took great delight in patting the head of the elderly passenger in front of him (his joy at this was only surpassed by his invention of a great game that involved putting a jam filled biscuit in the hair of the aforementioned passenger). Just for the record, we hadn’t even left Biarritz by this stage. It is also true that on arrival in London I managed to forget to pick up the pushchair when collecting our suitcase. In addition to that and after cheating death numerous times on the walk to the Hertz car rental car park, Maxime then proceeded to open his car door four times during a 90 minute journey on the motorway whilst travelling at around 130 KPH. Whilst discussing this with my Dad (oh yes, I was not travelling alone – I had another responsible adult with me), I felt that the first 6.5 hours travelling with my son had gone pretty well. I also concluded that the lost milk bottle was so insignificant it wasn’t even worth mentioning to Sandie.
Day 2: The first part of the day went exceedingly well. After travelling so far I was naturally delighted not to see any of the service after my reading because Maxime just didn’t fancy sitting still (even 750 grams of biscuits weren’t enough to keep him in one place). That said, Maxime was still in fine form and still in one piece. In fact the only time he wanted to go into the church was after the ceremony had finished – for those of you without children this is because it is much easier to climb over the seats when the church is empty. I do however have to admit I felt awful as Maxime cut his forehead open on a radiator during the wedding reception (even if he was not strictly under my supervision at that point in time I hasten to add, m'lud).
By the time the young adventurer got to bed, again around 9PM, I was covered in sweat, tears, blood and chocolate (Maxime spat out a half eaten sweet that managed to tumble down the full length of my white shirt). As we enter the final 24 hours of this little adventure, the main conclusion that I have drawn is that having children should be a conscious choice – you can opt to have no children at all. That plus the fact that I should appreciate more what Sandie does…it’s just a shame she’s going to spend the next 2 months in hospital waiting for the twins to arrive.
My view of things: We managed to leave Biarritz on Thursday, arrive in London, pick up a hire car and drive to the venue. Maxime was fed and watered appropriately and slept well on arrival. On the Friday my little brother managed to get married and Maxime was in bed for 9PM.
Now the case for the prosecution: It is true that I gave Ryanair the wrong boarding passes on Thursday, it is true we almost lost Maxime as he excitedly ran up the runway chasing an Air France Airbus jet, and it is also true that he took great delight in patting the head of the elderly passenger in front of him (his joy at this was only surpassed by his invention of a great game that involved putting a jam filled biscuit in the hair of the aforementioned passenger). Just for the record, we hadn’t even left Biarritz by this stage. It is also true that on arrival in London I managed to forget to pick up the pushchair when collecting our suitcase. In addition to that and after cheating death numerous times on the walk to the Hertz car rental car park, Maxime then proceeded to open his car door four times during a 90 minute journey on the motorway whilst travelling at around 130 KPH. Whilst discussing this with my Dad (oh yes, I was not travelling alone – I had another responsible adult with me), I felt that the first 6.5 hours travelling with my son had gone pretty well. I also concluded that the lost milk bottle was so insignificant it wasn’t even worth mentioning to Sandie.
Day 2: The first part of the day went exceedingly well. After travelling so far I was naturally delighted not to see any of the service after my reading because Maxime just didn’t fancy sitting still (even 750 grams of biscuits weren’t enough to keep him in one place). That said, Maxime was still in fine form and still in one piece. In fact the only time he wanted to go into the church was after the ceremony had finished – for those of you without children this is because it is much easier to climb over the seats when the church is empty. I do however have to admit I felt awful as Maxime cut his forehead open on a radiator during the wedding reception (even if he was not strictly under my supervision at that point in time I hasten to add, m'lud).
By the time the young adventurer got to bed, again around 9PM, I was covered in sweat, tears, blood and chocolate (Maxime spat out a half eaten sweet that managed to tumble down the full length of my white shirt). As we enter the final 24 hours of this little adventure, the main conclusion that I have drawn is that having children should be a conscious choice – you can opt to have no children at all. That plus the fact that I should appreciate more what Sandie does…it’s just a shame she’s going to spend the next 2 months in hospital waiting for the twins to arrive.
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Scout's Honour
The secrets of successful business? If you say you're going to do something, then do it, and don't forget to keep people updated on where you're at with something they've asked you to do. The basic things are easy, but boy does it make a difference when you don't do them. I'm seeing some unbelievable examples of trust busting behaviour today. Ouch. The good news is that it should be easy to resolve.....
Trudge Trudge Trudge
Trudging back to work this week after a super holiday, although it's been a bizarre mix of things moving at 100 MPH but nothing actually really changing or moving forward – sprinting on the spot if you like. I guess that's when I need to take a step back and avoid getting drawn into the hubris and work out what really is the best use of my time. I spent some good quality time with my boss yesterday so that’s helped both re-orientate me and also cover off a number of minor admin points such as expense claims…. I also took great pleasure in seeing a young Belgian last night – he almost looked and sounded like a serious professional now that he’s no longer working for me. He’ll be here in London until the end of the year so hopefully I’ll be able to see a bit more of him and another young chip and mayonnaise eating individual. Flying back to France this afternoon to come back to the UK tomorrow night with Maxime (but without the wife) ahead of my little brother’s wedding on Friday. I’m actually looking forward to my first trip away with 20 month old Maxime, although Sandie seems petrified by the whole idea….I am pretty sure I know who will be proved right (I can already see myself throwing the little monster into the Ryanair bag drop on Sunday afternoon).
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