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.
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