Windsor Castle

“You know, Nazy,” I said. “I think I’ll just take a day for myself during this trip.”

“You won’t spend all your time working?” Nazy was flabbergasted.

“No, I’ll go and see Stonehenge.”

In spite of many trips to the UK, I almost always stay in London to work. If I go out, I usually focus on West End shows, but I have visited the British Museum to see all the non-British stuff like the Rosetta Stone [Egypt] and parts of the Parthenon [Greece]. A misguided sense of ‘duty’ prevented me from venturing farther afield. Recent company behaviour is effectively eroding that sense.

I decided to give myself ½ day ‘off-duty’. However, as the concierge explained, the standard tours include Windsor Castle, Stonehenge and Bath. In short, there are no half-day excursions. I considered (and rejected) an idea to drive to Stonehenge.

“The company can spare me for the day,” I thought as I booked the trip. My iPhone responded with the distinctive ring (the theme from Jaws) indicating a call from THE CUSTOMER. I had just completed the (non-refundable) transaction.

“We need to update you on our analysis of your response to our RFP.”

“No problem,” I replied. “I’m all ears.”

“We have to do it tomorrow.”

“I will be in Stonehenge tomorrow,” I thought. “Hmm,” I replied.

“Shall we make the call at noon?”

“Can you update me now?” I replied.

“No, my colleague is not available. Is noon okay?”

I anxiously reviewed the tour itinerary. “I’ll be at Windsor Castle,” I thought. “That will be fine,” I replied.

“So much for a whole day away from work,” I thought.

With the con-call programmed into the iPhone, I left early the next morning.

The first stop was Windsor Castle where Elizabeth II still spends her weekends. I saw Queen Ann’s Doll’s House (which is roughly the size of our apartment) and a variety of tastelessly ostentatious, but nevertheless interesting, formal rooms.

At noon (CET), I slipped out of the tour group for my con-call. Gobsmacked to see a huge group of people gathered around the courtyard, I dialled in. I announced my attendance just as the changing of the guard ceremony began. A loud marching band with bugles, drums and other noisemakers appeared whilst I was trying to find the mute button. I slipped into the nearby Abbey.

“You!”

“Shssh..” I said, phone on mute. “This is a religious building.” I wanted this guy to shut up.

“No mobile phones,” the busybody complained.

“It is very loud outside,” I replied – trying to concentrate on the messages being delivered by my customer.

“You can’t use your mobile phone in the Abbey,” a church official, alerted by the commotion, told me: “You! Must! Leave!”

Note: Although Windsor Castle is spacious, it is located very close to Heathrow. I wonder how the Queen copes with the noise. (See Photo).

The Opera

Each summer the city of Bergenz hosts an opera on Lake Constance. The outdoor theatre seats 700o. The set, nestled in the water, is gargantuan. [Disclaimer for Opera buffs: the performance is more spectacle than opera.] Although major operas are chosen, they are edited and rearranged to fit into Bergenz standard: 2 hours, no break. Aida, which normally lasts 4 hours, is this year’s opera. Since we were going to ‘the Opera’, I have to say that I was pleased by Bergenz rules.

I prepared myself with an on-line review. I have found that it’s not easy to follow the ‘plot’ because the singers, especially sopranos and (overweight) tenors, take forever to get to the point. There is also a rule against writing an opera in English – a fact that might explain the popularity difference between Harry Potter and Aida.

The weather was threatening during the drive. Nazy assured me that the ticket could be exchanged in the event of rain. (The performance is outside and the theatre has no roof.) Note: Some cynical readers may assume that I was hoping for rain; in fact, I wanted to see the show. I did hope, in vain, that the Wolford Factory Outlet would be shuttered during the Bregenz Opera Festival.

It rained for the (many) hours that we spent at Wolford, but the weather cleared for the evening performance. We had dinner at lakeside with a nice view of the set.

“You told me that this Opera takes place in ancient Egypt,” Nazy said.

“That’s right. It involves an Ethiopian princess/slave (Adia), the Pharaoh, his daughter (Amneris) and the young captain of the guard (Ramades).”

“Why is the set a giant blue and gold Statue of Liberty?”

“Nazy, my dear,” I replied. “It’s trendy, it’s avant gardé, it’s Opera translated to the 21st century..”

“Weren’t the Pharaohs alive in the, eh, ‘minus 3rd’ century?”

“You are missing the point. When people think of Opera, they think ‘stuffy’. This Opera is edgy. It’s chic. It’s fashionable.” I was eloquent. “It’s stupid,” I thought.

The set, constructed in the water, included not only the blue (and dismantled) Statue of Liberty, it also had two giant cranes and a stage the size of Luxembourg.

Before this trip, I thought that the Opera was essentially like a Broadway Musical with the cast singing in Italian. That wasn’t quite right.

In a Broadway Musical, the characters do not need binoculars to see each other. In this performance, the characters, separated by vast distances, needed the Hubble Space Telescope. For example, Aida might be standing on the stage (and in water 4 inches deep) while singing to Radames. He would be on the other side of the lake in a boat held 80 feet aloft by a construction crane. In short: the distance between them was the same as the distance between the Earth and the (dwarf) planet Pluto. It was difficult sometimes to tell who was singing to whom. In fact, it was sometimes difficult to even see who was singing. (I didn’t bring my space telescope.)

The Hike

Unlike me, Nazy had prepared for anniversary holiday by researching the area. She noted that her book of “1000 things to do before you die” waxed eloquent about the walk along the coast to visit each of the five cities, eh, towns, in Cinque Terre. Each had begun as a fishing community with its own character.

“The towns,” Nazy said, “feature colourful houses perched on the sides of steep cliffs.”

The word ‘steep’ should have gotten my attention. The next morning, armed with a small map, we confidently strode from hotel, walking south. We were greeted by a set of 342 narrow steps (all going up) as soon as we left the hotel grounds. The path continued to wind upward with a mixture of steps and narrow ‘walkways’ precariously perched along the mountain.

“I will not be the first to suggest that we stop and rest,” I thought.

The climb continued. After what seemed like the 32,342nd step, I began to reconsider my options. Nazy, buff and prepared, marched onward and upward, accelerating as she went.

“Why don’t we stop and admire the view?” I asked. “Before I expire,” I thought.

“Are you getting tired, Dan?” Nazy asked.

“Tired? Me? The view is spectacular,” I replied. “But it is hard to enjoy because I’m wheezing, my glasses are fogged and my legs feel like limp spaghetti.” I thought.

“This hike is one of the 1000 things we have to do before we die,” Nazy continued.

“I won’t be able to do the other 999 things if I die on this walk,” I thought.

We (finally) paused just before the path started down toward Vernazza (Nazy thought the town was named after her) where we had lunch. Nazy ordered the ‘local cuisine’ – i.e. fish and a tomato/mozzarella salad. She also befriended fellow tourists from Sweden.

“Sven says that the path to Cornigla, the next town, is long and steep, Dan.”

“Well, if you are not up to it,” I began. “Please, God,” I thought.

“But my book says that the hike is a ‘must’..”

“A ‘must’, my dear?” I replied. “There ‘must’ be a mistake,” I thought.

“We can ask more people,” Nazy suggested. Simultaneously, I began to scan the crowd for people who looked exhausted.

Everybody that had walked between Cornigla and Vernazza recommended the train. Amazingly, Nazy suggested that we take the train. I “reluctantly” agreed. It was an excellent decision. Cornigla, the smallest of the towns, is also the most boring. Getting “there” after a two hour hike would have been disappointing. Luckily the final two stops (Manarola and Riomaggore) were relatively easy and flat walks away.

The photo is of Portofino; more on that in the next posting.
[1] Nazy is convinced that they named the city after her…

The Business Offer

Pesky company business was interfering with my plans and wreaking havoc with my trip. An extremely complicated customer request had activated our company’s process genes. Meetings, con-calls and reviews were scheduled with no understanding whatsoever of the consequences (e.g. time zones) of the spheroid shape of the planet. Critical conferences were routinely scheduled for midnight or 1:00AM Hong Kong time. My boss called demanding an explanation.

“It is all my fault.” I confessed. “I am trying to do something different.”

“Different? Why would you…”

“Our marketing materials say that customers can purchase technology as if it were a utility: paying for what they use and only when they use it.”

“That’s just marketing, Dan..”

“The customer believed it.”

“What?! How could you let that happen?”

The challenge was clear: Naively, I was trying to deliver what was promised in the advertisements. Naturally, this unprecedented approach attracted the risk assessment subcommittee of the Business Avoidance Division (BAD).

“Your proposal, Dan,” one call began, “is untenable. It requires a coordinated response from our Financial Services, Storage, Technical Support, Software, Consulting and Outsourcing units.”

“The customer wants a solution.”

“And you expect to deliver it in North America, Europe, Asia and Austraila.”

“The customer wants a global solution.”

As it began to look like we might actually sell this, internal activity accelerated – sucking time and generating work. The risk assessors demanded ever-increasing detail and mitigation processes. Their objective was to raise the price so high that the customer wouldn’t buy the solution. (No Sale, No Risk.) At the same time, business managers who had been hostile to the approach began to realize that they would look like nay-saying fools if the customer actually bought the solution. As a result, a concerted effort to ‘help’ (i.e. ‘claim credit’) ensued. All of this resulted in a plethora of phone calls. Thus, I shouldn’t have been surprised at 3:00 AM when the iPhone began to emulate Big Ben.

Note: I just like the photo, I don't think it has anything to do with the posting

I'm practical

“Why do you always make ‘the Darius character’ look bad, Dad?”

“Why do you ask, Darius?” I replied.

“People will think that the only thing I can do is lose things.”

“Well - you did leave your shoes in Iceland..”

“Dad…”

“And you mobile phone and the pillow and..”

“Please make Melika the star of this episode.”

“Sounds fair to me,” I replied. “I’ve just finished a telephone conversations which may provide material,” I thought. Melika had volunteered information:

“Darius is helping me with economic advice, Dad.”

“Really? How is it going?”

“It is very complicated, Dad…”

“You’re a lawyer, Melika. You revel in complication.”

“I know, Dad. But, as a first step, I like to simplify things.”

“I see.”

“I think Darius is saying that the general idea is to try to arrange it so that, eh, I spend less each month than I earn.”

“What a unique idea.”

“Unique and implausible, Dad.”

“I agree that it would be a life-style altering approach for you, Melika.”

“That what I told him, Dad: I was like, ‘Get real, Dar.’ I'm not sure that he appreciated it. I mean, I am practical, Dad, but…”

“Practical, Melika? You got a dog.”

Too many.....

I was trying to get to my meeting in South Mumbai. The car wasn’t moving and there wasn’t much to look at. In fact, I tried to avoid looking out because professional beggars were scratching at the window. “These people are so different,” I thought. Satish, my driver, wasn’t amused either.

“Politicians do nothing for the people,” he opined.

“We’re not so different,” I thought. “Politician-bashing is a universal human activity.”

“Seven million people move into the city to work every day,” Satish continued.

“They don’t look like they’re moving, Satish.” I replied. “7 million people,” I thought. “It’s like the entire population of Switzerland driving into one city.”

“They don’t all drive, sir. Some take the train.”

“Too many cars, Satish.” I replied.

“Too many cars. Too many people. Too many languages. Too many religions…..”

“My driver is a philosopher,” I thought.

“… too many problems.”

“And a realist,” I concluded.

Note: The photo directly shows two of the three types of taxis. The third type is a blue ‘cool’ taxi – i.e. air conditioned. (You can see one in the background.) I was in a car arranged by the hotel. (I hope the company pays my expense claim.)

Jellyfish and Chicken Feet

I am trying to nourish my customer relationships in Asia-Pacific. To that end, I invited them to join me for lunch. They suggested a nearby Chinese Eatery.

“What would you like?” Richard asked.

“I’m not particular,” I replied. “I can eat anything.” (“Except cucumbers,” I thought.)

“Be careful about what you say,” Richard replied. “You are in China.”

“Good point,” I said. “I can eat anything normal.”

“I understand,” Richard replied. Then he ordered the starter: jellyfish.

“What does this taste like?” I asked.

“Cucumber,”

“Wonderful,” I thought.

“Actually, there’s not much taste. You have to dip in garlic and soy sauce.”

It looked, well, it looked like a blob of gelatine. It was, however, crunchy and, with the garlic, somewhat tasty. I politely demurred on the chicken feet option.

Hong Kong is a very dynamic city. They continue to reclaim land from the harbor and building construction hasn’t diminished. Many banks are moving to a new facility that is being erected on the Kowloon (mainland) side of the harbour. Interestingly, even though the building is not finished, tenants have already occupied into the bottom 30 floors.

The economic situation has a positive side here. The skies were actually blue. The last time I saw something like this in Hong Kong was 1993.