Au revoir, Cote d’Ivoire!

My 5 nights in Abidjan are effectively more than I'll be spending on my upcoming honeymoon.  How sad is that?  Does that mean I have my priorities misaligned?  (don't answer that!)  At least I expect I’ll have more fun on my honeymoon than Abidjan could even serve up.  Not saying that it hasn’t been a good week, though.  It has been a very tiring week.  But that was expected.  After all, I was here to work!  And work I did.

So, what do I love about CdI?  Well, the people are certainly delightful.  I did love meeting and being with them.  I had met a few of the faces before, which made my credibility and arrival a little gentler.  Despite the previous few months war, brutality and carnage the people’s spirits are incredible.  They remain so positive and quite a happy bunch.  They’re extremely friendly, I felt extraordinarily safe, and just generally enjoyed the experience.

I certainly enjoyed having my evenings to myself rather than having the local Team feel like I needed to be hosted at every waking opportunity.  So I was very happy about that.

The weather ranged from rainy and humid, to overcast and humid, to sunny and very humid.  Time in the plant around hot soap linea and steam didn’t make it any more comfortable, but it did make me appreciate my air conditioned and clean room each night!

Traffic wasn’t anywhere near bad as I expected, and although the roads are in a state of disrepair in certain areas the traffic moves remarkably well, drivers are surprisingly polite, hooting isn’t excessive, and cars don’t go missing in potholes to hell.

Buildings are pretty battered, especially along some of the main routes where ground floor windows remain boarded up or completely destroyed – no doubt as a result of the violence last year / earlier this year.

The quality of vehicles is remarkably good.  Being a former French colony these cars clearly dominate the roads.  But I was more surprised by how many NEW vehicles, including 4x4’s, are being driven.

Today (Saturday) I had a fantastic opportunity to be taken shopping by a colleague of mine.  Although I came away with various indigenous printed garments that I’m likely to never wear I did thoroughly enjoy getting into a local market, hearing the sounds, seeing the people and freshly boiled fresh chickens being defeathered (NOT!), and smelling the fresh roasted fish and other indigenous smells!!!  I felt remarkably safe and unharassed, which was a pleasant change from places like Morocco and Turkey.  Marius took me into some of the formal trade, less formal trade and then very basic rural trade.  It was great to drive around and see.  I’d probably not survive on my own – once again my French would let me down – but aside from that it was quite manageable.  Lesson to self: if you show an interest in something then be prepared to buy it.  Not because you’ll be muscled into buying it, but because you’ll leave the seller quite dejected and mildly offended if you go off and buy it elsewhere.  Even Marius – a local – avoided a store owner where I’d seen something and said we might come back, just because he didn’t want to offend him!

Well, I’m now done with Abidjan, this island-type city build around and on a vast lagoon in a Country of remarkably positive and robust, happy people.  I have enjoyed being here, albeit that I wasn’t too keen to come in the end and paid dearly in sweat and angst to get here.  West Africans truly are a delightful people.  I recall feeling the same after visiting Ghana – an immediate neighbour to CdI – some 8 or 9 years ago.

I've just arrived in Nairobi, Kenya off a 6hr flight where I'll be spending a further 4 nights.  I was "treated" to an emergency exit wondow seat only to learn that MY seat barely had a cushion AND it didn't recline.  So it was a surprisingly LONG 6hrs during which I didn't sleep at all.  Now I'm about to face a day of game drives and sightseeing which normally would be an AMAZING day out.  But given my lack of sleep - again - I think it might turn into an endurance session!!  Anyway, I'll make the most of enjoying some of the local activities on today (Sunday 25^th Sept) before spending 2 days in the Factory then returning home again on the 28^th. 

And then my REAL adventure begins.  I hear the sound of wedding bells tolling somewhere in the distance already!  21 days to go today!!  Yeah-haw!!!

Bienvenue a Cote d'Ivoire

Novotel Hotel, Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire, West Africa

News from this roving Reporter has been pretty quiet this year, hasn’t it?  And as most of you will know, it’s not because of LACK of news on my part.  Quite the contrary!  It’s been a momentous year indeed.  The start of my 40's has been anything BUT predictable!!

I’m now back on the travel and blogging road again, experiencing my first business trip in 6 months.  I’ve loved the break from the travel.  

Early February saw me visiting India for the first time.  Late February and up to my 40^th birthday weekend saw me in Algeria and a week later I was off to Turkey for 2 weeks.  All three of these trips were profound and enjoyable for their own reasons.  Yes, even Algeria (maybe because it’s the last time I’ll need to go there?).  

My 4 week holiday to Canada in July – and probably my 8^th or 9^th visit there – was nothing short of momentous.  I had the delight of being able to accompany my Dad and Mom across, flying into Canada to join my brother and his family there on my Mom’s birthday.  And then started my whirlwind visit that saw me return to SA just under 4 weeks later having become engaged to my old (with respect!) high school friend and sweet heart, Christa!  But that story is another whole movie franchise-in-the-making of its own!!

Instead, let me get back to present day work reality …

After numerous thwarted attempts at trying to make a long-awaited business trip to visit the friendly Ivoriennes during 2010, I once again nearly had my plans scuttled over this past weekend.  Why does my business travel somehow always make for a story instead of just being a run-of-the mill “happening”?

Like I mentioned, I’ve been trying to get to this French-speaking gem of Africa for well over a year now.  When I was all set and ready to go in early 2010 some local rebels thought otherwise and decided to re-embark on civil war efforts that left the Country in a very tenuous position and left Unilever banning all travel here.  So my plans were put on hold indefinitely.  Over recent months things seem to have settled down to a gentle simmer, so I rekindled my travel plans – not out of necessity rather than out of genuine desire – and so compiled an itinerary that would help me tick a few boxes on my work to-do list. 

A week of trials and process auditing in Cote d’Ivoire.

A 3-day courtesy visit and process audit in Nigeria.

And finally a 2 day stop-over and project review and process audit in Kenya. 

The 11-day journey was planned and just needed to be executed.  My departure date was set for Sunday September 11^th (the idea of flying on this significant date and on the 10 year anniversary of the US bombings didn’t really enthral me, I must be honest).  So I was mildly relieved when one of my key raw materials for my trial had not yet been shipped from Ghana which forced me to delay my trip by a week.  I was relieved to have an extra week at home, what with the prospects of our momentous wedding occasion a mere 5 weeks away!  It just seems more settling to be home-based for now!  But alas, work still pays the bills!

I was all set and ready to fly on my rescheduled date of Sunday 18^th September, when on Saturday afternoon it suddenly dawned on me that I’d not received confirmation of my travel details and my final itinerary.  Trying my best to think nothing much of it I pressed on in the rest of the weekend expecting the gnawing in my stomach to subside once I started packing.  Well, a long story short, by Sunday morning it was confirmed that I did, indeed, NOT have a confirmed ticket for my anticipated upcoming journey that I was expected to depart on at 8pm that night.  So with a mild frenzy I set about trying to establish whether there had been some accidental mess-up and what could be done to remedy the situation.  After numerous extended phone calls to the 24-hour helpline for our travel agents investigating flight routing options, times and PRICE (it’s not a good thing booking at the last minute … ever!!!), and with much angst, I managed to book a trip that would still get me to CdI on time albeit that I now had to cut out the Nigerian leg of my travel.  So after receiving final confirmation of my trip at 4.30pm on Sunday afternoon I frantically started packing, getting things ready at home for my 10 days excursion.  Despite my best intentions to be ready ahead of time for this journey when the time came to it I was hopelessly under-prepared, far from ready to leave, and severely lacking in enthusiasm to travel to Central Africa.  Even a stint in hospital seemed more appealing at the time (I hate to admit it!!).

Saturday night had seen me hosting friends at my home till quite late.  This, followed by another of those late night calls to my beloved in Canada saw me crawling into bed at 2am on Sunday morning.  The growing anxiety about my unconfirmed trip woke me by 6am on Sunday morning, so by the time I had packed my bags and was dashing for the airport on Sunday night I was already running on emotional fumes.  In my haste to park my car in my parking bay at work I promptly reversed into the wall of the prayer room in the Unilever basement car park and put a neat hole through the wooden partition.  This after almost mounting a pillar with my front tyre.  Try get that right in your car and come away unscathed!!

I can’t help but wonder if some forces weren’t conspiring to stop me from embarking on my trip to Central Africa yet again.  But undeterred I was determined to make this thing work.

Anyway, now I’m here.  And relatively unscathed.  CdI from the air as we flew in at the end of a 5h30min journey from Nairobi in the late morning looked lush and densely forested.  Massive palm plantations were immediately the most prominent feature of the landscape, with palm (kernel) oil being a key source of raw material supply, certainly to our (Unilever’s) soap making industry in this part of Africa.

My first transition through Ivorian customs was pretty effortless.  The little airport here really is very neat and quite impressive by African standards.  It’s relatively modern and clean.  And it, like the rest of the country, is very … very … very French!!  I guess it’s not called French West Africa for nothing!  There is a very basic understanding of English amongst the public servants at, say, the airport.  I happened to arrive on the same flight as the Ivorian Athletic Team (able-bodied and para-athletes) who had just been competing in the African Athletics Champs in Mozambique.  So there was much excitement and photographing at arrivals as I walked through into the arrivals area of the terminal.  My ego was momentarily boosted until I realised they weren’t there to see one of the only white faces in the terminal building; they were there to meet their athletes!  To add insult to injury, even my pre-arranged driver hadn’t pitched up.  So I was soon humbled as I have been on numerous occasions these past few hours and days!

Although very tropical, with a constant light cloud-cover that insulates the atmosphere enhancing the humidity build-up, today was pretty mild, although I do realise I was exerting no effort aside from staying awake and breathing.  Despite that I did find myself pushing out some beads of perspiration as I jammed myself into a minibus loaded with a troop of Arabic-speaking folk that drove and dropped us at various hotels.  I was glad that my hotel was one of those scheduled drop-off points!  My 6^th floor room has a great view of the sprawling lagoon around which a large part of Abidjan is located.  I was supposed to have been picked up and taken off to the factory during mid-afternoon, once I’d freshened up.  But eventually my work colleague here proposed that I just stay on in my room, relax and they’ll pick me up first thing in the morning rather than try to fight the afternoon traffic to get to the Factory and back again.  So tomorrow (Tuesday) will be my first opportunity to see the facilities here and recce out the set-up so I can prepare for my soap bar trials later in the week. 

Hopefully I’ll get to update you again “later”.

Istanbul Wanderings

16^th March: Istanbul, Turkey

(WARNING: this might be a bit of a sombre entry to my blog – but I’m glad … it means life’s calmed down a bit from my last entry!!)

I’ve been in Istanbul for 8 nights now and continue to love this place.

They say when buying property it’s ALL about LOCATION!!  LOCATION!!  LOCATION!!

I’ve realised that when staying in a hotel for an extended period of time, LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION is not a bad criterion as well.  But when considering property purchases and hotel accommodation in the right LOCATION there comes the demand of CA$H!!  CA$H!!  CA$H!!  You generally have to pay dearly for what you want – yes?

Well, the little boutique-type Radisson Blu Hotel that we (the South African Laundry Management Team) had been booked into on the Bosphorus (sea-front) on the European side of Istanbul was just perfect.  Ok, so the traffic noise wasn’t that desirable.  And the fact that my window was leaking on the first morning when I woke up meant that I was moved to a better room with a MUCH better view.  But on the whole the situation and location of the 40-or-so room hotel was just idyllic.

We happened to arrive in Istanbul in what has turned out to be the coldest week of the winter.  So by the late morning of the Tuesday (day after our arrival) it had begun to snow in the City for the first time this season.  Needless to say us Africans were like kids.  And our conference venue – a glass walled facility on the top of the hotel with 180° views of the Bosphorus and passing ships / boats was just stunning.  So I was happy to make that venue “home” for 7 nights.  By the weekend the weather had turned into something near spectacularly perfect (can you sense my awe and enthusiasm here??).  We had cloudless, windless days of between 14 and 17°C.  Who would have said that earlier in the week we were facing mild snow storms.  So much so that the rest of the Turkish Unilever R&D Team who happened to have all been away at a conference at a nearby (2hrs away) ski resort (YES, they were intending to work) were snowed in and weren’t allowed or able to leave the hotel for 48hrs because of the storm intensity and depth of snow that exceeded 1.5m in most places.  So whilst 95 of our R&D colleagues were holed up in some resort 2hrs away we made the most of our Laundry conference in Istanbul which was a good experience and very valuable i.t.o. face-to-face meetings and getting to know the cultural and working differences / challenges that face our Turkish / South African interactions when we try to work together and land projects.

Fortunately our colleagues were able to finally bus out of their snow prison in the nearby mountains on Thursday afternoon and resume work in the safety of the office from Friday.  By Friday afternoon those from the SA contingent that hadn’t returned home on the Thursday night (only 3 of us) were left to our devices for the weekend.  I don’t have too much to write about or report on; not after the “comedy of mishaps” that I reported in my previous blog writings.  But here are some of the observations I made whilst being a tourist in this entrancing city over the weekend:

·         As I snuck out of a meeting on Friday afternoon to start my weekend R&R time I couldn’t help but suppress a giggle at a guy who was in the meeting with us that let out such an almighty sneeze that he nearly blew himself off his chair and landed against the glass wall of the meeting room.  I was both impressed and astounded at his ability to regain his composure whilst I nearly lost mine!  Oh where was my camera to try to capture a moment?!

·         This city appears to be littered with stray shaggy dogs.  I am conscious of how many large, long-haired dogs I’ve seen during my stay here just wandering the streets and even curling up and sleeping in the melting snow.  It’s a strange phenomenon in this environment and somehow seems a-miss.

·         My friend Sadi and his twin (identical!) brother, Javer, were incredibly generous and gracious on Saturday taking Annelize, Thobile and I to the Old City (the original Constantinople) to do the regular sight-seeing “thing” that they’ve done innumerable times before.  We visited the Aya Sophya, previously constructed as a Christian place of worship in the mid 500’s AD then later turned into a mosque, which was quite extraordinary.  We visited the ancient water cistern.  We were inflicted by some minor shopping damage in the Grand Bazaar (and thanks to Sadi, who is a master-negotiator and seems to have a warmly familiar relationship with most people we bumped into, we managed to get a few Lira lobbed off our costs).  Enjoyed sipping apple tea at some key stops during our shopping escapade.  Mde a bee-line past the Blue Mosque on our way to locate Sadi’s car in the evening before dashing back through the manic Istanbul grid-locked streets to get to the hotel with 10 minutes to spare before Annelize & Thobile’s airport transfer arrived to whisk them off to catch their flight home to SA later that night.  And so I was suddenly left alone.  Relief.  And a strange emptiness.

·         But … I loved walking around own my own on Sunday afternoon – enjoying some “me” time after Annelize and Thobile had left me on Saturday night and returned to South Africa – and seeing how life happens in Istanbul on a Sunday. 

o   Hordes of people catching ferries across the Bosphorus (1.75TL per trip = 8ZAR) going about their Sunday lives. 

o   2 men –alongside MANY other fishermen – fishing in their suits as if they’d got sidetracked and forgotten to go to work.

o   A grandfather and his grandson just parking off on a park bench alongside the Bosphorus eating the local “pretzels” (I don’t know their Turkish name).

o   People target shooting with air guns at strings of balloons floating in the Bosphorus.  And here I thought the balloons were just a splash of colour on display at random locations along the waterfront … until I realised I was potentially in the line of fire whilst attempting to take some creative photos!!

o   Groups of friends lazing on Turkish carpets on cement terraces overlooking the Bosphorus and the European side of the city whilst drawing on their “hubbly bubblys” and being served tea by runners from the local café.

o   Couples sitting at tables next to the Bosphorus playing Backgammon – and most popular past time here in Turkey.

o   A ceramic pot Seller pushing a trolley full of ceramic pots in the mayhem of passing traffic trying to find a suitable “parking place”.

·         These were just some of the unusual sightings and photos I took during my 3hr ferry ride and walk between my hotel and back on Sunday afternoon.  It was a visual and experiential “feast”.  And it was made that much sweeter by the spectacular weather that I was so undeservingly spoilt with.

On Monday, after the attempted rest and recovery of the weekend had set in, I relocated to Asian side of Istanbul and to my new hotel where I normally stay.  Although it’s more spacious and the facilities are a little better, the LOCATION is NOWHERE near as nice and the costs are exorbitant.  But we swallow hard and commit it to “business”.

My week back in the office has been very busy.  I’ve just enjoyed a great Turkish dinner with Mehmet who reports through to me in Durban but sits here in Istanbul.  I’ve now over-eaten.

Tomorrow I am running trials at the powders factory for a short while.

On Thursday I fly with another colleague to Izmir to visit a Supplier.  I was hoping that this visit could happen on Friday so that I could spend the night at this apparently picturesque and popular coastal city, but alas it hasn’t worked out that way.  But I have stretched the day and will only fly back to Istanbul at midnight on Thursday night before spending Friday in the office wrapping up some Team work there. 

Since there are no return flights to SA on a Friday night I am forced to stay over till Saturday night.  So I foresee myself having to enure (ha, ha) another Saturday in this crazy-amazing place.

And then it’s HOME again on by Sunday afternoon when I have to face the reality of a non-functional car and repairs.  Oh joy.  Reality with a bump.

So what have I learnt during this past month of travel?

It’s NO fun being sick in a foreign country when you’re expected to lead a physically demanding piece of work and deliver on a project (Algeria).

It’s NO fun nearly missing your departing flights from a tenuous politically unstable Region (Algeria / Maghreb).

It’s NO fun breaking down in your car with a mate’s 7 month pregnant wife and 18month old son in rural kwa Zulu-Natal and having the AA tell you that they can’t locate you on the map!!

It’s NO fun racing back to Durban on a HOT Sunday with no electrical reliability in your tiring car and hoping, for 2hrs whilst trying not to break the speed limit, that your vehicle won’t come to a grinding halt … again … and hoping to make it home in time to catch a connecting flight to somewhere else!

It’s NO fun busting your butt to make it to the airport, to take off on a long haul flight, and then to have to return to your destination after 2hrs of dumping fuel over Pretoria on some poor unsuspecting farmer’s maize field only to have to delay your departure by 17hrs for various other legal and technical reasons.

It IS fun finally LEAVING Algeria!!

It IS great fun being in my favourite place in the Berg with my mates, making turning 40 tolerable!

It IS fun travelling overseas for Business with good business colleagues / mates!

It IS fun being in a new city with a rich culture and having some time to ENJOY it!

I guess aspects of life are bitter-sweet.  And sometimes the “bitter” makes the “sweet” that much sweeter!

Ah, two other things I have just been reminded of that I should capture for my future recollection.

Firstly, FOOD and EATING here in Turkey remains a highlight and experience in itself.  We were hosted by a colleague for take away supper at her home last week which was fun.  It’s always nice getting to see friends in their home.

And then last night I was taken to a well-known Istanbul restaurant chain called “Deweli” where I had a sampling smorgasbord of different Turkish food types, ranging from raw beef mince rolled with herbs that you put in a lettuce leaf and each as-is (I think that may have been the culprit for my super runny tummy this morning??  Go figure!!) to yoghurt blended with egg plant and herbs on light seeded shwarmas (?) to pistachio kebaps (oh my goodness!!), Gavurdag salata, Tandir, Adana kebap, … and a sweet dessert layered with cheese – what a winner.  Although I don’t think I could eat like this every day lest I become a rival to the Michelin Man!

Secondly, I am reminded and amazed by the Japan earthquake & tsunami devastation that has taken place since Friday’s disaster.  Only a few short weeks ago I commented in a previous blog entry about the earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand.  The world surely is shifting in more ways than one.

Finally, I should comment on the fact that amidst the chaos of our 95 R&D colleagues that got stuck in the snow last week, some of them had gone to the ski spot to enjoy its amenities on the weekend before.  In a freak succession of events 3 team members from the same (packaging) team all damaged themselves.  One girl fell and broke her arm on the Saturday.  At the same time one of the guys slipped, bumped his head and suffered some memory loss for a few hours!  The next day another girl from the same team also had a slip (I think) and came away only to discover a day or so later that she’d cracked her wrist.  Things happen in threes?  Well, I don’t know about that but the semi-superstitious Turks might believe it.  Needless to say this Team’s Manager is a little anxious about his well-being and wonders whether it’s a matter of time before he is in the line of fire.

Find an opportunity to put Istanbul (or Turkey) on your “must visit” list.  It’s just amazing!!

Made that much richer by some amazing (work) friends that I have here.  Hurrah for work!!  (gotta find the bright side of it somehow, eh?)

The 4th Decade!

I am just a little intrigued and tickled by just how the recent 12 days have evolved.

I fear I could get bogged down in much detail as I journal this, but because time isn’t on my side to allow me to elaborate, and since it probably won’t excite too many of you much, I’ll try my best to précis it.  So here goes.

22 February to 3 March: Oran, Algeria

Contrary to many colleagues and friends – and needles to say, my – gut feel, this little business excursion into the “frontline of politically turbulent North Africa” turned out to be a most peaceful and productive time amidst the turmoil in the Region.  Access into and out of that country was, for me, maybe the easiest it’s ever been in my 3 previous visits there.  There was not even a hint of any security instability, although I won’t deny that the hot topic on most people’s lips was the ongoing chaos and inhumane treatment of neighbouring Libya’s citizens and the knock-on effects in Tunisia due to fleeing immigrants.  The TV news was plastered with blow-by-blow updates of Algeria’s unstable neighbours whilst she, herself, was quite unaffected (on the surface).

As a result the job that I and my colleagues had to perform whilst there was made significantly more productive and less hindered.  We no longer abided by the tight curfew times we’d set ourselves.  And, in fact, due to the work time pressures we operated at the other extreme, only leaving Site at 2.30am on the first night, 11.30pm on the second night, and thereafter, for the subsequent 4 nights, left no earlier than 9pm.  So we worked ourselves to a standstill, quite literally.  I picked up a hectic bout of flu on my second day there and spent the rest of the week nursing not only symptoms of body ache, running nose, aching joins, and stiffness, but also a deep sense of self-pity!  So by the end of the week I’d decided to stop being selfish and ended up generously sharing my germs with my 2 travelling colleagues as well as our one driver.  How selfless was that of me!

Anyway, we had a surprisingly productive and successful week in Algeria and I returned home via France, almost a year to the day, on 3^rd March feeling quite relieved that all our hard work had paid off.  The Team there have turned the place around – physically and morale – so that was a huge treat to see and participate in.

3 to 6 March: Kwa Zulu-Natal, South Africa

I landed back in Durban on afternoon of Thursday 3^rd March, arriving back into sweltering and humid Durban summer heat after enjoying mild Algerian winter days and chilly evenings.

On Friday I found myself repacking bags and heading out to the Drakensberg for my 40^th birthday weekend celebrations.

By late 2010 I had already run out of enthusiasm to celebrate with any hype for my birthday.  There was NO chance I was going to make any effort to pull something together for myself (a little presumptuous to think people would want to celebrate, really!).  And as things turned out, I ended up having to find time in a brewing crazy travel schedule to even try to be home for that weekend, let alone plan anything.  So in hindsight I was hugely grateful that my good mate, Clive, took me by the shoulders asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, didn’t take no for an answer, and ended up booking us 2 chalets at my favourite “retreat” in the Drakensberg at Injesuthi.  I abdicated from all planning and determined in myself that I was just going to arrive.  And I pretty much did that.  Well, almost …

The weekend ended up being only Clive, his 7-month pregnant wife, Gen, and their 16 month old son Luke, and my other good friends, Gert and Annelize.  I couldn’t have handled too much more than that.

Friday saw me wake exhausted, after still taking some medication to ward off my flu, whilst also battling certain sleep deprivation.  Enthusiasm for life had all but drained out of numerous holes that have recently developed in my “armour”, so the weekend was hoping to be temporary respite and recovery time.  By 2pm on Friday afternoon I’d picked Gen and Luke up, having offered to give them a lift to the Berg since Clive was only able to get away from the office later that afternoon and so I had hoped to get Gen and Luke to the campsite way before sunset so Luke could be settled and in bed at a reasonable hour.  Gert and Annelize were going to be following us out, followed by Clive.  I had a good 90minute head start on them all and I was on track to get us to the Berg by 4.30pm, assuming Luke didn’t dictate different time lines and mandatory stops.

I should know now that it’s important to pay attention to red warning lights on one’s car dashboard, even if one doesn’t know completely what they mean.  But I had a destination to reach come hell-or-high-water, AND I had a pregnant Mom and weary son as passengers that I just wanted to get to the campsite and have them settled and comfortable.  Hmmm… noble intent, bad decision.

I’ve since learn that the little red glowing battery light means that one should act soon.  I discovered that 14.7km from our destination, at a point where cell phone signal was at its limits, the road was about to deteriorate into pot-hole and corrugated disbandonment, and help was not fast in coming.  So on a little rise in the road my car suddenly came to an abrupt powerless stop.  She remained idling, but had no ability to move forward and could only roll backwards.  Like a catastrophically damaged human body that tries to stay alive by keeping only vital organs and bodily function running by shutting down non-essential organs, my little Audi started systematically forcing me to disengage non-essential stuff; first the radio then the air con, then the fan, then the electric windows then the power steering and finally just forward momentum.  And there we sat.  14.7km from Injesuthi, in VERY rural KZN, 90 minutes from sunset with no sign of other cars and not just a few passers by heading on their merry way ahead of Friday night parties or social gatherings.  It was a little unnerving to day the least.  I was irritated with myself and may car.  And not just a little distraught.  Gen remained her composure and continued to pacify Luke who, despite having started playing up and whining 80km earlier on, was now strangely calm and passive and maybe even a little entertained by the unfolding saga.  I didn’t think that would last long and I was NOT keen for pregnant Gen and little Luke to now be stuck with me in far-flung rural KZN!  Not on my watch!!  But this was now too late to wish for. 

And then something of an Angel came along called Bheki.  And as it turned out Bheki worked for KZN Wildlife and was returning from Injesuthi to Monks Cowl (in another part of the Berg).  Whilst I was on the phone to the AA trying to explain – with NO success – what my location was, I also managed to negotiate with Bheki to take pity on us and tow us with his KZN Wildlife Toyota Hilux 4x4 to Injesuthi.  He graciously obliged, despite clearly being on a mission to head home fort eh weekend himself.  I managed to dig my unused tow rope out of my heavily laden boot, hooked my car to Bheki’s 4x4, and off we went at a relative snail’s pace.  Within 2km of my breakdown point I’d already driven over the tow rope twice and shredded it irreparably.  By now I was stuck on a serious – and I mean SERIOUS – incline practically in the middle of the road.  Bhekis 4x4 was clearly taking strain, but he willingly dashed off into the neighbouring area and returned with a REAL tow rope.  He lashed my car to his and off we went again, at sub-snails pace just so we could summit the 1.5km (I estimate) hill.  We made it to the top. And then that’s where the tar ran out.  And then it was gravel and rocks.  For the next 12km we charged along, as Bheki gained towing confidence whilst the tow rope got shorter after I rode over and snapped his newly acquired rope yet another 2 times!!  I was a little concerned about the sulphurous odour that seemed to be in the air, but I thought nothing more of it.  I just kept my hands firmly gripped to the heavy steering wheel trying to steer my powerless car whilst periodically having to stand on my powerless brakes to keep from slipping off the road or ramming into Bheki’s tow hitch.  Gen, on the other hand, was remarkably calm and tried starting to sing “The wheels on the bus go round and round” and “Ba-ba black sheep” for the 37^th time in as many minutes to keep Luke’s growing discontent from erupting into a full crying match (understandably so; this was no longer fun for any of us!!  Adventurous, maybe; Fun, NOT!!)  I then wondered why Bheki was running his windscreen wipers at a super-fast rate.  That did seem quite unnecessary.  It was probably 1,500m from the campsite, as the sun was sinking below the imposing mountains surrounding Injesuthi, that Bheki ground his 4x4 to an abrupt halt and all I could see was smoke pouring from his dashboard.  By this time, Gert & Annelize who had set off from Durban maybe 1 hour after me, and Clive who had left 2 hours after us, had caught up to us and had pulled up right be hind me.  As I launched out of my car I found Bheki tearing at his car radio frantically trying to pull it out of its casing whilst acrid sulphurous smoke continued to bleed out of the dashboard.  As it turned out Bheki had sacrificed his – ok, KNZ Wildlife’s! – 4x4 to tow me to my destination and now he was without wheels.  His car had developed some electrical fault of its own that had been sparked by the radio spontaneously combusting and this had clearly also set the windscreen wipers on a mission of their own every time he tried to accelerate!!  At this point Clive – who had broken the sound barrier to come and save his wife & child from the dangers of rural KZN and my Audi’s ineptitude to reach a simple off-road destination – volunteered to tow me to the campsite whilst Bheki did a u-turn in his 4x4 and limped past us in an attempt to return to Monk’s Cowl.  Since there was no cell phone signal in the area I was never able to follow up on where Bheki made it to that night, but hopefully the little bit of cash I gave him either saw him manage to disband his 4x4 and catch a taxi home, or enabled him to drink away his sorrows at having to save some white dude and a pregnant lady and baby from the wilds of rural KZN so they could be joined by the rest of their mates for a birthday weekend in relative comfort!  THANK YOU BHEKI!!

We rolled into camp and found our chalets by 19h00 on Friday night.  All I could do was laugh and hope that by the end of the weekend we could come up with a plan to disband my car legally in the KZN Conservation area, or get it repaired, or somehow drive it out of my favourite part of rural heaven.  But I wasn’t going to let this ruin a perfectly good weekend.  Hell, after all I’d just survived 8 days in Algeria.  Why should by car’s turning on me and assaulting me in the company of my friends put me on the back foot?

Needless to say the rest of the weekend – or Saturday the 5^th March – my official 40^th birthday, was just idyllic.  I slept in.  I was treated to coffee & rusks in bed to the now-all-too-familiar tunes of “Ba-Ba Black sheep” (sick joke!).  We had a massive slap-up breakfast together before embarking on a walk up van Heyningen’s Pass – always a winner.  But NOT ideal when one’s recovering from chest phlegm build up and flu, is on antibiotics, is a little unfit AND is struggling with the altitude.  But I maintained my composure and dignity; after all, being 40 had nothing to do with my current condition.  Surely?  Gert & Annelize – Duracell Machines of note!! – took the lead in our walk.  Clive, with Luke strapped to his back and mediocre touches of sunscreen applied to his face made gallant strides to keep up.  And I just concentrated on breathing – or rather minimising my heaving!!  Gen, the only wise one amongst our party, elected to have a quiet morning “home”. 

I must say that I did head out on our walk with renewed confidence that all might turn out well with the world.  Gert – my technical hero and local MacGyver – had made acquaintance with Robert, the campsites maintenance man.  It turned out Robert had a car battery charger in his shed.  So after our breakfast and before our walk Clive had towed my to within spitting distance of Robert’s shed, Gert had effortlessly removed my battery, and this was now soaking up renewed energy from the local generator.  I was strangely recharged myself.  But it didn’t last long.  The walk sucked me dry.  But ego constrained me to push through and finally Gert (MacGyver), Annelize (Duracell Bunny) and I (sloth) made it to the summit which ALWAYS offers a view that’s a delight to behold.  We’d lost Clive along the way – about 90mins into our walk – as he realised Luke’s contentedness levels weren’t going to hold out and Ba-Ba Black sheep and The Wheels on the Bus” just weren’t going to cut it out on the trail; not after their soothing capabilities had been stretched to the limit by Gen the evening before in the car!!  So Clive gallantly returned home allowing MacGyver, Duracell Bunny & I to summit 30 minutes later.  It was just GREAT.  Check out Face Book for some of the photos.

Anyway, we 3 returned to camp by 3pm somewhat broken by the mountain but satisfied by the challenge.

Our evening was spent recovering, sharing stories, eating copious amounts of braai meat, pap and salad, and nursing a 2005 bottle of Rubicon Merlot that I’d been given as a gift last year.  I won’t claim that we stopped when that bottle was over.  But playing Uno and laughing a lot did make the rest of the evening merge into a satisfying and happy memory with special friends on a special occasion.  Closing the night off with some philosophical life-discussions under a start-flooded sky with some cigars was just perfect!

And then the day of reckoning dawned.  Sunday 6^th March.  They day of “rescue” or “abandon”.  Was I going to get my little Audi out of them mountains or was I going to have to abandon her to the elements.  I was believing for the former but preparing for the latter!  After another slap-up breakfast we loaded our vehicles with all our baggage – appearing to have hardly made a dent in our weekend’s food reserves.  I distributed my worldly goods between the other 2 cars attempting to leave my baby as light as possible and, if she broke down en route home, not having to worry too much about transferring the contents to the other 2 cars driving in convoy back to Durban with me.  I started my car up at 10h20 on Sunday morning and gunned it out of there.  As long as there was life in that battery I had to make mileage, cover ground, and do it with NO hesitation.  I paid little attention to the sound of rocks ripping at my car’s undercarriage and the potholes that wanted to swallow us up.  I made the fateful 14.7km journey back to where we’d broken down on the Friday night and then made it the 30km back to the main road.  And then the further 30km back to the N3 at Estcourt.  There had been a few moments when it felt like she was going to skip a beat.  But I remained in denial.  All power-draw equipment was off.  I was driving with windows down, even cautious to use my indicators.  I was going to save as much power as I could.  I gunned it down the N3 towards Durban, passing Clive’s folks home at Curry’s Post where I was planning on making for and leaving my car in case she was flailing at that point.  Since she was showing no signs of shutting down – aside from that tell-tale red glowing battery light on my dashboard – so I pressed on with resolute determination that we were going to make it home.  Besides I (and Annelize, the Duracell Bunny) had a plane to catch from Durban later that afternoon, so the stakes for success in getting home were high!!

Well, long story short I pulled in to my drive way in Durban 45mins ahead of the other two cars (I’m SURE I didn’t break the speed limit!!!) without my battery having crippled me.  That was 1pm on Sunday afternoon.  By 3pm Gert and Annelize were at my front door to pick me up and take us to the airport.  By 5pm Annelize and I were on a flight to Johannesburg with 6 other Unilever R&D colleagues, all of us bound for Istanbul, Turkey later that night.

By 7.30pm the 8 of us merry-makers were crammed into Business Class on our Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul which took off at 8pm. 

By 8.20pm we were circling Pretoria dumping fuel in preparation for returning to Johannesburg Airport because of a faulty landing gear on our plane!

2hours and 20 minutes later we were able to make our final approach for Johannesburg airport where we landed amidst a blaze of emergency vehicles.  All passengers were instructed to deplane with our hand luggage, return to the terminal building, and await further instruction.

By 11pm the Unilever contingent had found our way to a Business lounge to scrounge some food – there’s NOT much happening at Johannesburg Airport at that hour on a Sunday night!! – and still remaining amazingly high-and fun-spirited. 

By midnight we were instructed that the crew were no longer cleared to fly for safety and time-awake reasons so our flight was now delayed indefinitely.

By 2am the Business Class passengers were being checked into the Intercontinental Hotel adjacent to the airport – the Economy Class guys were ferried to another nearby hotel.

And by 2.30am I’d switched my light out.

And so began my 41^st Year!!

7^th March: Johannesburg to Istanbul

By Monday morning we were all back at the check-in counter at 09h30 to be informed that our flight was further delayed from a 11h00 departure to a 1pm departure.

By Monday 1pm we were winging our way out of Johannesburg and heading for Istanbul, Turkey, where I will be for the coming 2 weeks if all goes according to plan.  But right now the plan doesn’t seem to smooth if the past 2 weeks are anything to go by.  But hey, life with a bit of adventure isn’t too bad.

So as I write this we are 45mins from landing at Ataturk Airport in Istanbul.  Apparently it’s 5°C and raining at our destination.  We will be staying at a stunning hotel on the Bosphorus on the European side of the City for the coming 3 nights before I then join another team for 2 nights away elsewhere.  I then have the weekend to recover – well, Sunday at least, seeing as our workshop ends on Saturday evening.  And then I have a very full week planned for next week before I fly back to SA on either the 17^th or the 19^th.

Flight and Travel Stats:

·         Destination: Istanbul, Turkey

·         Airline: Turkish Air

·         Flight: TK041

·         Plane: Airbus A340-300

·         Class: Business

·         Seat: 5K (window)

·         Runway: 21 (ex JNB)

·         Flying time: Johannesburg to Istanbul = 09h15min

·         Total travel duration: Depart Durban 15h00 GMT; Arrive Istanbul 20h30 GMT (+1 day) = total transit time 29.5hrs

Exchange rates:

100ZAR = 10.4 EUR

100ZAR = 14.5 US$

100ZAR = 23.3 New Turkish Lira

Unlikely Surprises

Tuesday night, 22^nd & Wednesday 23^rd February 2011 at various locations between South Africa, France and Al/ger/ia

Flight and Travel Stats:

·           Destination: Oran, Al/ger/ia (via Paris, France and Al/gi/ers, Al/ger/ia

·           Airline: Air France (pathetic airline)

·           Flight: AF 995 & AF 1554

·           Plane: Airbus A380 (awesome machine!) & A319

·           Class: Business

·           Seat: 72L & 4F

·           Runway: 21 (ex JNB) & 08 ex PAR)

·           Flying time: Johannesburg to Paris = 10h33min & Paris to Al/gi/ers = 2h50min

·           Total travel duration: Depart Durban 15h00 GMT; Arrive Oran 13h00 GMT+1day (=23hrs in transit)

Flying Air France really doesn’t provide a huge amount of entertainment.  Trying to decipher French with my limited vocab that I’ve developed is about as much fun as it gets.  Flying in the A380 is quite exciting, but, as with most services run by the French, it’s quite a bland experience (Oops, was that very judgmental?).  The only bit of intrigue I had on the flight from Joburg to Paris was overhearing the guy behind me phoning what sounded like his numerous girlfriends to bid them farewell before leaving for Russia via France.  Casanova!

As I now wing my way from Paris to Al/gi/ers I’m looking out on a wishy-washy bed of pale pink clouds blanketing France as the sun rises, with numerous other airlines criss-crossing the blue sky leaving turbulent vapour trails behind them.  I can only hope that our Pilots have learnt well from those “Seconds From Disaster” movies that play themselves over and over on TV about mid-air crashes due to incorrect altitude communications.  Anyway, perish the thought, Derek!!

I’m also able to see a waning half-moon in the sky and am reminded that a year ago to the week I was making the same journey to the very same destination but under a full moon.  I somehow seemed to time my 2010 trips on full moons during the first quarter last year; January full moon saw me in Morocco, February full moon was in Al/ger/ia, and March full moon was in Thailand & Canada.  April full moon was in the Drakensberg.  I highlight this for no other reason than that it seemed to be a profound thing at the time that stuck with me.  Now a year later it seems like a similar pattern is emerging … but just not on the full moon.

And how the politics of North Africa’s Arab States has been disturbed of late.  At the best of times Al/ger/ia has offered little attraction as a travel destination, neither for Business nor pleasure purposes.  And at this time that appeal isn’t necessarily enhanced.  Although I am confident – and am assured – that from a safety point of view things are cautiously stable.  So needless to say that this little trip (8 days) is likely to be a bit of an adventure as much as it will be a challenge to land a critical project for Unilever in the Region.  Needless to say it will be good to see some of my work colleagues here again, although due to tight travel restrictions to the Country / in this Region we are running with a skeleton staff, so my Moroccan friends will not be here.  Although I will be joined by my Supply Chain colleague, Seha, from Singapore, and Processing colleague Suman from India.  So that will be good.

Anyway, let me not launch with too long an intro to my trip; at this stage the info is “data” only, nothing too exciting.  Best I spare my battery for the 6hr lay-over in Al/gi/ers in case I need to work.  Hopefully it won’t be spent dodging picketing political revellers.

PS I am being a little cautious about what country & city names I use here since I will be publishing this on the Web and am not too eager to have my destination explicitly available when being searched.  Call me over-cautious.  So excuse the phonetic spelling of my destination J

22h45 (21h45 GMT), Wednesday 23^rd February, Sheraton Hotel, O/ran, Al/ger/ia

Quick update…and probably the last for a short while.

All’s quiet on the ground.  The arrival in the country was uneventful and, surprisingly, actually the smoothest I’ve ever had when visiting here – this being my 4^th visit.

Security checks have been effortless; airport transfers smooth; airport check-ins quite friendly; it’s bizarre and COMPLETELY foreign to me for this country.  But I’m loving being surprised.  I'm also thinking that my feeble attempts at trying to become familiar with some French in recent months has helped more than I realised.  The bummer is these people can switch to Arabic easily and then I'm poked!!

Maybe it’s like going to a movie.  Sometimes you hear so much negativity about a movie only to end up going yourself (when starved of anything to do) and you discover that actually the movie is a winner.

Well, this Country still doesn’t rate as a prime holiday destination – not close – but I am pleasantly surprised.

And furthermore, the guys at the Factory seem prepared for a change.  Ok, this is based on what I’ve been TOLD; I wasn’t able to get into the Factory this evening to SEE for myself.  So tomorrow’s events could unfold very differently.  But for now I’m just enjoying being surprised whilst also trying to subconsciously do some contingency planning.

It’s great to have Seha and Suman here for support and backup and as extra eyes, so my load is made easier.  But still the confidence of success is pretty high.  People are buoyant and optimistic.  The hotel is pretty decent, the food was fine.  The bed is firm.  Hopefully sleep will be sweet.

And HOPEFULLY when I report back again it won’t be from a world that’s “crumbled” around us and where the wheels have fallen off the bus!!

I see on CNN that there is still significant tension in some of the neighbouring countries.  And at the same time it’s terribly sad to see the devastation following Christchurch’s earthquake.  Life seems cruel sometimes, whether through man or nature.

But God remains good.  Wow!

Bye.

What's in a Home

It's good to be back in familiar surrounds.  Even if it is sweltering hot.  You gotta love Durban in February!!

There are a few peculiarities that make being home pleasant; or at least they're gentle reminders that you are in fact HOME.

Don't take for granted the softness of our 2-ply toilet paper!  The luxury stuff in India is something of a hybrid between thin wax wrap and crinkle paper.  Allow me to not comment on its effectiveness here ...

Secondly, it's good to get back onto the squash court AND beat myregular squash partener too!!  (thanks buddy, I needed that morale boost!!)

My airport pick-up upon arrival at Durban airport was a little less confusing than the TWO different cars that awaited me at Mumbai airport when I arrived there!  I was quite happy to be ushered to the Hotel's sleek black  E240 Mercedes Benz Courtesy Pick-up ... only to discover they had come on the wrong day and I was supposed to be in another taxi.  I was swiftly down-graded to a Tata sedan.  Glad that that car switch happened out of the public eye else I'd have felt a little more humbled than I already was!!

South Africa knows how to advertise big public events.  Like the recent Soccer World Cup.  I was a little (ok, actually VERY) surprised to see only 2 posters - yes, TWO posters - advertising the upcoming Cricket World Cup to be co-hosted with Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.  TWO?? Why so little advertising in this cricket-sick nation?  One explanation was that EVERYONE watches cricket so there's no need to notify the public of the inevitable.  Hmmm ... I wonder!  With 7 days to go to kick-off (or is that bat-off?) I was just a little surprised!

Then there's the fun of bumping into people that you know at the airport.  As I stood in the security check queue at Joburg Airport to get through to domestic departures I happened to glance over my shoulder and see an old friend of mine, Brenden, a few places behind me.  Blow me down if he'd not just flown in from Dubai on the same flight as me.  Then one coincidence led to the next.  He'd been sitting 2 rows behind me on that same flight but we'd been separated by a galley so never got to see one another; I was in seat 7A and he in 9A!

As we made our way up to the Business Lounge in Joburg we then discovered that he was on a flight home to PE that was departing 5mins after my flight to Durban.  And - wait for it - we had the exact same seat number for our homeward journeys; 3A.  Ok ... maybe I was a little tired, but this was just too bizarre.  What are the chances??

Good to see you in Joburg, Brenden!!  Glad I could hear a bit about Sri Lanka and you about India.

I now prepare for my next Business trip at the end of this week.  But - with not just a little relief - it looks like this one might be hanging in the balance.  ALGERIA looks like it's declining into civil unrest hot on the heels of Egypt, Tunisia and Yemen.  Hurrah; I might be off the hook ... for a short while anyway!!

Watch this space ...

Farewell India

Friday night, 11^th February … somewhere over the Arabian Sea en route from Mumbai to Dubai.

Flight stats…

  Distance Mumbai to Dubai: 1,900km

  Flight duration: 2h45min

  Airline: Emirates

  Flight: EK509

  Plane: Airbus A340

  Class: Business

  Seat: 7A

  Departure time: 22h50 India time = 21h20 UAE time = 19h20 SA time

  Runway: 27

The MS Word Thesaurus says that synonyms for the word “prejudice” are “chauvinism (n.)”, “bias (n.)”, or “influence (v.)”, with other descriptors being discrimination, contrast, intolerance, injustice, narrow-mindedness, unfairness, preconception, slant and distort.

I arrived in Mumbai 1 week and a few hours ago not knowing what to expect.  I now leave marginally wiser, quite humbled, and in some ways not just a little confused.

I guess the single thing that hits most visitors to India is the sheer number of people everywhere.  For a city of around 18 million people (I heard numbers quoted that ranged from 16 to 20 million, so let me go with an average!) I guess one would expect to bump into the odd person, quite literally, at every turn.  In fact, if you’re walking on the pavement it’s best you keep your line and DON’T turn if you don’t want to bump into someone.  Although this inevitably means you’ll get swept along with the heaving crowd and land up where you didn’t want to be.  So some intervention is inevitable if you do want to get out of the main-stream flow and make it to where you want to get to.  Or, alternatively, just take a taxi and let the driver do the thinking and crowd management for you.

The second thing that certainly flawed me – and I was warned about this, but the society / culture that I come from doesn’t model this in ANY way, shape or form – is the massive, MASSIVE polarity between the “haves” and the have-nots”.  But the fascinating thing in this culture is that all parties in the spectrum of this part of humanity is somehow content with their lot in life.  Nowhere have I seen or experienced such “harmony” (although this did leave me quite edgy and uneasy).  I guess karma is just not a familiar concept to me; the seeming contentedness that people convey in living despite their lot in life, believing that if they continue to live this life peacefully and as satisfied as possible, they will return in the next life to a better lot.  Wow, I guess that does mean that one tends to be determined to live with a sense of self-discipline and determination to do good and not rock the proverbial boat.  But on the other hand it is scary to know that if you stuff up then your success in the next life is pretty tenuous, and there’s every possibility you could return as that little mosquito that I saw hovering around the selection of cereal at the buffet breakfast in the hotel this morning.  I guess that’s one of the luckier mosquitos in India; living it up around the fruit bowl in Mumbai’s Marriott Conference Centre Hotel trying to pretend it’s not being attracted to the nearby UV bug killer.  But just think, if that little critter hasn’t sucked blood from some sacred animal – humans included? – its (relatively) short life as a mosquito could be fast nearing its end and it might have the opportunity to return to planet earth incarnated in some upgraded human form – assuming, of course, being human is the pinnacle of life-form!

I should be careful here, lest I start judging a belief system I know little about.  Which puts me back in the vulnerable position I was in when I first started writing about my India trip about a week ago when I philosophised about “prejudices”.

Let me quickly make mention of what’s been happening over the past few days since I last commented on life.

My safe arrival back into Mumbai on the train from Khamgaon last Sunday saw me enter a life of luxury – maybe a little like being reincarnated into a better life when compared to the 4-berth sleeper compartment I’d just spent the previous two nights in whilst crossing the rural Indian landscape.  Like that little mosquito I referred to, my previous life on the train had definitely been a down-grade from my business class seat on Emirates Airlines flying to Mumbai from South Africa.  Although the train experience had been nothing short of a fantastic, memorable mini-adventure that I shall remember with fondness (??) for years to come, it was a welcome relief to walk into my 5-star safe cocoon on the 5^th floor of the Marriott Renaissance Hotel overlooking a lake and a part of the Mumbai skyline beyond.  I immediately knew I was going to prefer living on this end of the lifestyle spectrum (compared to the crammed train compartment) – some pampered luxury at Unilever’s expense for 5 nights.

I met up with a great colleague and friend of mine, Seha (a Turkish colleague who now works for Unilever from Singapore) and we spent Sunday breakfast catching up together in the hotel.  A vehicle and driver was at my disposal for the day so I managed to convince Seha that we didn’t need to start working immediately but that she should join me on a city outing-cum-shopping “spree”, which we duly did.  We didn’t get terribly far, visiting 2 Indian clothing boutiques trying to sniff out a bargain on an Indian silk Sari.  She eventually had success and we returned to the comforts of the hotel by 3pm with the receipt for a Sari which had been guaranteed would be sent to a local Tailor for some adjusting, and would be delivered back to the hotel later in the week.  Hmmm… that remained to be seen!  As things turned out the shop owner remained true to his word!!

Upon returning from our shopping stint I periodically gazed at the welcoming pool and pool deck from the balcony of the lounge where Seha and I settled down to half-heartedly discuss work for the rest of the afternoon until dinner time.  I’m not sure that that was the best investment of my weekend time in a foreign City when I could’ve been out taking in the sights, sounds, smells and spitting pedestrians of Mumbai.  But believe it or not that’s what I settled for.  Poor prioritising!!

By evening most of the rest of the foreign contingent for our workshop had arrived at the hotel; the 4 from the UK (Andy x 2, Rob and Duncan), 1 from Holland (Christina), 4 from Brazil (Janette, Janaina, Guillaume and Ligia), 1 from Thailand (Jiraporn), Seha from Singapore, and Derek – the informal Team photographer – from Durban.

Our workshop started on Monday morning.  We were based at the hotel where we were joined by about 15 of our Mumbai R&D and Supply Chain counterparts / colleagues.  Our working days were long (08h30 – 19h00), but were filled with good topics of discussion, good food and not just a little laughter.  On Monday evening we were allowed to enjoy a relaxed evening at the hotel.  I even managed to impress myself by going for a cycle in the hotel gym!  That was the first and last time those sweaty halls had the pleasure of my company, I have to admit.  It was a one-time wonder!!

Tuesday evening saw us foreigners having an opportunity to go to a local market.  But thanks to a teleconference with the Nigerian Factory Team that I ended up hosting in my room with 4 of the other workshop delegates concerning recent Project challenges in Nigeria I missed that bus (literally) and so missed out on a night on the town.  This bummed me out until I learnt the next morning that the guys had sat in traffic for over 2hrs to get to the local market which was shutting by the time they arrived there at 9pm!  So they didn’t get to see much in the end themselves!

On Wednesday night we were treated to an evening of games and a dinner out on the hotel lawns adjacent to the lake.  The foreign guys – that included me!! – had our heads wrapped in traditional turbans whilst the women had their hands done up with henna paint artwork and beadwork.  It was a good evening under the hazy Indian sky.  The weather here didn’t change for the whole week.  It’s as predictable and stable as one would hope for on any Island holiday; sunny, not excessively humid, wind-still with temperatures in the mid to late 20’s.  The key missing component or twist in the tail was that we WEREN’T on holiday on some exotic island.  So in spite of all the other ingredients being in place – good weather, great food and fantastic company – it was all still BUSINESS!

Thursday saw us having a change of scenery by continuing our workshop at HUL (Hindustan Unilever Ltd.) Head Office nearby.  And WOW, what a Head Office Facility they have.  The building – another cocoon or oasis amidst the Mumbai madness and filth – is an experience to encounter.  It houses just on 1,000 employees – not too unlike Unilever H/O in Durban – but has the feel of a 4-storey shopping centre fitted with an air conditioned domed glass roof central “street” flanked by passageways from which the various wings branch off that house the different Business Functions / Operations.  There is a 4 storey waterfall at one end, a glass-domed atrium at the arrivals / reception at the other end, and all the offices in between, with hanging walkways connecting the upper levels at each floor.  There is a grocery store that stocks all Unilever products, a florist, a beauty salon, 2 banks, an ice cream (Walls / Ola = Unilever brand) shop, coffee shop, couches / pause areas, umpteen free drinks / coffee stations, a massive canteen, a crèche for employee’s children, complete Wi-Fi coverage, and (apparently somewhere in the basement) a gym with a badminton court.  On the same property they are busy constructing a 120 room 5-star hotel and training centre for Unilever employees which is where the likes of our Team would stay in future, instead of utilising city hotels and fighting the traffic.  Wow – what is this place?  Did I say something earlier on about the disparity between the haves and have-nots?  Did I not also comment about the corporate social responsibility that I saw this great company (note me scoring brownie points!!) offering to the remote community of Khamgaon?  So how does one reconcile this impressive “opulence” with the poverty out on the nearby pavement?  I won’t pretend to try to answer that aside from acknowledging that Unilever’s products do touch the lives of millions of people around the world – and even just in this one country – hourly!

Anyway, that was some free PR work I was doing on behalf of this fine Company in order to fund the future success and existence of this Blog.

We spent Thursday and Friday in various meetings and sessions with the Mumbai Team at Head Office.

On Thursday evening some 18 of us were ushered into cars that meandered through the traffic rush to the southern end of the “Island” / peninsula that is Mumbai.  Here some of us got to see the famous “Gateway to India” – a plaza and big monument that celebrates the arrival of the King & Queen of England in 1914 when India was still a British Colony.  That was great just strolling between the myriad of sightseers, locals, hawkers and beggars on the plaza in front of this iconic Mumbai landmark sipping masala tea and flashing photos at every turn.  I could’ve spent half a day there just watching the passing parade, photographing the changing scenery and faces.  But time didn’t allow for this as we were hurried back to the car then off to the National Performing Arts Company Theater to watch a traditional dance show done by an Indian woman accompanied by 5 musicians – all ballies, but clearly accomplished musicians – playing their local traditional instruments whilst this dancer danced out a well known Hindu story but put a spin on it that would’ve excited any Women’s Libber seeking the emancipation of women from the tyranny of men and love!!  I’ll not be prejudice here.  Suffice to say, though, that the musicians were brilliant and the dancer created eye and facial expressions that – aside from her graceful hand and body movements – told a story in themselves.  It was quite extraordinary.  And at 100 rupees for a ticket (some 15 ZA Rands / US$2) this was almost an insult to the Arts when in fact Seha was saying that a show of this calibre would easily cost in excess of US$100 in Singapore.  Hmmm…where’s the justice in that?

Driving back to the hotel after our little cultural immersion – the show lasted 2hrs with NO intermission; how’s that for endurance by the Dancer, the musicians, and maybe even the audience – it was another treat to drive back to the hotel through the congested Mumbai streets at 21h30 on a Thursday night with the car window down, soaking up the chaotic street life.  Seeing limbless beggars lying almost mangled on the pavement, kids with babies begging at cars whilst others were selling new paperback novels (all pretty much cheap copies!) for next to nothing, contented couples and families ambling along the sea-front promenade, tuk-tuks weaving through the traffic, hooters honking incessantly, and revered cows roaming the streets soaking up the down-town Mumbai night life.   It was quite fascinating, jarring and confusing all at the same time.  Seha and I couldn’t help but wonder why the new Metro that is bring built in the City has turned into a Sky Train (like in Bangkok); that seems to be a little – just a little?? – bit of scope creep in what looks like a massive mass-transit logistical nightmare in this maize of humanity.  Apparently it was supposed to have been the start of a Metro system, but as the Developers started realising the vast extent of unknown subterranean infrastructure that makes up Mumbai, building a tunnelled Metro system was going to be a massive risk and building challenge.  So the Metro has evolved from sub-surface to supra-surface (is this a word??) but is still known as the Metro – maybe so that the Developer’s change in scope and budget won’t have to be re-approved by the Authorities.  This viewpoint was an “excerpt” from a cynical little discussion I had with someone at Head Office this afternoon who was trying to answer my questions about the rail network! 

My view was that the City may have decided that creating an underground rail network would only create an illegitimate housing nightmare for the destitute in the city which would be impossible to police and control by City Officials.  Who knows … Let’s just hope they get it built.  Democracy in India is a painful, bitter-sweet virtue of these amazing people.  So getting ANYTHING done requires the support and buy-in of EVERYONE.  Building a railway in these jam-packed streets could become a formidable activity that could last a generation whilst trying to muster the support of every street shop owner along the route.  No small feat!!!

I’ve loved Mumbai.  I don’t know that I’d love it in the middle of a sweltering summer; but in early spring it makes for a good visit.  The people (I interacted with) are amazing.  It’s safe.  It’s congested.  It’s dirty.  It’s smoggy.  It’s quite cheap.  It’s full of surprises.  And I’d go back.  I am once again grateful for the opportunity to experience “luxury” Business Travel and amazing Global Business Colleagues who are fabulous people. 

Am I privileged?  Immensely. 

Am I wealthy?  Extravagantly so (materially and spiritually!). 

Am I prejudiced?  I think I am!!

Visit India.  It will shake and reshape a bit of your world.

Just don't take a shower at the airport just before departure and nearly miss your flight!!!

Thank you Andy Mac for holding the flight & practically fetching me!!