Rumblings of a marketing man on tour…

So, off the plane, coffee, office, full working day, champers in the Opera House bar at sunset, dinner in the apartment and bed at 10.30pm.

Besides a random half hour of painful clarity at 3.30am, I slept right through to 7.30am when the alarm went off, and was bright and breezy in the office a shade before 8.30am.

I was cooking until 12pm.

Two flat whites (an Aussie strong latte with none of the foam), and I crashed, burned, and floundered for the rest of the day. Jetlag officially sucks, am so bushed tonight I can’t swan off out an enjoy Sydney. Can barely even remember my name (Fame. should never have remade it).

Still, am not so gutted. Did I mention the view I have from the apartment…..

Luna Park and the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge. Corking view from my lounge window...

Iain is looking forward to getting over the lag tomorrow. No later…

Only people not living on a prayer? Bon Jovi's hair department (apologies, tenuous link to denote my being 'half way there' to Sydney...

Travelling is so tiring.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I am just sitting on my arse for hours on end, drinking gin, sleeping and watching movies (Terminator Salvation pap (but ultra fit terminator) and The Hangover funny, but definitely a DVD movie not a see at the cinema), but jeez, talk about drained!

The lounge at Heathrow Terminal four sucked. No ice (for what felt like an eternity), pretty poor food selection, and rancid bubbles. Not a great start. However, the lounge in Bangkok (where I have a two hour stop-over), is corking.

I showered for what felt like an eternity, and am supping a nice pineapple juice to accompany my light snack-ette before boarding for Sydney.

Fingers crossed BA don’t lose my bags. Made the fatal mistake of packing all chargers (Blackberry, personal phone and laptop), into my luggage, and the juice is almost gone from all three.

Seasoned traveller indeed…

Iain’s next stop. Sydney, 7am Monday morning. Just in time for the office at 9am…

Is age really just a number?

Just to be clear…

Jetslag is NOT referring to my antics with the crew (and Dave, who has text by the way), it’s me today. Very little sleep last night, packed calendar today, but like a trooper, I soldiered on. And no Starbucks to assist…

It is gutting though, why 3 days in I have jetlag I have no idea. I digress…

The big conference kicked off today. Went really well, and my two sessions (how to write a best in class marketing brief and how to review creative work), were really warmly received.

Again, I thank Dr. Harrison for his words of inspiration, and years of training. I never realised how fortunate I was to be a part of the team that made magic happen…

I am a total ad geek,  for which I make no apologies. It was great to see people share that passion today, and engage with ads both good and bad. But, you have to take it all with a pinch of salt.

I am telling the group one minute they need at least a week to write a brief, and I find myself in a break-out group an hour later with twenty minutes to crack a tiny little marketing problem. Effectively, generating a little global marketing strategy. No biggy…

Fun and games indeed.

Very flattering that colleagues see me as one of the men for the job, just a little more time would be nice. Especially as I was on the sleepy side. At my age, I need all the beauty sleep (or buckets of olay) I can get to retain that youthful fresh face…

So, one quick question before I sod off out to dinner (One Rochester place tonight in the Hyatt hotel, meant to be one of Singapore’s coolest eateries).

It’s about sex (my question, not dinner).

My question is this. How much older / younger than your own age would you go for a night of passion? Not long term, but just a roll in the hay…

You should find the post comment button above the picture at the top of this post (keep them clean mind, I don’t want arrested by the local authorities!).

Sex and race are a big thinking point for me over here. Alittle audience research might just help shape my thinking before I start jump headlong into the sexual politics minefield…

Anyway, sorry for the braindump. I’m off to eat, drink and sleep my way into oblivion before running tomorrow’s masterclass in somethingng or other…

Iain is jetslagged on day four, but ready for tonight’s banquet…