Rumblings of a marketing man on tour…

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Touched for the very first time? Indeed...

So, concentration was an issue for a spell yesterday. I clawed it back, all deliverables nailed like a virgin on the big wedding night. Back of the net, score, lap of honour.

(Seriously, Dr. Harrison’s ‘how to write an awards submission’ came in rather handy. We’ll win an APMEA DMA, am sure).

Anyway, I wake up this morning thinking those last three bottles of wine were not strictly necessary, but still.

Then I read last nights blog post at 430am. Urgh……

This is why blackberrys can be dangerous in drunken hands, I mean, ‘a day full of possibilities’. WTF?

I was clearly absolutely blotto.

Anyway, am not too pained today. Think my liver is re-aligning to a life of general, sustained, brutal alcohol fueled abuse. And the sun helps. Nothing looks as bad when it’s 32 degrees, sunny and lush outside. And the weather here (although sometimes a little too humid), is nice. I could very easily get use to this…

Still, let’s see where the day takes me. I predict a nice, fatty, lardy lunch. Something with a lot of cheese…

Iain might have a night off the sauce tonight. No really, I might…

So many to choose from. Weather, curry, people. I can go on and on, but I won’t, I’m shattered. This is a quicky pre-bed, promise to stick up a few things from my time in Penang the camera caught tomorrow after work.

For now, two quick things. Firstly….

Stunning, rickety little houses out at sea...

Clan jetty. Some amazing, tiny little wooden houses on stilts, that run some 100 feet out into the water. Am not so good with water, and they felt a little rickety.

Nearly shat myself when some cocky fucker sped past me on his bike to the end of it and parked up outside his house!

The locals just couldn’t fathom my interest. 

But they were beautiful. Big and cool inside, and they went back quite far. Only a matter of time before some enterprising sort starts renting it out to rich Western holiday makers looking for a ‘unique’ experience…

Oh, and in case you think I am mental, this was the view from the house at the end.

This photo does not do the view justice. So go to Penang and see it for yourself!

The real highlight, well, this is an odd one. I am a total pussy (nothing to do with preference), when it comes to flying.

I’ve gotten much better over the years, but the inbuilt fraidy cat in me still likes to sit on the aisle. Well, this time, I didn’t ask, check in man stuck me at a window, and the plane was pretty full. (Jet star, budget airline, very good. Outfits look a bit star trekky, and all of the steward/esses were do-able).

So, I spot an aisle seat a few mins before we take off, and I am going to make a bolt for it, but thought no. Get over it, sit it out and deal with it.

So we pelt down the runway, and I’m just behind the wing doing the ‘I’m sure the engine isn’t meant to wobble this much’ style of thinking, and I start meditating to chill out.

We go up, I relax and I can’t peel my face from the window. Blue sky, green to blue sea, Penang island in it’s glory. 90% of it covered in lush green, with tiny little built up enclaves.

Stunning tiny islands off it, one size-able which was lush. Nothing on it but trees, a beach and a massive Branson-esque villa. We sail onwards, and for a moment, I almost think the shitty BA ad that had clouds made up of dolphins had a point.

Realising I’ve gone too far in the moment and the ad really is still a big pile of (sorry BBH), I chuckle and look down. And there it was.

A huge rainbow stretching out beneath me, literally as far as I could see.

I’ve never seen one from above before, but I saw it arch across a huge slice of stunning blue ocean. If I were a religious man (instead of hindu-ish), I’d have been thanking god for being alive at that moment. As it was, I thanked him when we landed after some more brutal turbulence…

That’s it for tonight, am pooped, and off to bed before an early start tomorrow. Have some old HTW special guests coming in to work with me.

The old HTW gang on tour in Singapore? How decadent…

Iain is home in Singapore, and will regale more of his personal Penang pleasures tomorrow…

P.S. for anyone that is wondering about my toes, thanks to the mini-first aid kit I packed (and some advice from the good doctor), they are mending nicely!

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…

My order: venti skinny wet latte, extra hot with an extra shot. GOT THAT?

Whenever the family went on holiday as a kid, my Father (tosser), always seemed to bump into someone he knew. As a youngstrel, I was in awe at this.

Could the world really be that small? Did Scottish people only go to one place on holiday?

Did they hold a meeting and arrange their dates so they were all there at the same time?

Was it just a big fat coincidence?

Anyway, today I feel a bit dirty. I did something bad. No, I haven’t seen Dave again (yet), but I did go to Starbucks to work…

Now I have a swish white Samsung netbook (white, N110,  sexy as), I don’t mind getting it out (so to speak) in coffee shops. So, I’m hammering out my presentation for tomorrow (largely inspired by the good Dr. Harrison), and I look up. And there she was.

Mrs. Jones.

No, not she of the song of the same name. Polly Jones, a former colleague from the glory days at Harrison Troughton Wunderman. Her brother works in Singapore (presumably in the Shell building where  my ‘bux was located), and she popped out avec the little ones to visit him.

Although deeply shamed that I didn’t go local for today’s coffee, I am somewhat pleased I bumped into a friendly face.

Good to see you Polly!

Iain is on day three. And was pleased the barista didn’t know what a wet one was (nowt pervy, tis a latte with no foam)…