Travel for business

The Longest Flight Home

2012-01-30T16:27:00.002Z

Sometimes all you want is your own bed in your own house, especially towards the end of a hurried and stressful business trip. I certainly felt like that as I sat in a dull lounge at Los Angeles airport waiting for them to announce the flight back to London and home.

This trip had come fast after a previous one to Sao Paulo and it had not been long ago that I had been insane enough to fly from London to Australia for a day meeting then back. My body did not know where it was and my stomach didn’t know what it wanted. Certainly not the pretzels I was absently chewing, hastened downwards by a vicious Bloody Mary.

Never mind, I thought as the call finally came, the flight would be long and I would soon be getting the sleep I craved for. To my joy they upgraded both me and a conference colleague at the gate into First Class with its flat bed seats and comfy pyjamas. This is going to be just great I thought as I walked into the dimly lit soothing cabin. I was given a glass of champagne and led to my wide and welcoming armchair.

Now I never have trouble sleeping on aircraft, never. As soon as the plane took off and reached altitude I flattened my seat, collected a few stray pillows and dived under the duvet I had found in the overhead locker. My seat was cosily positioned, on its own, at the front of the plane.

Having announced to the nearest cabin crew that I did not want drinks, dinner or any other kind of service until breakfast I donned my eye shades,slid down the seat and fell into an immediate and beautiful dreamless sleep. What seemed like only a few seconds later a great big soft something crashed on top of me. I thought I was being suffocated by a giant marshmallow until I lifted my shades enough to see that the crew had dropped the rest of the duvets on top of me.

After receiving profuse apologies I drifted off once more and this lasted about ten minutes before I woke feeling a tentative hand pressing gently but persistently on my arm. I must have jerked upright suddenly because reeling back in front of me was a scared looking steward. He was talking but I heard nothing as the engines were roaring and I had taken out my hearing aids to sleep. Just a moment I grumbled as I groped around the seat in a semi stupor searching for them. They had disapeared.

Eventually my errant aids were retrieved by using to biros from where they had lost themselves in the mechanical interior of the seat and I put them on. “Yes” I said? “Tell me sir, will you be dining with us this evening” he asked with a beguiling innocent grin. “No I bloody will not” I grunted as I tried to wrestle back my duvet that had dispersed itself while I had searched for my aids.

I was getting even more tired and emotional but thankfully I managed to drift off again. Then the screeching started. Then it stopped. Then it started again. Was I dreaming? No, too loud for that. What the hell was it? I had forgotten to take my damn hearing aids back out and every time I rolled over the compression had made them screech. Only if you wear such aids do you know how unpleasant and wakeful that sound is.

Over the next hour or so I cat napped. I thought I had been clever getting seat 1A but the reverse was true. On this 747 seat 1A is right next to a big cupboard/hanging wardrobe and this one had a sticky door. Every time anyone wanted something from there they had to yank the door which made a sharp snapping sound. Then they would rummage around like noisy mice!

By this time I was past sleeping. Desperately tired yes, able to sleep? Definitely not. I tried everything. Lying this way, lying that way, on my back, the good old foetal position, but no luck. What really annoyed me was by this time everyone else had eaten their meals and gone to sleep. I was probably the only person awake and the crew had done their amazing disapearing act they always do on night flights.

There was the sound of snoring coming from all over the cabin, especially from the small frail old lady in the seat behind. I became fascinated by her as she had a great snoring action. She was as white as a corpse and her head was thrown back. Rather like the sound of a wave rushing into shore her mouth would open and then, when it could go no further the snore would come belowing out like a great breaker. The vibrations caused her false teeth to rattle around in her mouth. Fascinating stuff if you are that desperate!

How I envied them all. I was more exhausted than the lot of them combined but my brain refused point blank to shut down. In the end I gave up trying and decided to pick a boring old film from the I.F.E. system and see if that would help me sleep. It usually works at home, I thought to myself. I selected ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ as that seemed to describe the scene pretty well.

It did not work. I got into it instead. There I was, a grown man blubbing like a child as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan (I think) came together. I must have looked a sad sight as an air hostess, who appeared from nowhere, must have seen me and brought over a cup of tea and a box of Kleenex tissues. Not my biggest alpha male moment and not conducive to sleep either.

By this time the flight was half over and any sleep I had snatched was not the restful type. However all that changed when the guy I was at the conference with woke up to use the wash room. “Can’t sleep”? he asked as he stretched luxuriantly. “No” I grunted. “Try these tablets, they are great” he said passing me a blister pack of pills. “Take a couple if you think you need them” he suggested. Now I do not usually take any kind of pills but I swallowed two of them out of desperation. They were high dosage Temazepam.

I fell into an immediate and spectacularly deep sleep for a very long time. In fact it was longer than the flight. Nobody could wake me. The crew tried, even the captain had a go. The old lady poked me with her knitting needle and someone tried cold water but nothing would revive me. They needed to land the aircraft but they had to do something with me first. In the end they put my seat upright and let me hang in it, bent double by the seat belt.

I was still in my drugged sleep after the plane landed and everyone else had disembarked. Eventually they got enough life out of me to manhandled me off the plane I still had my airline pyjamas on as nobody was prepared to change me! They left me in a plastic seat by the jetty along with my clothes on a hanger where I slept another two hours. At least one other plane load of passengers disembarked at that gate and walked past I heard one say “he must be drunk, disgraceful”!

I finally struggled awake, grabbed my things and ran to a toilet still dressed in my grey 'sleep suit'. Somehow I got myself to my car where I slept for another hour until I was awake enough to drive home. I got home and went to bed.
And then? I couldn’t sleep!

Travelling with the Stars - Naomi Campbell

2012-01-29T11:39:00.003Z

What with all the regular publicity about the lovely Naomi I thought I should award her an exclusive in my humble blog. Like they say in those wonderful cosmetic advertisement ‘She’s worth it’.

I have flown with Naomi three times and got hugged by her once. Not bad averages really, especially as she was in her pyjamas at the time. Let me explain.

The first two times I saw her were on Concorde (naturally). There I was sitting at the back of the cabin with one of the only two remaining empty seats next to me. The flight was clearly being delayed for someone and suddenly she was there. She glided through the door flowing along with tight pants and a sheer silk blouse that left zero to the imagination. You could have heard a pin drop as she sasheyed further towards me and I thought ‘oh my, she is going to sit next to me. At the very last moment she gave me what I then thought was a shy and coquettish smile and……walked straight past. Behind her was an enormous Texan with a gut like a zeppelin who levered himself into the seat next to me, smiling knowingly saying “I guess this ain’t your day son”.

I have to say though Ms Campbell was sensational in that she is one of not too many that looks far better live than she does on the cover of a glossy magazine. She also seemed to have a skill that turns tough international business travellers into fawning lap dogs. “Do let me get your bag off the carousel Ms Campbell”, Let me help you with that Ms Campbell” “Where are you staying in New York Ms. Campbell”. And that was only me. The other passengers were far worse! My last view of her on that occasion was seeing this vast luggage belt with all the male Concorde passengers plus Naomi jammed in one small area as they all vied to carry her Louis Vuitton overnight bag.

My last brush with Naomi was really weird. I was sitting in seat 1A on a flight to Sao Paulo and just before the doors closed I was asked if I would move back a seat to 2A. Reason given was they had a VIP boarding and she always insists on 1A so as not to be bothered by anyone. Being an amiable soul I agreed to move and on wafted the lovely Naomi once more and plonked herself in my ex seat. She then proceeded to talk simultaneously on two phones and a blackberry while we taxied to the runway. She was finally asked to stop by a rather wary air hostess as the engines revved for take-off.

Once in the air she was straight in the toilet and emerged about 20 minutes later dressed in a pair of those grey BA first class pyjamas and a face covered in cream. On any one else it would have appeared awful but on her she looked 1 million dollars. I guess that is why she is still one of the world’s top models. She would make a potato sack look classy.

She obviously planned to go straight to sleep and, as I had a flight load of work to do, I popped round to her side and asked if the light would bother her. She reacted as if I had poked her with a cattle prod by recoiling back, muttering something incoherent and looking the other way. Having faced that apparently hostile response I slunk back to my lonely seat and grappled out my PC and spent the next four hours preparing numerous emails about very little.
Suddenly something changed. I could see a dark grey shadow moving towards my small pool of light preceded by the smell of a heavenly and expensive perfume. It was Naomi. Next thing I had been grabbed and clutched to her bosom. Am I hallucinating I wondered? Should I have stopped at two brandies after dinner? But no, it really was Naomi Campbell suffocating me in a most original but not entirely unpleasant way. She finally released me and said huskily that I had been very nice to her earlier on and “thank you”. Wow I thought, maybe some sections of the media were wrong about her and she was a sweet thing really.

I drifted off to a perfumed sleep and woke on the final approach to Sao Paulo. What woke me were Naomi’s phones, all of them, and she was going ballistic at some poor soul on the other end of one of them. She was demanding to know where he was, who he was with and threatening to get the next plane home. This was before her flight in had even landed and none of the crew seemed inclined or brave enough to tell her to stop.

We got to the gate and set off for the baggage hall. By this time Naomi was screaming at people demanding her bags NOW so she could check in for the return flight. The fuss she created was so great that security was called and I beat a hasty retreat through customs.

The next morning I was having breakfast and listening to the news when her name came up again. The newsreader was saying how Naomi Campbell had collapsed apparently ill at Sao Paulo airport and was rushed to a Brazilian hospital to have an emergency cyst operation. So that is what it was all about I thought. Or was it? Life is never boring when flying with Naomi Campbell.

2012-01-13T15:10:00.002Z

Section 1 - Comment
Section 2 - Humour
(To locate entries scroll down this page or through appropriate month/year shown under 'Blog Archive' on right hand column)

COMMENT

(To locate entries scroll down this page or through appropriate month shown under 'Blog Archive' on right hand column)

JAN Low Cost Airlines - Honeymoon Over?
JAN Travel Supply Chain Intelligence
JAN ASK me a QUESTION
DEC A Christmas Message
DEC Travel Report Anguilla
NOV A London Airport Solution?
OCT So Will Airlines go Direct Connect or Not?
SEP A Distribution Prediction
AUG Do we need another Industry Association?
JUL What the Customer Really Wants? – Part 1
JUL Who is the customer around here anyway?
APR Can TMC Brain Power Still Save Money?
MAR Combined Airline Deals – Good or Bad?
MAR Travel Evolution is not just about Technology – Right?
FEB Travel Services – Buying is just the beginning.
FEB Anybody Understand the Corporate Hotel Market?
FEB Getting back to basics with business travellers
JAN What happens when TMCs become GDS
JAN Better to never have something than see it taken away?
JAN The Evolution of Air Distribution – The Story so Far
JAN What does a hotel brand really mean?
JAN Direct Connect – The first significant skirmish in a long campaign.
DEC Loyalty Cards – What value?
DEC Christmas Distribution Story - 2
DEC A Christmas Distribution Story
DEC You don’t get ‘owt for nowt’ in travel distribution.
NOV BA dispute – Pride and promises
NOV GDS/Airline issue. Coming to a head?
OCT A Take on AA Distribution Issues
SEP Data Provision - Sounds Easy?
SEP Just how much would you Disclose?
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business?-Switch selling...
AUG Travel Compliance – So very easy.
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business? – Deals
AUG Can TMCs really influence business?
JUL Why small is becoming big in Business Travel.
JUN A different approach to TMC negotiations
JUN Global Travel Programmes – Delivering?
MAY Airlines and Travel Management Companies (TMC)
APR Airline marriages? Call for Jerry Springer.
APR Travel and the Environment
MAR Do academics understand the real world
MAR Is Government Buying Wisely?
MAR Who should buy travel? (Part two)
FEB Who should buy travel? (Part one)
SEP The Beat Live. Boy what a Blast
SEP A Distribution Prediction
AUG Do we need another Industry Association?
JUL What the Customer Really Wants? – Part 1
JUL Who is the customer around here anyway?
JUL READERS FORUM
APR Can TMC Brain Power Still Save Money?
MAR Combined Airline Deals – Good or Bad?
MAR Travel Evolution is not just about Technology – Right?
FEB Travel Services – Buying is just the beginning.
FEB Anybody Understand the Corporate Hotel Market?
FEB Getting back to basics with business travellers
JAN What happens when TMCs become GDS
JAN Better to never have something than see it taken away?
JAN The Evolution of Air Distribution – The Story so Far
JAN What does a hotel brand really mean?
JAN Direct Connect – The first significant skirmish in a long campaign.
DEC Loyalty Cards – What value?
DEC Christmas Distribution Story - 2
DEC A Christmas Distribution Story
DEC You don’t get ‘owt for nowt’ in travel distribution.
NOV BA dispute – Pride and promises
NOV GDS/Airline issue. Coming to a head?
OCT A Take on AA Distribution Issues
SEP Data Provision - Sounds Easy?
SEP Just how much would you Disclose?
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business?-Switch selling...
AUG Travel Compliance – So very easy.
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business? – Deals
AUG Can TMCs really influence business?
JUL Why small is becoming big in Business Travel.
JUN A different approach to TMC negotiations
JUN Global Travel Programmes – Delivering?
MAY Airlines and Travel Management Companies (TMC)
APR Airline marriages? Call for Jerry Springer.
APR Travel and the Environment
MAR Do academics understand the real world
MAR Is Government Buying Wisely?
MAR Who should buy travel? (Part two)
FEB Who should buy travel? (Part one)
MAR Travel Evolution is not just about Technology – Right?
MAR My Greatest 'Hits'
FEB Travel Services – Buying is just the beginning.
FEB Anybody Understand the Corporate Hotel Market?
FEB Getting back to basics with business travellers
JAN What happens when TMCs become GDS
JAN Better to never have something than see it taken away?
JAN The Evolution of Air Distribution – The Story so Far
JAN What does a hotel brand really mean?
JAN Direct Connect – The first significant skirmish in a long campaign.
DEC Loyalty Cards – What value?
DEC Christmas Distribution Story - 2
DEC A Christmas Distribution Story
DEC You don’t get ‘owt for nowt’ in travel distribution.
NOV BA dispute – Pride and promises
NOV GDS/Airline issue. Coming to a head?
OCT A Take on AA Distribution Issues
SEP Data Provision - Sounds Easy?
SEP Just how much would you Disclose?
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business?-Switch selling...
AUG Travel Compliance – So very easy.
AUG Can TMCs Really Influence Business? – Deals
AUG Can TMCs really influence business?
JUL Why small is becoming big in Business Travel.
JUN A different approach to TMC negotiations
JUN Global Travel Programmes – Delivering?
MAY Airlines and Travel Management Companies (TMC)
APR Airline marriages? Call for Jerry Springer.
APR Travel and the Environment
MAR Do academics understand the real world
MAR Is Government Buying Wisely?
MAR Who should buy travel? (Part two)
FEB Who should buy travel? (Part one)

HUMOUR

(To locate entries scroll down this page or through appropriate month/year shown under 'Blog Archive' on right hand column)

JAN The Longest Flight Home
SEP Entertaining foreign dignitaries - Part 4
SEP Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries - part 3
SEP Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries – Part 2
AUG An Innocent in Brazil - Part 3
AUG An Innocent in Brazil – Part 2
AUG An Innocent in Brazil – Part 1
JUL Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries - Part 1
JUL Readers Forum
JUL A Blogger in Paradise -Majorca Part 4
JUL A Blogger in Paradise -Majorca Part 3
JUL A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca Part 2
JUL A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca Part -1
JUN Dining Out on Business Travel - Part 6
JUN Dining Out on Business Travel - Part 5
MAY Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 4
MAY Dining out on Business Travel - Part 3
MAY Dining out on Business Travel – Part 2
MAY Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 1
APR A Secure Life Abroad – Part 6
MAR A Secure Life Abroad - Part 5
MAR A Secure Life Abroad - Part 4
MAR A Secure Life Abroad – Part 3
MAR My life in Hotels - Part 4
MAR My Greatest 'Hits'
FEB My life in hotels – Part 3
FEB My Life in Hotels Part 2
FEB My life in Hotels - Part 1
JAN My Life in Bars - Part 1
JAN A Blogger in Paradise - Maldives
JAN Children Behaving Badly - Unmins
JAN Passengers Behaving badly – Concorde
DEC A Secure Life Abroad 2 - Zambia
DEC A Secure Life Abroad 1
DEC Pets Abroad 2 – Carnage in Kitwe
DEC My life in Toilets - Part 2
DEC My Life in Toilets – Part 1
DEC Pets Abroad
DEC Corporate entertaining 3 – Could end in divorce!
DEC Corporate entertaining 2 - A few painful lessons learned
DEC Beware the Bearded Scotsman - SPAA Dinners
DEC Brushes with the rich and famous – Frank Sinatra
DEC Brushes with the rich and famous – Michael O’Leary...
DEC Brushes with the Rich and Famous– Richard Branson.
DEC Brushes with the rich and famous – Naomi Campbel
DEC Brushes with the Rich and Famous – Conference Moderators.
DEC Brushes with the rich and famous – Royalty
DEC Paupers in Paradise
DEC Peril on Planes 2
DEC Stranger than fiction
DEC Peril on Planes 1
DEC The Sleeping Salesman
DEC Our Colin got a Nasty Rash in Brazil.
DEC Pets on Planes. Part 3
DEC Welcome to Lagos
DEC Pets on planes. Part 2
DEC Pets on Planes. Part 1.
DEC A truly sickening idea
DEC Ladies of the Night
DEC A Distressed Salesman in Paris
DEC Getting an Upgrade. A matter of Life and Death?
AUG An Innocent in Brazil – Part 1
JUL Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries - Part 1
JUL A Blogger in Paradise -Majorca- Part 4
JUL A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca- Part 3
JUL A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca -Part 2
JUL A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca -Part 1
JUN Dining Out on Business Travel - Part 6
JUN Dining Out on Business travel - Part 5
MAY Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 4
MAY Dining out on Business Travel - Part 3
MAY Dining out on Business Travel – Part 2
MAY Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 1
APR A Secure Life Abroad – Part 6
MAR A Secure Life Abroad - Part 5
MAR A Secure Life Abroad - Part 4
MAR A Secure Life Abroad – Part 3
MAR My life in Hotels - Part 4
FEB My life in hotels – Part 3
FEB My Life in Hotels Part 2
FEB My life in hotels Part 1
JAN My life in Bars - Part2
JAN My Life in Bars - Part 1
JAN A Blogger in Paradise - Maldives
JAN Children Behaving Badly - Unmins
JAN Passengers Behaving badly – Concorde
DEC A Secure Life Abroad 2 - Zambia
DEC A Secure Life Abroad 1
NOV Pets Abroad 2 – Carnage in Kitwe
NOV My life in Toilets - Part 2
NOV My Life in Toilets – Part 1
OCT Pets Abroad
OCT Corporate entertaining 3 – Could end in divorce!
OCT Corporate entertaining 2 - A few painful lessons learned
SEP Beware the Bearded Scotsman - SPAA Dinners
SEP Brushes with the rich and famous – Frank Sinatra
SEP Brushes with the rich and famous – Michael O’Leary...
AUG Brushes with the Rich and Famous– Richard Branson.
AUG Brushes with the rich and famous – Naomi Campbel
AUG Brushes with the Rich and Famous – Conference Moderators.
JUL Brushes with the rich and famous – Royalty
JUL Paupers in Paradise
JUN Peril on Planes 2
JUN Stranger than fiction
MAY Peril on Planes 1
MAY The Sleeping Salesman
APR Our Colin got a Nasty Rash in Brazil.
APR Pets on Planes. Part 3
APR Welcome to Lagos
APR Pets on planes. Part 2
MAR Pets on Planes. Part 1.
MAR A truly sickening idea
MAR Ladies of the Night
FEB A Distressed Salesman in Paris
FEB Getting an Upgrade. A matter of Life and Death

Low Cost Airlines - Honeymoon Over?

2012-01-13T12:08:00.002Z

The other day I spoke to a friend who had always been a massive supporter of European low cost/no frills airlines. He looked pretty annoyed and moaned about the fact that many of the deals that used to be around no longer exist. He also could not understand why he now has to do a lot of the work for them such as online check-in etc yet pay for almost every extra you can think of. Why, he said should I do all the work yet more often than not have to pay an administration fee.

It seems to me that more people than just my friend are falling out of love with these airlines. One person put it quite emotionally by saying he felt ‘betrayed by these so called ‘people's champions’. Having been in the business for many years I was surprised that folk could believe that these airlines were working in anything else but self interest but I guess if one looks at some of their past marketing and newspaper publicity one might understand.

I have my own views on this sector of the market and, as he asked my opinion I gave it. This is what I said:

OK, this is how I think the low cost airline model works:
They start a route on the stack them high and sell them cheap basis. They cut their costs to the bone and undercut the prices of any competition from the big boys. This works for a year or two until they have got hold of as many passengers they can on that route. Then their problems start.

You see, like all business they need to generate increased year on year profits but where is that increase going to come from? After all, their costs have already been stripped to the basics. They struggle to increase passenger numbers because they have already cornered their share of the market. Also this share is being attacked by the major carriers who have adjusted their prices to compete on the same ‘net plus extras’ model.

So the only way to please their investors is to enter new markets (they are already established in the best ones) and get more money from existing passengers. How do you get more money from them? Well you check your stats, booking patterns, peak flights and increase fares on those services that are popular (good timings etc) up to the highest level they think they can get away with. Then they look elsewhere amongst ancillary costs such as credit card fees, airport service 'frills' and start charging for them. When the authorities catch up with those they feel unacceptable they move these charges to a grey area described as 'admin fees'. On top of this they try to sell their customers non airline services like car hire and hotels and then go to these suppliers and negotiate special commissions for giving them business.

So the issue is that they have to keep growing in order to keep their share price up. Great in the old days but hard now they are established. The only good thing about this is that, as a result prices are finally becoming much more transparent so you can choose what you are going to get i.e. you can pick poor timings on less popular routes and still pay a low fare. As mentioned earlier these companies sell through big time marketing campaigns which mean they will still offer the occasional mega headline grabbing deals here and there.
The thing to remember is these airlines work on the basis that they do not want you to pay less than the maximum you are prepared to spend and they are finding out what that sum is in all sorts of clever ways. One could argue they are more pirates than charities!

Travel Supply Chain Intelligence

2012-01-05T15:38:00.000Z

It has never ceased to surprise me how little time the chain studies its partners, clients and perceived competitors. They are all intertwined in activities right the way from the traveller to the front end supplier yet history demonstrates that they do not understand the people they depend on or those they want to replace.

A good example would be say an airline that wants to replace a TMC or GDS which is quite topical at the moment. Now the black and white capability is there in the shape of enabling technology but the real world is in colour and of different shades and complexity. Technology systems are the beginning of the road not the end of it, an enabler not the solution. But some folks just plough on anyway and seem genuinely shocked at the push back

I am convinced this happens because the players have not set the right priorities into understanding all of the things the other components do. Instead they blindly follow their ‘ideal scenario’ strategy and attempt to bludgeon it into the marketplace. Sometimes this just might work in parts but the risk of fall-out is great with the potential of lasting commercial or competitive damage. They should also realise by now that the other members in the chain are anticipating their moves and building detours and opportunities around them.

These thoughts are not here to try and dissuade the chain from evolving and diversifying, after all that is progress. What I am saying instead is that this industry needs to understand itself and its component parts a lot clearer. For example, has any airline ever taken the time (and at the right level) to examine what it’s ‘partners’ do in detail? To sit down and better evaluate the chain reaction of planned strategy and thereby have answers to the issues that will surely arise? They might even find ways that benefit, or at least soften the blow to the rest of the industry.

The way some current players go about change is simply not savvy. They know what they want and charge at it, usually with disappointing results. A bit more thought, understanding, broader knowledge and early dialogue just might form a better basis for progress. And for heavens sake remember that the world has multi markets, technologies languages and cultures. Head offices in their ‘ivory towers’ in the USA, UK, Germany and The Far East can pontificate and plan as much as they like but to little avail if their decisions simply are unworkable elsewhere. Instead they can do major damage.

So my plea is to stop, think, research a great deal, understand the players/competitors better and look way beyond the first hurdle and towards the end-game. I still maintain that the major industry bodies should be driving this understanding. Perhaps if they had less back slapping, money making, selling type conferences and more distribution, supply chain summits they would make a bigger contribution.

ASK me a QUESTION

2012-01-03T16:07:00.001Z

If any or all of you have any questions that you think I might be able to answer then do not hesitate to ask either via the response facility below or direct to me on mike.platt@mpaassociates.co.uk

If I can I will give an educated and useful response. If not then I will tell you so.
Should you not want to share a discussion then simply email me and mark it as confidential.

No snags, no advertising no nothing. I just love travel and still want to contribute something if I can.

Travel Report Anguilla

2011-12-28T16:03:00.001Z

Anguilla Trip Report

If you are like me you will love this place. What is like me? You might get a lot of answers to that depending on who you ask but I think I like the following:
a) I enjoy my luxuries which include air conditioning, a comfortable bed and food/drink when I want it.
b) I like accommodation which is safe and hassle free which is no longer that easy in the Caribbean.
c) People are important to me. I like them genuine and friendly rather than snooty or brash.
d) I am not overly active but enjoy sea sports and scenic comfortable beaches.
e) I enjoy my food but hate overly formal, pretentious and expensive restaurants.
f) Fun bars where you can relax and dance if you want is a bonus.

It is incredibly rare to get all these things in one place but Anguilla provided them all and more. It really is an exceptional island and I am amazed (but secretly relieved) that more people do not know about it. You ask most people in Britain about Anguilla and they will think you have pronounced Angola in central Africa badly! But there it is: this beautiful friendly island that is merely a 30 minute connection from the main British Caribbean holiday hub of Antigua.

We arrived from Antigua on 28th November 2011. The connection was great as you can avoid the chaos of arrival immigration as long as you remember to book checked bags through to Anguilla at UK check-in. If so you simply transfer across to the departure area on the right as you face immigration.

On arrival at the tiny airport in Anguilla you will obviously need to clear immigration. Remember two things, first, be sure you have got hold of and completed an arrivals card and secondly be carefully to write clearly. Very often LIAT Airways forget to give out these forms in advance so ask for them. Also immigration copy almost every last bit on the form into their computer so, if you have not written clearly, it takes ages. Trust me on this!

Once through immigration and customs you will probably need a taxi and there is a taxi controller right in front of you on the left. Taxis can be quite expensive due to their ‘sectional’ charging tariffs where, if you cross over a number of these geographic sections the price jumps. We decided not to pick up a car at the airport as even though it is a small island signs aren’t great and you could struggle first time in the dark. We hired a car which they delivered to the resort and left it at the airport when we departed. Driving is like the UK (on the left) but so are the steering wheels on the hire car!

We stayed at Meads Bay Villas which is within 20 minute drive (most places are) from the airport and we loved it. There are four villas in a zigzag line back from the beach itself. They are located between two small boutique hotels which, although unobtrusive provides added security to the location. We really did think twice about renting a villa in the Caribbean since hearing about a number of high profile incidents over recent times but I can say we felt completely safe here.

You can never rule out crime whether you are at home or on holiday. Nowhere is safe when you have people of any type around. All you can do is be sensible and part of that is to look closely at where you are planning to go. We found that the people in Anguilla all seem to know each other and understand how much they depend on tourism for their future. They want to keep their island safe so people keep coming and also there are not that many non Anguillans living there. From what I see most incidents on other islands are related to issues and people not currently active in Anguilla.

So what about these villas? Well they are well run and looked after by some exceptionally nice and helpful people. You only have to look up some of the reviews and they always recognise these folks. This matters as you really have to depend on them if something goes wrong. For example I was certain our bedroom aircon was faulty as there was a terrible buzzing coming from the wall.

Chris, the boss spent ages on his hands and knees, followed by heads down holes and walls but still no cure. No problem he assured me and called in an expert from across the islands. Still no solution until suddenly he asked me if there was anything in my suitcase leaning against the wall. We opened it and found my razor had switched itself on. I could have died but there were laughs all round and a total refusal to accept any payment for wasted time. Just a small example but I think an important one.

We settled in and spent 3 nights in villa 3. Two big bedrooms, two en-suite bathrooms, outside shower, fully equipped kitchen (better than home) and a comfortable lounge area with plasma cable TV. If we needed anything we asked and it was quickly delivered even if they had to go out and buy it. By the way they will do your initial food shopping for you so it is waiting when you arrive. As a result we were able to sip our own cold drinks and make an omelette soon after we arrived.

They also tidy your villa every day which includes loading the dishwasher, making the beds and putting out fresh beach and bathroom towels. The pool and pool deck were similarly maintained and they will do your washing and ironing at a fair price per load. Just like a hotel but with the added benefits of villa life. By the way the voltage is 110, the plugs are US two pin, robes are provided, as is a safe.

After 3 nights we moved to villa 2. All the villas are identical but we moved to be that bit closer to the see. On reflection a waste of time and the slightly higher rental as they are all so close that we only reduced less than 30 seconds walking time! They are clever the way they have landscaped and positioned these villas to ensure privacy and soundproofing from each other. The move was seamless as you go to lunch and when you get back everything has transferred to the self same location in the new villa.

We tended to spend most days at our villa and beach except for the occasional outings to other beaches and locations. The beach at Meads Bay is terrific with a large expanse of powder white sand and small breaking waves. The island is blessed with superb beaches and the other favourite one of ours was Rendezvous Bay where the Cuisinart Hotel is located. Meads Bay villas provide plenty of shades and sun loungers on their stretch of the beach.

There is not a huge amount to see on Anguilla apart from great beaches and views. If you want an action packed holiday or if you have active children you might have a problem. For example jet skis are banned which adds to the peace but may annoy a few. Most other water sports are there and they have one pretty good golf course although it is overpriced in my opinion.

Another amazing thing about Anguilla is the dining choice available. The quality is enormously high and you can get almost anything you like. It will not cost a fortune either and I am staggered that a place as remote and small as Anguilla can attract such culinary skills. The local lobster is delicious and we even found one small new restaurant (On Da Rocks) where you could buy them for $5 each!

We could split our favourite restaurants into two types. The ones you went to purely to eat and the others where you spend the whole evening drinking and dancing. Our favourite eatery was ‘Sand Bar’ which is located in the area called Sandy Ground where most of the other restaurants are. We also enjoyed ‘Straw Hat’ which was located right next to Meads Bay Villas, in fact a 4 minute walk on a moonlit beach.

For fun we went most nights to ‘Ripples’ at Sandy Ground. It is a bar restaurant and it does the best steak and mash as well as fish and chips I have tasted anywhere. The bar section gets pretty lively sometimes but all very good fun. The British Navy goes in there when visiting port and the bar is full of great memorabilia. It really is a place you can go in alone and come out with new friends.

If you want lots of good local music and food there is ‘The Pump House’ at night and ‘Johno’s’ for Sunday afternoon Jazz. Both are at Sandy Ground. These are my personal favourites but, as I said earlier, there are many more that are equally popular including the more expensive which we did not go to like ‘Jacala’ and ‘Blanchards’, both at Meads Bay.

Our two weeks rushed by and the day of departure loomed. Again it was totally relaxed and hassle free. Somebody was going to move into our villa after we left but we were invited to take our time as the staff were willing to fit their preparation around us. The car hire man popped around for the first and last time, swiped my card and suggested I took the car to the airport and left it there. Give the keys to anyone working there he said grinning. We ended up hugging and kissing the great Meads Bay villa staff with genuine warmth and headed home.

Our particular connection at Antigua was not too good. In fact it was going to be a 6 hour wait at the airport which frankly I thought was going to be a nightmare. In my view Antigua airport is a disgrace. Considering the high density of flights passing through it at certain times the facilities are at best primitive.

To help those that have to endure an Antigua transfer I have a couple of suggestions. You will need a fully completed landing card even if you are transferring. You should have told the check in staff in Anguilla that you are connecting and although they will not check your bags through they will mark them with a transit label. This helps the other end.

When you arrive in Antigua you will usually be faced with an enormous queue of hot tired people waiting at immigration. Instead of joining them go over to the left (as you face them) of the desks and there should be a much less busy one for transferring passengers. When through there you have arrived at customs. Again, if you look on the right you should see a smaller queue for transfers.

Now at this point we did something a bit different. We could not face 6 hours at the not so tender mercy of Antigua airport so we used a fantastic, reasonably new service called ‘Outbound Lounge’www.outboundlounge.com. This is a special facility located the other side of the airport that has its own excellent facility. It is a large single story building that has a luxury lounge, sleeping room, showers, outside tables with sun loungers and everything else you could possibly wish for.

A fabulous place to pass time but it does cost and you currently have to be a British Airways passenger (any class) to use it. While you are in the lounge they check you in, sort out your baggage and bring immigration and security over to you. They then drive you directly across the runway to the aircraft steps. A grand way to finish a holiday! I cannot recommend them enough.

A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

2011-12-23T14:27:00.000Z

To all my readers: Yes I know you are out there because I read the stats!

No, you are not the best at giving me feedback so please have a go in 2012 as I really miss what you have to say and it keeps me writing.

Christmas Wishes: Oh American Airlines will you please grow up and
stop being so self destructive.

Can members of the travel supply chain think of better
and possibly easier ways of making bigger profits than over the
bleeding bodies of their partners and customers.

Finally? Have a great Christmas and New Year and I look forward
To trying to keep you interested and amused next year.

One last ‘story? I flew to New York last weekend and found myself in Club Class and directly facing one of the most attractive woman I have ever seen. We got talking and I asked her what she was doing.

She explained that she was going to speak at a very large womens society the next day about the sexes and planned to debunk a number of fallacies that people had about certain nationalities. “Give me some examples” I asked and she did.

It is not true that French men make the best lovers. It is the Greeks.
The most well endowed men are not African Americans they are native Indian Americans.
Finally the men most likely to talk women into sleeping with them are not Italian they are the Irish.

“Fascinating” I said. “What is your name” she asked.

“Tonto Papadopolous” I replied. “But my friends call me Paddy”

A London Airport Solution?

2011-11-21T17:03:00.003Z

I wonder if we will ever get one. Recent discussions gyrate rather like a manic tango. You know how it goes, striding forward only to come to a dramatic halt, a frenzied shake of the head, and then lunging back again.

Everyone with a brain in their head knows a solution has to be found. In truth many also realise that it is nearly already too late to stop the UK slipping down the major trading nations success chart. One thing for certain is the UK should be ashamed of its current airport infrastructure and the inefficiency, inconvenience and downright embarrassment of it all.

Can you honestly see it happening anywhere else in world? I can’t. Even in the most heavily populated countries they still prioritise and act on making sure their airport infrastructure is prepared for the future. Some simply take the flack and build more runways at existing airports whilst some construct huge islands with fast city links. What do we do? We find solutions, discuss them, semi-commit and then back off for socio, environmental and/or political reasons.

Of course solving our air infrastructure crisis (yes it is one) will upset someone be they people, birds, voles or snails, that’s obvious. And of course it will take time which we are just about run out of but goodness me it has to happen. We all know that don’t we. Or there is the other option and that is give up our place as a major global, political and trading nation. Do we want to give that up and resign ourselves to being a second world nation?

So what are the options available to us? There won’t be any more new ones cropping up so, if we do anything it will be one of the following:

Island in the estuary. Great idea and it has been done before in places like Hong Kong. Remember them? They had this overcrowded airport in the city (sounds familiar?) so they started from scratch far enough away to get the lowest resistance and then built a superb city link by road and rail. It cost them mega money but hey it provided jobs, appeased the majority and ensures they have few problems in future.

Expand one of the existing London airports. I guess it would work…in the short term. But look at the charade that was the last attempt to put that much needed extra runway at Heathrow. What a waste of time and money that was. A ‘no brainer’ that turned out to be nothing of the sort. We can be so darn democratic in this country that we stifle the life out of ourselves.

The third option is the one I favour. Why? Because I think it is the only one that could possibly drag itself through the mire of politics and protest. This solution is to turn the airports of Heathrow, Stanstead and Gatwick into one mega hub. I have been advocating this for years but let me remind you.

The key fact that will never change under the current structure is that the vast majority of people want to fly out of Heathrow. This is because of its proximity to London, its interlining capability and its catchment area. Gatwick and worse Stanstead will never match it, unless they link up to form one big seamless interlinking airport. This would need superfast links from each location and its terminals to the other parts of the hub.

Is such a solution practical and what good would it do? Yes, I think it could work. I am not an engineer but looking at what has been done with superfast rail links and channel tunnel connections to London I think it can. What it will allow is the efficient usage of existing runway space plus a spreading of the Heathrow load across a bigger base. The customer will be able to transfer airports as though they were moving from one terminal to another. With minimal hassle and maximum speed. In effect each of the three airports become a ‘terminal’ of the new ‘Super Airport’.

I put this forward again as a compromise not a solution. The solution is obvious and would involve building an airport in the Thames Estuary. The compromise solves a short/medium term problem but will ultimately require new runways being built. Although we could do nothing I suppose. Or is that really an option?

Think I am nuts? Well tell me why and I will publish it. Same goes if you agree.

So will Airlines go Direct Connect or not?

2011-10-27T16:18:00.002+01:00

Of course some will, but not completely and many will not at all for competitive, budgetary or capability reasons. Will all TMCs link direct to those that do? Definitely not. The customer ultimately will decide and they will have a choice… at a price.

Let’s get down to basics shall we? Firstly there is nothing wrong with the GDS model we have at present as far as the whole chain (excluding the supplier) is concerned. For the supplier it is a frustrating cost of sale that they have failed to negotiate down sufficiently and one they are not willing to pay for any more. In simplistic terms they cannot see why they should pay to enable customers and intermediaries to have a ‘one stop shop’ and besides it distances them from their customers.

So airlines like American have decided that it is time for a change in model. A bit like Lufthansa did in Europe. Enabling technology capability is perceived to be there now so they have thrown down the challenge to the GDSs of negotiating or risk market attrition. However what they seem to have failed to grasp is that maybe the rest of the supply chain is either not capable or unwilling to embrace the direct connect model. Some have too much to lose and definitely little to gain by doing so.

The current dynamics and rationales are both fascinating and disturbing and worth analysis. The market is enormous and with many players in various shapes and sizes. It is also bound up in a ‘cats cradle’ of payment incentives, global market variations and cultural ways of doing business. There are still places on the globe who are transacting business two steps back from what the so called driver markets discarded years ago.

The above does not appear to concern the main drivers of change like American and Lufthansa but they need to remember that they aspire to be global entities yet seem to be applying their local majority market strategies on ultimately all of us. I am certain that, in the current environment this will not work but equally convinced they will be able to do it where they have critical mass. So this means that the world will have to handle air transactions on a more complex multi-tier basis.

So I for one accept that it is going to happen in parallel with the current booking methodology. This means that one can either book direct or through someone else at an additional cost. Cost, of course is the operative word. To book ‘direct’ you will either have to go straight through the airline or through a TMC who has a non GDS link. This will cost the TMC in money and resource as they will need to radically change their systems and they will not do it for free. The airlines will have to pay them instead of the GDS although not so much. The corporations will also want their cut or at least compensation for extra TMC cost.

I do not believe for one second that any volume spending corporation will decide to bypass the TMC because of this new model. What airlines choose not to understand is that a booking (and the cost of it) is not the be all and end all of travel management. In my days in travel management the actual booking itself was just the tip of the iceberg of travel management activity. Will corporations accept the fooling around of their programme just because an airline wants to save their own distribution costs?

To me it is logical that not all airlines are going to follow this path. It is also logical that some (i.e. American) will do so but with a much smaller impact than they might hope for and then only in certain market areas. I think others will watch them succeed or fail before rejecting it or taking into account the mistakes they make. It will become just another option which will bypass the GDS, give further power/income to the TMC and pass a potentially higher tab to the end user. I have said it before but what it will do is turn the big TMCs into mini GDS who will want incentivising while having greater control over airline share.

Finally one needs to ask what the smaller and less endowed airlines and TMCs are going to do. Those that do not have the capability or infrastructure to operate two different main booking methodologies. Sure as anything, they are not going to sit still.
Neither is the GDS. I suspect both will do all they can to bypass American and anyone else who tries it and invent alternative value adds.

As for the large TMCs I expect them to eke out every competitive and financial advantage out of the chaos that will ensue. They should be able to both have their cake and eat it by managing the different options in different regions and using their superior technology. Mind you they too are under a degree of pressure as they are less able than most to turn around to a mega supplier partner and say they won’t play. That could get very messy so I am not surprised they are ‘working’ with American.

I will watch with interest and a high degree of scepticism over what American might achieve. I wonder whether they will see the savings made from GDS bypass fading away in TMC and corporate incentives and market share loss. Maybe they will remember that they used to get a higher yield using the other model. Who knows, but it will give everyone in the industry a wake-up call at least!

COMMENT

I still don't think we've even scratched the surface of how bad direct connect will be for airlines, tmcs and customers Martin

Memories of a less disapointing Rugby World Cup

2011-10-23T13:30:00.002+01:00

Some of you may remember a little true story I wrote about when I was fortunate enough to go to Australia and watch the 2003 Rugby World Cup Semi Final between England and France. This was the year we ended up beating Australia in the final.

I watched the latest World Cup Final today and, in the closing minutes my phone rang. Good grief it is not my Aussie friend again I thought as I snatched the reciever out of my startled wife's hand. Why did I do that? Here is a reprise of that 'little true story' that happened 8 years ago:

My relationship with my wife has been tested sorely twice in my years of being corporately entertained. It could have so easily gone the wrong way twice but thankfully Judith and I are still together. The occasions were even worse than the time I murmured “Oh yes Valerie” in my sleep. A terrible thing to happen, especially as I do not know anyone called Valerie.

The first occasion was when I was invited by British Airways to fly to Australia to see the rugby world cup semi final match between France and England. A fabulous opportunity which I could not turn down even though we would only be there for less than four days.

Anyway, we went to the fantastic Telstra stadium which makes our Twickenham ground look like a public toilet and sat just above the half way line in some of the best seats in the place. Marvellous, and to complete our joy England won, thanks mainly to the boot of Johnny Wilkinson. After the game we went into one of the ground’s hospitality suites and imbibed in copious quantities of the amber nectar (Australian for beer).

The need to make more room for the next pint(s) became irresistible so I went back into the main stand to find the lavatories. In the nick of time I found one and as I did what comes naturally at such times the loudest, drunkest and rudest Australian jubilantly staggered into the convenience. “Is that all you have got” he crowed as he relieved himself in the middle of the room. We are going to thrash you bstrds in the final next week. I disagreed and we had a little undignified pushing and wrestling.

The argument was settled by me during a pause in grappling. “Look” I said. Why don’t we swap phone numbers and agree that whoever loses next week phones the other to apologies”. He agreed and parted and I frankly thought nothing further about it.

The following week I sat down back home with my wife and watched the final and, thanks to the boot of Johnny Wilkinson, we won. I went ballistic and jumped all over the room screaming “YES, YES” rather like that famous scene in the film ‘When Harry Met Sally’. I did not here the phone ring but Judith did.

The first thing I noticed was the shocked look on her face. She asked me if there was something I needed to tell her about my sexuality. The question rather shook me so I asked why she should enquire. “Well” she said “I have just spoken to a drunken Australian. He was crying. He said he met you in a toilet in Sydney and that you had been rough with each other. He says he feels sad and ill but wants to say sorry. Hard to explain convincingly, I am sure you will agree.

Good Evening Count – Do Come In!

2011-10-10T11:19:00.000+01:00

Without insinuating they are all a load of blood suckers I believe that inviting the press to listen to you is akin to inviting Count Dracula around for a nightcap. You want the experience to be worthwhile and enjoyable but there is a chance you will have a pain in your neck and the need for a transfusion afterwards.

Never could this more true than in the corporate travel business as recent events at an ACTE conference testify. They willingly invited journalists in to their sessions, tried to slap down an ‘off the record’ mandate and then were mortified when the press did their job. You cannot hold a very public and very large conference and then say everything (bar what we tell you) is a secret.

Reading about this furore got me thinking about my career as a senior in a travel management company and the experiences I had with the press. They were many and varied and I think they highlighted some of the things that are right and wrong in this particular industry. As a result, here are a few thoughts to ponder on.

Who in the travel industry needs the press? We all do yet we go about fulfilling this need in strange ways. You can take it as a given that unless you deal with them right you can get into trouble. Deal with them properly and you will get all that you desire. Bullshit, dictate or threaten them and you get what you richly deserve. Ignore them and you can start wondering why nobody knows about you.

On the other side the press needs you or they have nothing to write about. Simplistic I know but this is something often forgotten. So if you want to be a player in this industry you have to help them and not throw obstacles, smokescreens and dictates in their way. You also need to tell them something useful, not just the samey releases and platitudes that make you yawn let alone them!

I have never known an industry so selectively secret than our own. Many corporations won’t tell you what TMC they use let alone anything about their travel profile or philosophy. Suppliers only want to talk in sanitised clichés about new products and services but become very reticent when it comes to evidence and case studies. Hardly surprising as very often such products are in their early stages or even a hurried reaction to a competitor’s announcement. Hence the so called ‘smoke and mirrors’ syndrome we have encountered over recent years, Just ask yourself how many of those super duper announcements five years past have ultimately turned into anything worth having.

My own experiences with the press were many and varied and I must admit some of them gave our PR departments kittens. But I can honestly say they were both useful and rewarding to me and the companies I worked for. Why? Because I told them’ like it is’ but in a way that gave us credibility and, hopefully, respect. There is nobody better to have on you side than a journalist who believes in you and nobody worse than one who feels patronised and used.

What advice would I give? The following might help:

Never give a journalist a story and expect him not to use it. It is not in his nature.
Never give them something unsubstantiated and boring and expect publication.
Treat them as the valuable marketing tool they are not as a company stooge.
Stop being so darn secretive. If you got it then flaunt it.
Never treat them or their readers as idiots (American Airlines take note).
If you invite them around do not let them bite your neck! I suggest you try providing high quality ‘blood bags’ of information that are digestible and tasty!

Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries – Part 4

2011-09-25T14:40:00.000+01:00

OK, where was I? Oh yes, that night in the Scottish pub when I rediscovered that some of the locals still maintain that ‘mutual rivalry’ and ‘friendly respect’ between our two great nations. I also learned that, in times of duress you get loyal support from the most unexpected quarters!

The next morning dawned and we were all up early for a tour around the Trossachs and a visit to a stately home. What is a Trosach one guest asked over his full Scottish breakfast? Is it a rodent like the haggis another asked? Is a stately home a home that is in a state asked a third? All will be revealed I said cryptically as I was still feeling the effect of the previous night’s whiskies and could not face a long discussion on Scottish wildlife and ancestral homes.

I was just leaving the room when Mr High (the nickname of one of my Nigerians) stopped me and asked for a bigger room. ‘Why’ I asked? ‘For my wives who arrive today’ he smirked. ‘WIVES’, I gasped. ‘Yes’ he replied. ‘Mine are coming too’ chipped in Mt Mighty (the other one). ‘How many’ I sighed? ‘Three’ said the first. ‘Four’, replied the other ‘and the baby’. Life should not be so cruel, I thought.

This time we really did have to pile into a single coach but thankfully a truce between the nationalities had broken out since their alliance of the previous night when protecting my racial rights. They even behaved (well slept actually) the whole morning as we drove around the soggy Trossach hills and valleys as the tour guide talked to himself. They were even most patient when I stopped the coach so I could be sick behind a bolder to get rid of the previous night’s excesses.

At lunchtime we arrived at the stately home (Prestonfield House). It was incredibly packed and we could not get into the car park as it turned out they were hosting the ‘World Haggis Hurling Contest’ that very day. This involved contestants standing on top of a whiskey barrel and throwing haggis as far as they possibly could and it was being taken very seriously. My gang decided that they were all going to have a go so they could become champions of their own countries in something.

There is an art to hurling a haggis. It involves being able to turn one’s body around to maximum torque before twisting back and catapulting said bladder of offal in a forward direction. All this while balanced on top of a wobbly barrel end. Not as easy as it seems we witnessed as various muscular Scots tried and mainly failed. Finally the organisers ran out of excuses and they allowed my guests to have a go.

First up was the dapper Ghanaian who was still wearing his pin stripe suit and spats. ‘I got the idea from seeing the British boxer Chris Eubank‘ he confided ‘and thought that was what all fashionable English sportsmen wear’. Anyway, he vaulted onto the barrel and got handed his haggis which he held gingerly in his yellow driving gloves to avoid contamination. He crouched, yelled and hurled. The haggis went straight up in the air before arcing down straight onto his head causing him to fall of the barrel and twist his ankle.

My Liberian was next. He was still wearing his full Royal Stuart tartan and looked very grand indeed. ‘Mt Mike, I think I know how they do this’ he muttered,’ it is all in the spin’. Up he got and he started spinning round to get maximum speed of throw. His kilt flew higher and it was then that everyone saw his ‘crown jewels’. Apparently he had read that Scots in kilts did not wear pants so neither did he. His jewels were both enormous and in flight and everyone was mesmerised by the sight. Eventually he got dizzy and fell off with his haggis landing about two feet away.

My turn now my enormous Mr Mighty said. Now he must have weighed at least 160 kilos and there was no way he was going to get on that barrel without help however the team rallied around and tried to lift him. I ended up with my face between his vast bottom cheeks as the Gambians made a joint assault on his thighs but eventually he was up although wobbling dangerously. Someone give him a haggis quickly before the barrel implodes I shouted.

I will remember what happens next for a very long time. The looks on people’s faces, particularly the judges and serious competitors were an absolute picture. Our man just stood there, didn’t twist, didn’t hurl, he just put his hand behind him and threw. The haggis hurtled off as though it was rocket propelled, flew past everyone’s markers and won the competition. He had won that year’s world haggis hurling competition with his first attempt.

We tried to carry him shoulder high but it could not be achieved. He was given his trophy and then the organisers suggested we might like to leave now. Back in the coach we got and sang all their African national anthems all the way to the hotel. I did not even mind when we found the foyer half full of wives, girlfriends and suspect ladies. After a day like that they could do what they wanted.

I ended up really enjoying these trips and practically all I have written is true. I made great friends and was never bored and it has been a joy sharing my memories of them within this blog.

Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries – Part 3

2011-09-19T13:03:00.001+01:00

I had a lonely breakfast in my room. My charges were to have a day ‘free for shopping’ and I simply could not go down to face them in the foyer. I could see it in my mind though; wrecked breakfast buffet, beleaguered concierges trying to explain the Edinburgh road system and cab drivers rubbing their hands with glee thinking about what ‘rip off’ level they could reach.

I stayed in hiding for half the morning and sneaked down when it was safe. It was not. There in the lobby was my Liberian absentee from the previous day wrestling with a multi fold large scale map of Scotland. It was spread over two tables and a stool and he was asking folk how to get to Edinburgh. “Your there mate” came a less than helpful remark from the waiter who was pointing at Aberdeen.

‘Ah, Mr Mike’ he beamed, ‘I have been waiting for you, shall we go now’? I could barely muffle my groan. Gone was the opportunity of a leisurely visit to the spa and instead the prospect of a shop from hell loomed. ‘First we buy a kilt, yes’? ‘Where is Marks and Spencer’?’ Do you have some Scottish money’? The questions came thick and fast as we left, dodging the eager taxi drivers.

The rest of the morning was a busy blur of shops, shops and more shops. I was loaded up with bags like a mule, following my guest up and down Princes Street until we finally got to a kilt shop. At least I will never moan about shopping with my wife ever again I thought as I brooded outside the changing cubicle. And then he emerged. He looked fantastic in his Royal Stuart tartan and spent a great deal of time preening in front of the mirror. ‘OK, I will take three’ he beamed. ‘Mr Mike, do you have a credit card’? He never took it off for the rest of the trip, sporran and all.

We all teamed up again in the evening and we looked a strange bunch what with our Ghanaian in tweeds and spats, my Liberian dressed like Bonny Prince Charlie and the rest in formal dining robes which were exactly the same as the clothes they arrived in.
Our meal was in a ‘traditional’ Scottish themed banqueting hall across town and we all piled into the eager taxis which had lurked around for this moment all day.

The evening was interesting. In came the haggis on a plate carried by a chef surrounded by pipes and drums, and the address to it began. ‘What is this’ one guest demanded in a loud voice. ‘Why is he stabbing it, is it alive’ shouted another? ‘Why does he not speak English’, demanded a third? Snore, grunt went another as he had dropped off.

Then they found out what was in it.’ I think it is against our religion to eat this’ moaned one. ‘You people are not civilized’ groaned another. So they drank the whiskey it came with instead on empty stomachs. They were all near to drunk when the main course of roast beef arrived. ‘More whiskey’ came the shout. Then the dessert arrived. ‘More whiskey’ they called again. By the end of the meal they, and I, were plastered.

‘Now we go to a traditional pub for a whiskey’ somebody said as we left a very relieved dining hall. ‘Let us walk until we find one’ another agreed as we moved deeper and deeper into the less salubrious part of the city. And then we found one. It was next to some very run down tenement flats and the outside walls and windows were covered in years of grime.

‘Hello friends’ my very bulky Nigerian shouted as he walked into a stunned public bar. I saw one person actually drop their drink. ‘Who would like to drink with us’ the other bulky Nigerian chipped in? There was a stunned silence, and suddenly the whole pub rushed to the bar to have a drink with their new found friends. Strangely they all seemed to be on double scotch although they had beer mugs in their hands.

It turned out to be more fun than I expected. We got some strange looks but the locals soon integrated with my group especially while my guys were paying. There were songs from Scotland, Africa and everywhere in between. The bar soon filled as people heard there were free drinks.

Then something happened. My Gambians were shouting and pushing a group of youth and the dreadful word ‘racist’ was shouted. ‘Oh no’, I thought. Some bigot has made a racist comment to my guests. ‘We must go now’, my whole group demanded. ‘We will not stay to hear these insults’ they said and out they walked. I was on my way after them until the landlord called me back. Apparently nobody had paid for their drinks or those they bought the pub and the bill was astronomical.

We got back to the hotel and congregated in the bar for a whiskey. I told them how sorry I was. ‘It is inexcusable to make racist remarks to foreign visitors’ I murmured. ‘Oh no’ a Gambian assured me, ‘it was you they were being racist about. They said you English should crawl back over the border where you belong’!

‘What an evening’ I thought as I slid into bed trying to ignore my queasy stomach. A liquid feast, a huge raid on my expenses and finally an attack on my nationality which was defended by a group of loyal foreigners. It can only get better I thought. But it didn’t as my final instalment will tell.

The Beat Live? Boy What a Blast

2011-09-12T15:28:00.000+01:00

I have just been reading the agenda and speaker list and boy what a blast I would have if I were there! No folks, this is not an advertorial for this event, more a recognition that at last somebody in the travel world is getting together some smart guys to air critical issues. I hope they do not let us and themselves down by blowing the opportunity to sidetrack posturing and ‘company speak’ to thrash out some alternative arguments.

My time for speaking at such events has diminished either by the lack of an own company to provide travel logistics or concerns about just how forthright I have become since shedding company policy shackles. Either way it reduces wear and tear on my heart and liver but sometimes, rather like my scruffy old jeans, I miss them like this one.

I then started asking myself why I am so het up about not attending yet another industry conference. What would be the one question I would ask if I was there? What would I press speakers about? Why do I think it is so darn important? How much would I lose at the Blackjack table?! Before moving on I thought I would scribble down a few thoughts on the topic I would bring up if I had made it to Las Vegas. You never know, somebody might use part of my thinking within their own contribution.

I would ask airlines to explain the practicalities of how they make their strategic commercial/distribution decisions. Within that who the decision makers are? Who within their organisational management do they interface with (i.e. sales, marketing etc)? Do they factor in the impact and needs of their corporate customers and, if so how and through what channels? Do they consult the corporate customer and who/how?

I would want to know about their policies and priorities. Are their decision makers fully market aware? Do they think they need to be? Does their organisation feel any duty of care to the industry they work in or do they simply focus on their own needs and expect the supply chain to adjust with their changes?

I still find it extraordinary that after all this time even people of my years do not really truly know who makes the key decisions in the air supplier sector. Experience has made me pretty certain it is nobody less than twice removed from customer interface. In fact I am pretty certain that most sales divisions are low enough in the company pecking order not to have much input. If they are being honest they are mainly left to pick up the strategic pieces.

It does not need a brain surgeon to get to the point I am trying to make which is that I believe this market is supplier and not customer driven. This was (perhaps) OK in the past when the industry was heavily regulated but surely not now. Not only do they want to have their cake and eat it but they want somebody to wash up after them…for nothing!

The point of the question is to explore if there is any better way of receiving and giving true consultation between corporations, their TMCs and their supplier partners. I know it is a competitive world out there but surely there is a better modus operandi than the current system of making decisions without true understanding. You only have to look at some of the arguments coming out from AA regarding distribution to see that they either do not understand their customers wishes or choose to ignore them.

Anyway, to those that are going to ‘The Beat Live’ have a blast from me and get some answers!

A Distribution Prediction

2011-09-03T17:29:00.002+01:00

Perhaps if you want to understand some of the practicalities of the airlines planned change over to direct connect you could look at the current hotel booking model and how it does (or does not) work. To me the hotel model is where the airline industry is heading. Let me explain.

Money and strategy matters aside the consolidated ‘one stop shop’ offering provided by the Global Distribution Systems (GDSs) is perfect for customers and intermediaries alike. You do not have to go to numerous different ‘shops’ to buy your airline product. Shops that have different languages, booking methods, rules and reporting. It is all there for you in one common language package with little diversity or complication.

Now hotels are totally different and far more difficult to package. Each location can be independent, owned by a chain, part of a consortium and sometimes a mixture. Each speak a slightly different version of the same language and they very rarely sell their inventory through a GDS because they are too expensive. Instead they do their own thing via many different outlets at many different tariffs. Frankly it is all a bit of a mess if you want a properly managed travel programme, particularly as they use differing technology.

So what is happening with hotels now and how does it compare with the current GDS system? In the main TMCs must have some kind of ‘connection’ (either direct or via third party) with key hotel establishments and chains. Some TMCs have created their own databases to hold inventory and information that then gets linked up to the GDS air booking screen. It ends up all looking like one source but contains numerous connection types that range from online links to manual entry.

The TMC has to create room allocation acquisition and management systems that doubtless include room close-out periods and price variations by customer and intermediary. These need constant adjustment and repopulation to remain current.
Ultimately they end up with their own mini GDS for hotels with numerous information flows coming from a similar number of independent sources.

OK, back to airlines. They are necessarily a selfish bunch. They don’t want to pay for the current excellent consolidated air booking system any more. They just want to sell their seats in a way that gives them more power/control and less cost. They try and dress it up differently by saying it is what the customer wants which of course is laughable if it wasn’t so serious. I wish they would just come out and say the truth which is that they intend to eradicate this cost or pass it elsewhere.

Where might this end up? Some might call it industry evolution but I would call it going backwards. Instead of efficiency and commonality in air travel it will revert back to the hotel model of individual airlines operating at different speeds with different communication methods. They will deal through TMCs who also vary in skill and flexibility. There will be dual pricing and availability depending on which model you book through and which source you use. That is progress?

I am sure the GDS have explored all avenues to find a solution to being considered bad value for money by their airline customers. I have always thought that if they presented and justified their cost more intelligently, reduced prices strategically whilst building in new markets (such as hotels) they might do a lot better for all our sakes Either that or negotiate their wares with corporations/TMCs in a new and different way? After all people will pay if they see a value and surely it is better than the chaotic alternative illustrated by the hotel market?

The smart TMCs have seen this direct connect war coming. In fact you would have had to be blind not to. They have been building what they call ‘super platforms’ and the like in anticipation of it. I predict it is only a matter of time before the mega TMCs connect their ‘pipe’ to the main suppliers in the air and hotel world. In fact it is happening now. What happens then? Are the TMCs going to distribute inventory at no charge? I doubt it. They will most likely become the new GDS of the future but with broader product reach and more control on who the customer uses and at what price.

Perhaps the GDS and airlines need to get there heads together in more harmony or they may end up creating something that compares with Frankenstein’s monster. Built with various industry parts but likely to murder them!

Anonymous Comment:

Brilliant commentary. Mike has REALLY hit upon something important here.

Love the line about airlines wanting more control and less cost, "They try and dress it up differently by saying it is what the customer wants which of course is laughable if it wasn’t so serious. I wish they would just come out and say the truth which is that they intend to eradicate this cost or pass it elsewhere."

Again, brilliant analysis

Anonymous Comment

As ever Mike hits the nail on the head whilst other so called industry experts have a tendancy to hit their thumb with an oversize hammer. What is being described as more than likely to happen within the industry is in fact already work in progress; and perhaps further down the line than many (on all sides of the equation) would care to admit.

Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries – Part 2

2011-09-03T17:19:00.002+01:00

My second group of West Africans consisted of a totally mixed bag of folk coming from everywhere between the Cameroon and Sierra Leone. They ranged from 25 stone robed Nigerians to a little chap from Ghana who wore a pin stripe suit with spats and a red bow tie. He had diamonds embedded in two front teeth. Their personalities also varied hugely from quiet and courteous to downright obnoxious.

Again we made the foolish mistake of thinking they would all mix in well with each other and not mind sharing things like coaches and tours. ‘I am not going to sit with these Gambian riff raff’ a portly Nigerian yelled. ‘You Nigerians are all fat and greedy’ came the Gambian reply. There were then cat calls and sneers and it was hard to believe these were top industry executives.

‘We must do something’ my boss confided, which translated to ‘YOU must do something Platt’. It was clear that failure would not be a viable option and, as they were due to have dinner with our chairman I had to act fast. I had visions of a pitched battle ‘food fight’ with our man ducking to avoid chicken bones and cutlery. I even seriously considered changing the menu to only soft food!

I then remembered a man called Charles. He had spent half his life posted all over West Africa and I was sure he could give me some pointers. During his sojourn abroad he had unsurprisingly turned to drink and adopted strange habits like keeping chickens (live) in his company house and making crowing noises instead of laughing.
Anyway, I tracked him down to a pub in Crawley.

I bought him a pint of IPA bitter with a Glenmorangie chaser and explained my problem. ‘Show me the guest list dear boy’ he demanded. ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo’ he shrieked, ‘this is a recipe for a massacre; you cannot have this guy with them’. ‘And what about those chaps, they despise each other’. I felt sick, ‘Help me I begged.

After a large number of heavy drinks I had my best solution. Amidst robust cock crowing Charles had divided the party up into sub groups with hints on how to handle each one and who not to sit with whom. It was impressive. Henry Kissinger could not have done better I thought as I weaved back to the Copthorne Hotel where my new brood were sleeping, and possibly simmering.

As soon as they came together for breakfast I set out my new seating plan and the relief was palpable as they all seemed to talk quite amiably to each other. I scrapped the large coach they were due to be transferred by and replaced it with four mini vans and a taxi for the two giant Nigerians who seemed not to like anyone, not even each other.

We went back to the airport and checked them in for the flight to Scotland. The VIP bar got raided even though it was only 9.45 a.m. but thankfully this seemed to sedate them rather than excite. The flight was slightly delayed as we had to convert three seats into two for our Nigerian ‘High’ and ‘Mighty’ guests (these became their nicknames) but otherwise the flight was uneventful. Unlike our arrival in Edinburgh.

We lost one. Somewhere between the aircraft steps and the baggage belt we lost a Liberian. My group were unsympathetic. There were shouts of ‘leave him’ and other inflammatory remarks, with each group trying to out do the other. ‘We must find him, he could be ill’ I said and left them to wait in the VIP lounge.

. I found him but how he did it I do not know. Somehow, without going through immigration or security he had got into the International departures area. He was propped up against a bar with two huge bags of duty free including everything from whiskey to giant Toblerone bars. ‘Ah, Mr Mike’ he grinned, ‘can you pay for my drink please’. I plucked him out and got him back to his name calling friends.

We had a full welcome party waiting for us at the Caledonian hotel. They stood in a line in order to greet our guests one by one. This was not a good idea as all our guests wanted to be at the front of the line. As a result they pushed forward in an untidy V formation towards the startled hotel commercial director. The lady mayoress put out her hand to shake with our man from Douala but he placed his bag in it and told her to take it to his room.

At least I had got them there safely with few scares except a misplaced Liberian, a smothered commercial director and an indignant mayoress. Must be plain sailing now I thought, but no. I still shudder to think of it all in one go so I shall tell the rest of my sorry tale next time!

An Innocent in Brazil - Part 3

2011-08-26T13:56:00.001+01:00

My second trip to Brazil was no less eventful than the first:

Brazil hosts a lot of congresses. You name it, however obscure, and you can just about guarantee that a major congress on that very subject has taken place in Rio or Sao Paulo. From Chiropody to Chlamydia and Brain Surgery to Brassicas they have all been discussed by earnest groups of global specialists selflessly giving up their time to spend a week in Brazil.

When working for a Brazilian airline one of my jobs was to escort large groups of such boffins from the UK to Brazil and back to ensure that their travel arrangements went smoothly enough for them to appoint us for the next congress. This task usually was quite uneventful until my number finally came up when escorting a group of ‘agricultural economists’ to their congress in Sao Paulo. I was a bit worried because I did not know what agricultural economists were but I felt reassured when I discovered neither did they.

I met them at Heathrow airport and they were very easy to spot. They looked like a blend between country yokel farmers and the university lecturers they actually were. Most dressed like they had just mucked out their pigs and most wore baggy old tweed jackets and corduroy trousers which displayed interesting stains including bull semen apparently.

One thing blindingly obvious was that they were dressed for a severe British winter and heading for the hottest season in Brazil. I mentioned this to one guy whose heavily meshed string vest was poking out of his plaid shirt and, right in front of the check in desk, he stripped his top half bare, removed his vest, tied it by its arm loops to the handle of his suitcase and off it went down that black abyss known as the baggage chute. At least I was pretty sure no one in their right mind was going to ransack his bag with that grubby mass of string vest tied around the handle.

As there were quite a few of them we were using two desks for check-in. Suddenly a loud commotion came from the other one. I got there to find two legs sticking out of the baggage chute and the sound of a West Country accent saying ‘don’t worry love I’ve got the bugger’. It turned out that a member of my group had packed his passport in his suitcase and only remembered as it tipped out of sight. He pounced like a spring lamb after it and was dragged out from between the rubber curtains brandishing his cardboard suitcase by its home made string handle. It belonged to my granny he told me afterwards. What is your name I asked? Colin he replied.

It was a long flight to Sao Paulo or ‘Sayo Payolo’ as my companions pronounced it. Fortunately most of them attacked the free drinks so fast that they sank into sleepy oblivion whereas I sat up next to Colin who was putting the world to rights on subjects ranging from crop rotation to artificial insemination which explains how I knew what the stain on his trousers was and how he got it. Oh what laughs we had, especially as he would persist in pressing my chair recline button instead of his own all night. If I had only had the slightest inkling of what was to befall me the following night I would have turned down this assignment.

We arrived at the Sao Paulo Hilton reasonably easily apart from a short delay when our friend discovered his vest had been lost in transit and insisted on filling in a lost baggage claim there and then. I am sure that to this day the offending article is causing the main baggage belt at Heathrow to break down regularly as it jambs the works. But now we were here and we were unleashing forty British farmers in full winter gear into the maelstrom that is down town Sayo Payolo. Most of the group had not left their county let alone their country and here they were, at a hotel surrounded by the most extreme flesh pots of South America. Like a fussing sheepdog I herded them into the congress centre and left them in the hands of the organisers.

After such a tiring flight of bouncing back and forward in my seat like a yoyo, courtesy of Colin I fell into my bed and a deep dreamless sleep only to be woken, what seemed to be seconds later, by the telephone. It was one of my charges and he breathlessly informed me that a fellow agriculturist from Bogota had told him about a ‘hot’ nightspot called ‘The Orchid Club’ a few streets down and he, Colin and a bunch of others were setting off from the foyer right now. Wait for me I screeched as I could only imagine what might happen to them alone in such a place, so on went my clothes and off I rushed.

We arrived about ten p.m. on an intensely hot and humid evening. I was sweating in my thin shirt and these guys were still wearing the very same gear as when I first saw them at Heathrow. It must have been the first time that anyone sat in such a club with bull semen on their trousers but you never know in Brazil. The club was full of punters, very muscular fat bouncer types and a plethora of scantily clad multicoloured ladies. After a few caipirinhas one of my flock proposed marriage to a girl who I thought was a boy, but thankfully she looked him up and down and declined. I presumed someone had warned what Norfolk is like in winter.

‘Its show-time’ screamed a loud announcement and my flock grabbed chairs and sat down about five centimetres in front of the small stage. You do not get this in Grantham announced Sid whilst busily cleaning his glasses. Colin looked visibly uncomfortable even though he had grabbed the seat nearest the stage and nervously lit his pipe. A bit strange really what with the exotic location, heady atmosphere charged with anticipation and perfume now smothered out by Colin’s ‘Old Holborn Shag’ pipe tobacco.

First on stage was our man’s ‘fiancée’. ‘Great,’ he said, ‘I will get a chance to look at the merchandise before the wedding night’ and sat back arms folded with a smug death head grin on his face. It soon faded however as his hearts desire tamely twirled and gyrated a few times, grappled herself through her clothes and marched off with a bored expression.

This was an outrage and I was dispatched to the manager to find out what it was all about. The man told me that they were complying with local ‘decency’ law which stated that the ladies could only ‘express themselves fully’ after midnight. I relayed this to my horny new friends. Drinks were ordered and the wait commenced.

Colin was silent. He was drinking too much and puffing his pipe a great deal but he said nothing. Not even about his beloved bulls. As the acts went on he got redder and redder and I had my first nagging fear that something was going to go awfully wrong. It did. Midnight came and bedlam ensued.

It was the ‘fiancée’ that started it. On to the stage she came and her ‘act’ started naked and got ruder by the second. ‘Bloody Nora’ said Sid. ‘Last time I saw a pair of bosoomers like that it was on a Jersey cow’ said another whilst Colin went crimson and his pipe glowed like the flames of hell. Seeing this shy gnome-like apparition sitting in front row the girl decided to play up to him. Down she went into a limbo dance position and started edging forward. The atmosphere was electric and I heard someone dropping their glass. By the time the ‘lady’ was about twelve inches from Colin he exploded into action with great speed and accuracy he pounced on the lady yelling something like “now then my dear” and spitting his pipe which hit and burnt her nose. There was silence for a second followed by a scream and the sound of the doormen clambering over tables to get at us.

It all became a bit of a blur. Five of the boys, including Colin, and Sid were grabbed and I was physically picked up and pinned against the wall with my feet dangling below me. The police were called and the five of us spent a night in a Sao Paulo jail along with drunks, pimps and God knows what. How do I keep this quiet I thought as I was sure my boss would not understand why I had ‘coerced’ my charges into a den of vice? I could see my future life as a travel leper opening out before me.

After the most uncomfortable and dangerous night of my life they let us out and we went back to the Hilton. Lets have a drink said Sid, I am having a bath I said. Colin said nothing except ‘How can I get my pipe back’ as it had finally ricocheted off the startled young lady and bounced off the stage. I ignored him and said that from now on they could look after themselves.

When we flew back Colin looked very uncomfortable and studiously ignored me. I had heard that he had gone in search of his favourite pipe but no more. I heard nothing for two weeks until my boss called me into his office to discuss a letter that he received from the mother of a man called Colin. She complained that he had picked up a very nasty rash on his private parts and Colin said it was my fault. Tell her to ask where he left his pipe I suggested.

We never heard from either of them again.

Do we need another Industry Association?

2011-08-17T11:45:00.000+01:00

Surely we have enough associations? Do we really need another one? I think the answer is probably no…if those we have provide greater focus on the re-engineering and industry strategies that are developing as I write. But they don’t.

Corporate travel industry evolution is predominately run by it’s suppliers who then create a further strategic reaction across the rest of the supply chain. It has always been so and sadly decisions are made not by the sellers who attend industry conference but executive well removed from them.

In fact I would say the travel supplier strategist liaise as little with their own salesmen as they do with their customers. In addition the airlines have another vehicle (IATA) who are even more removed from the corporate buyer and justify their existence by introducing policy changes that pay for themselves and earn airlines more money. The money comes from tinkering with the rules that were created by airlines for the airlines and are mainly unknown to the other end of the supply chain. Amongst them are things that impact corporates cash flow data fares and rules.

So what is my point? What I am saying is that the whole industry needs to have input and understanding travel evolution and I do not think this is getting any kind of priority by the existing associations. I think there is still too much smoke and mirrors and too little hard information.

Do not get me wrong. GBTA, ACTE et al all provide a useful and valuable service but how deep do they delve into the shadowy world of industry development. I think the trouble is that they have to be all things to all men. If you rely on supplier income from advertising and sponsorship for your very existence can you really afford to challenge your benefactors? Can you really have those suppliers represented at the very core of your own executive grouping? Although I admire these associations greatly for the excellent job they do in their field I do not think the answer lies with them.

So what else is there? I never thought (in my old life) I would say this but the nearest thing we have is Kevin Mitchell’s Business Travel Coalition. For some reason, as a TMC, I found them rather galling but now I have looked closer I realise a developed model could possibly do the job. It represents a key group of large corporations with little or no outside influencers. The problem is that it is not big enough and needs to be more global. It also needs (in my opinion) more subtlety when dealing with international suppliers.

I guess the organisation I am hoping for is a group of key global corporate customers who are strong enough to win serious attention and prepared to invest both brains and power into understanding and contributing to the market they spend so much money in. Could it possibly happen? I hope so. Otherwise we can continue to evolve the way we currently do which is that suppliers such as Lufthansa and American come up with their own strategies and savvy corporations invest in finding an antidote.

You may think I have a point or you might not. May I suggest you take a look at the conference agendas of the major association players and see how little time has been given to the key issues relating to distribution, regulation and other industry developments?

An Innocent in Brazil – Part 2

2011-08-16T16:10:00.000+01:00

After an eventful first 24 hours in Rio things began to settle down, probably because I was confined to bed with an acute bout of diarrhoea which is pretty par for the course for foreign visitors. I am not sure if it is the water, food or whatever but if you ever need a complete cleansing of both your bowels and the rest of your digestive system then go to the hotel Gloria and order a burger and a local drink. There were things coming out that I never saw going in and at one stage I thought I spotted my tonsils.

It was awful and everybody on our course had it. Our German tutor suggested that he ought to station himself outside the toilets in order to have a better chance of teaching us. ‘I would put microphones and speakers in the cubicles if I could bear the noise coming back’ he said. We laboured on and I learned very little except where the toilets in head office were and exactly how long it took to run to each one. At one time the gripes were so bad we staggered hunched and sideways like an obscure type of mutant crab.

I woke up after the third night and suddenly it was all gone. I felt great and well rested and even my whimpering Dane neighbour had failed to keep me awake with her nocturnal activities. ‘I am cured’ I exalted and resolved to go out and celebrate that very night. I linked up with some colleagues and marched out of the foyer right into the arms of my taxi driving friend who was dropping people off from the airport. ‘You wanna go see Gloria’ he asked? ‘Sure, why not’ I replied and in we jumped.

There was me, the groaning Dane and two Dutchmen and we were up for a good time. My taxi pal was keen to advise us so he drove on a tour around all the clubs who paid him backhanders to deliver gullible tourists. The first was so vile that we immediately fled back to the taxi. The second was barely better and the third likewise. In the end we got through to him that we were not sadist, masochists or fans of bestiality but a group of young people out for a laugh and a few beers. He seemed deeply disappointed but visibly cheered up when he remembered another club on the edge of the slum quarter. ‘Maybe we find Gloria’ he confided as we sped through the night.

We arrived at the ‘Holiday’ club. It looked in imminent danger of falling down but the deep throb of base and the sound of female laughter drew us in. I am not sure what hit us first, the wall of sound, the smell of bodies or the bright red spotlights shining over the stage. I cannot tell you what was going on under those lights but it made the Paris Hilton sex tapes look like Sesame Street.

We eventually found a booth and ordered drinks. It was strange because every time we ordered beer they came with bottles of ‘champagne’ which we promptly sent back until the manager came over and told us in pigeon English that he insisted we drink champagne. The human gorilla behind him finally persuaded us to agree when he started cracking his knuckles while staring at us.

All of us agreed we were not safe here and decided to leave. Almost like a genie our taxi driver appeared at that very moment. ‘You cannot leave’ he cried, ‘I have brought Gloria and her friends’. Behind him were a bunch of the most beautiful young women I have ever seen before or since. ‘I am Gloria’ the prettiest one said. ‘Do you want pokey pokey with me’ she asked demurely.’ I don’t think so’ I muttered uncertainly while wondering if she was a mind reader, ‘but I would like to dance with you’

We squeezed onto the circular stage which now served as a dance floor and joined the other wildly gyrating couples. The smell of sweat, cigarettes and cheap perfume was heady and the red lights continued to blast down on my already sunburned head, I must have looked like the devil. I sure felt like him as I was flung forward into the arms of Gloria. She was a bit taller than me so I ended up with my head burrowed into her neck while our thighs were jammed together. Is this heaven I thought as we became entwined together? ‘I wonder if my mum will like her’ I mused.

Then the mood suddenly shattered. I am not sure which lump I noticed first. Was it the enormous ’Adam’s apple’ I was kissing or was it a lump further down that should not really have been there. It turned out that Gloria had what I can only crudely describe as a ‘hard on’. I catapulted back and crashed into our Danish lady who had at least found someone of the right gender. This caused a ripple across the whole dance floor with the person at the end falling off the stage.

I dragged Gloria back to our booth where we were greeted by our madly grinning driver. ‘You go pokey now? He enquired gently. NO!’ I yelled over the music. ‘Gloria is not a lady’ I shouted while thinking of all the lingering kisses I had given her. ‘I am Ramon’ Gloria advised me, ‘I am pleased to meet you’ he continued. ‘That is it’ I stormed and fled alone from the club and into the first taxi I could find. Back at the hotel I brushed my teeth until my gums bled and fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning I met my fellow adventurers. One had obviously been punched as it was him that had received the final bar bill which was astronomical. He wanted to discus it item by item but the manager’s assistant had resolved it with one blow of his fist. Our Danish nymphomaniac was apparently still upstairs with the ‘gentleman’ she had been dancing with and was probably the only person who had enjoyed the evening.

Never again I thought. But there is more to come!

An Innocent in Brazil – Part 1

2011-08-08T15:15:00.002+01:00

Well I was pretty innocent when I first went there. I felt pretty mature and worldly in Twickenham UK but nothing really had prepared me for Rio and Sao Paulo. These places made Twickenham seem like a mother’s union headquarters in an old people’s home. A bit like what I thought my perfect woman would be at that time, beautiful, exciting and a little bit dirty.

I was only 20 when I first went. I had just started working for a Brazilian Airline and they were sending me on an induction course mixed with a familiarisation tour. I was packed off with dire warnings ringing in my ear. My boss at the time gave me sage cultural advice which was ‘drink little, trust nobody, particularly your local colleagues’ and finally, ‘don’t dip your wick out there as it may well end up falling off’. Silly man I thought, I can look after myself, and have a good time.

It did not start too well. The flight was full between Lisbon and Rio so my boss insisted I should travel in the ‘jump seat’ situated directly behind the pilot. This cockpit seat may sound exciting as you get the best view of the plane and its flight crew but the thrill fades when you have sat on what is really a thinly covered tiny wooden seat for nearly 12 hours. It also does not help when the senior captain resents your presence so much that he has instructed the whole crew not to speak to you in protest.

My final memory of that flight was when the co pilot panicked. The captain (Bligh I called him) demanded that his number two land the plane in Rio for the first time. It was dark, visibility was bad and Galleo airport is surrounded by mountains but Bligh assured him that even a useless pilot like him should be able to do it. The poor chap froze about three quarters of the way down. I just sat, frozen too as Bligh grabbed the controls. I expect that poor chap needed counselling and a new job afterwards. One day I might chronicle all the things I have seen or heard about in cockpits but you might not want to fly again!

We landed and my lift was not there. In this case the "Mañana" attitude really meant mañana as the guy reportedly turned up the following day and waited five hours whilst cursing me and all late and lazy English people. In the end I just got a taxi which was hard as the only Portuguese phrases I had learned in advance were ‘a cold beer please’ and ‘leave me alone’ which were not much good at that time but essential later.

It seemed the taxi driver understood a few more words of English than I his language.
You want ‘pokey pokey’ he asked giving me an exaggerated man-of-the-world wink.
‘’No I replied’ I want the Hotel Gloria’. ‘Ah, you want Gloria’ he nodded enthusiastically.’ I know this Gloria’ he said smugly, ‘she is my sister’s cousin’. ‘I do not want her bloody cousin you moron’ I raged. ‘I just want my bloody hotel! ‘Why you say you want poke pokey’ he asked clearly hurt?

The hotel Gloria sounds as good as it looks but it felt like Nirvana when I finally arrived. It was then a dark shabby place that was full of airline staff, cruising ‘ladies of the night, boys of the night and the occasional transvestite. It seemed ‘pokey pokey’ was a local pastime and the sound of groaning, yelping and ‘oh yessing’ from next door kept me awake all night.

My alarm went off about 6 a.m. as work seems to start and finish early in Brazil. It felt as though I had had no sleep and I was yawning repeatedly as I stood outside the hotel waiting for our minibus. The squealer from the next door room arrived and it was a very demure middle aged Danish lady. It annoyed me that she looked so relaxed especially as it was partly at my expense. We ended up next to each other again on the bus as we motored around Guanabara Bay to the local airport where the courses were run.I could not help staring at a very large bite on her neck which she had clearly not got from any mosquito.

The room was stuffy and very hot. I had grabbed a window seat before realising my mistake. Out there you avoid windows as that is where the blazing sun shines through. I quickly learned that seats further in the room are stuffy but window seats are both stuffy and excruciatingly hot. My lack of sleep started to show and when combined with the soporific atmosphere and direct heat caused me to fall into a deep sleep.

It was here that I got the nickname ‘sleeping beauty’. Apparently I drew attention to myself when starting to snore. I heard the course leader tried valiantly to wake me by roaring in my face and squeezing my nose to no effect. Then they decided to have a little fun with me. They went to the medical room and got a blanket and pillow and wrapped me up like a baby with my head resting on the desk. They then managed to get my thumb in my mouth. Somebody wrote ‘sleeping beauty’ across my forehead in lipstick and then the cameras came out.

I woke and was deeply embarrassed, but even more so when I saw all the Polaroid shots of me on display in the staff canteen, company notice boards and, most humiliatingly, behind the hotel swimming pool bar. ‘Ah, meester sleepy’ the barman greeted me drolly. There was no escape. ‘Things cannot get worse’ I exclaimed. But they did.

That night I had my first brush with the local drink of choice, Caiprinha. It is lovely stuff made from the local cane based fire-water called Cachaca, ice and lime juice. The Gloria pool bar had justly earned great renown for its heady blending of these ingredients and any Caiprinhas I have tasted since are pale imitations of these ‘stingers’. I sat there in the heat of the night talking to my new found friends and drinking a stream of these drinks. I remember saying that I must have an early night to avoid further public humiliation in the morning.

I have often wondered about the expression ‘legless’ when it comes to drinking too much. Unfortunately I and this expression became well acquainted that night. You see those drinks were so cool, fresh and tasty that you really do feel better the more you have. The danger is that you honestly feel stone cold sober. My mind was clear and I thought I was talking lucidly and sharply. Others argued differently later.

All was well until I tried to stand up. You see my head was sober but my legs were not. I honestly could not stand up. Below the waste I was like jelly. I was ‘legless’ and the staff left me there until I got over it. Again I nodded off but this time on a cane seat flopped across the table. I had to bash on the glass doors until the night porter came and grudgingly let me in on the agreement I would not be sick in his hotel.

So that was my first 24 hours in Rio. Want more? Want to know how I survived further scrapes? Want to know how I met Gloria or Ramon as ‘she’ turned out to be?
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of ‘An Innocent in Brazil’!

What the Customer Really Wants? – Part 1

2011-07-28T16:48:00.004+01:00

OK, I know I am becoming a grumpy old man. As my appointment with the ‘Grim Reaper’ gets closer the more things in corporate travel seem to rankle. For example my pet hate at present is the strap line used by ACTE to promote itself.

It seems the three key things that most attract new and current members are to ‘be smart, be hip and be seen’. Now I can go with the first one but I think there are a few other worthy aspirations slightly ahead of being ‘hip’ and ‘seen’. I mean what is all that about? But I digress!

My diatribe today is all about ‘the customer’ and what they truly want. Now this is not easy as, depending where you dip into the supply chain, you get a different definition of customer. It becomes clear that each definition of the customer is more linked to who we want them to be rather than who they really are.

If you go to an airline like say American they are likely to say the traveller. Go to an international corporation and they would say we, the company are. Go to a TMC and they will say either or both depending on who makes the decision to appoint us and who has the strength to get us sacked. Go to the GDS and they will say ‘we buy/sell segments from and to airlines and TMCs so we don’t need to know. However I think they do as the traveller is far more likely to book outside their service on direct websites.

Now let us assume for one moment that the traveller is the decision maker. In many cases this is fact. They may get influenced either strongly or weakly by their budget holding employers but hey, they can usually find a way around that. So what do they want? Simple you may think but I contend otherwise.

If you read the papers, magazines etc what everyone is interested in price. How do I get this cheap, who can give me the best price package, how can I get lower fares but better perks? The low cost carriers came along and thrived by undercutting the big established boys and the glory of cheapness became a reality. But hold on a minute, those low cost flights were on high density short haul routes and every time a transatlantic model was launched it failed. Does that say something?

It says to me that people are prepared to put up with most kinds of discomfort on little commuter routes but not when they are going any distance. Then the cabin gets cramped, the service poor and the food practically inedible. But despite all this the media and corporate hype is all about how all travel should be cheap and fares stripped down to their component parts.

The result is that although the truth of low fares is that they are in reality getting less available, the call for them is getting greater. It is also now on all routes not the one hour local shuttle service. So how do the mainstream airlines cope with this demand? They simply give the customer what they think they want in a base price but ‘nickel and dime’ the price up on ancillaries. Result? They are probably better off because they have also stripped out a load of service costs.

Unfortunately these extra services that have been removed out are the very things that differentiate them in the market place. They have also had a major impact on how they are perceived by ‘the traveller’. To me British Airways is a fine example of this although there are many more. BA has shed cost like a snake sheds skin. With all these customers supposedly wanting lower prices they either had to re-register as a charity or strip to the bone. They chose the latter and it is bearing dividends for them…in the short term, as the backlash is growing.

My mood was not improved last Sunday when I was reading the Sunday Times Colour Supplement. In it there was an article that was hugely critical of British Airways and its Heathrow hub. It self righteously condemned BA on everything from staff attitude to catering. I did not get a proper traditional English afternoon tea one interviewee bleated; another was depressed about meagre snacks and miserable staff.
Come on guys, you killed the airline BA was in order to create the one you say everyone wants.

BA simply charged too much for the modern world to stomach so what did they do?
They made themselves competitive by taking on the unions to reduce overheads, shed unprofitable routes, cut back on catering, and started charging for previously free services. And what do we do now they have become lean, mean and cheaper? We criticise them and mourn the demise of those dear little things we took for granted.

So is there a moral behind all this? I think there is. And the answer, in part was in the final paragraphs of that idiotic article. The piece listed all the things that passengers are supposed to want from an airline like BA (most were what BA used to do) and then it said on behalf of the traveller ‘We’ll pay – provided it’s good’ Wow!

So the traveller wants service after all? Maybe it is not universally about price? Could people really be prepared to ‘pay – provided it’s good? Your guess is as good as mine but in the meantime I suggest we could all take a good look at what we are turning this industry into and whether we are willing to pay to put part of it back together again – if it is good.

Entertaining Foreign Dignitaries - Part 1

2011-07-27T12:41:00.002+01:00

At one stage a major part of my job was to meet and greet VIPs from abroad and escort them on special tours around the UK. These journeys were usually linked to the launch of a major new air service to their particular country and designed to ‘build relationships’ with those that could smooth our way.

Naturally these guests were very senior, very demanding and sometimes totally out of order in the things they did whilst staying as our guests. The people I was responsible for were mainly from West Africa. They were very wealthy in their own right, used to getting what they wanted and usually Muslim which meant that you had to be very careful about what food or drink they were offered.

These visits were often great fun and I made some strong friendships during that time. Needless to say there were other occasions where I, they or both combined caused such havoc that it could have resulted in some major international incidents. After all, the combination of differing races, religions, cultures and nationalities in a confined area is always going to make for a volatile mix. This blend can result in both offence and hilarity as my recollections will show.

I remember standing nervously at Gatwick’s arrivals area waiting for the first Nigerian group to arrive. They were very easy to recognise in that they were all enormous and wearing large flowing, mainly grey/white robes. I could see by their body language that they were not comfortable or used to travelling in groups or passing through the public areas of airports. The second thing I noticed was they had barely any baggage which I found strange until all was revealed later on.

I walked boldly up to the first guest and introduced myself as his host and escort. I held out my hand to shake his but instead he dropped his big black attaché case in it. Where is my car he demanded as I stood squirming trying to explain to them all that we had laid on a coach for all transfers. They looked aghast. No cars? One said he had not been in a coach in his life and another said he would lose face if he travelled in one.

Having finally got across to them that it was coach or nothing we took them to the parking area where our rather aged non air conditioned 52-seater coach was waiting to take them to their London hotel. It was the hottest day of the year so far but probably not as humid as downtown Lagos.

The real fun started when we tried to board them. You see each one had their own vision of where they featured in the tour’s ‘pecking’ order and, rather like cows at milking time, they would not get on out of sequence. The leader would insist on the front seat with the other less worthy individuals sat in their own chosen order behind. The jostling by these supposedly mature and wise men was something to behold. One particularly fat gentleman wearing what looked like a huge tent sat down in the front seat and refused to move despite shouted protestations of others.

Somehow we finally got them seated and off we went. The whole lot of them fell deeply asleep and we drove up to the hotel to the constant drone of snoring with the odd staccato fart in accompaniment. The air inside the coach was ‘steamy’ to say the least by the time we rolled up at the Cavendish hotel. On arrival I had to wake them up which earned me many reprimands and one slap in the face from a guest who thought for a moment that I was his wife….or one of them.

They were with us for only three days and we gave them all the free time they needed aside from official dinners, a trip to the theatre and a guided tour which was mandatory. I tried to tell them this at the hotel briefing but, by the time I had finished most were already on their way to the shops. It was soon after that I got my first complaint from the hotel management.

The mystery of the non existent baggage on arrival was solved. Why bring stuff from Lagos where there were shortages when you are flying to London and get anything. In the case of my group this included hi-fis, refrigerators, half of Selfridges, a touch of Harrods and the equivalent of a whole Marks and Spencer lingerie department. The hotel foyer was soon completely filled with boxes and even crates on wooden pallets. They had to turn (at a price) a whole conference room into a temporary store.

The trip to the theatre was a disaster. We went to see Phantom of the Opera and had seats at the front of the dress circle. Firstly the seats were too small and secondly they would not keep still or quiet. The first rumblings of snoring started shortly after the first song and it began to put the actors and their audience off. I started creeping around poking the perpetrators or sometimes squeezing their noses to try and stop them. Finally our giant in grey broke wind so powerfully that everybody thought it was a gunshot. Then the smell started.

The next day was set aside for the coach tour of London and I was dreading it. I had only just come off the phone from negotiating compensation with the theatre and now I had to escort these shopping-mad sleepyheads around the sights. I lost four entirely but managed to shuffle the rest on the coach. The running feud as to who sat where continued. The only undisputed seat was in the front row where our grey-clad giant sat as the group’s undisputed ‘top dog’.

We had a really enthusiastic guide who bragged to me that he always managed to keep peoples attention with his knowledge and humour. You have never met my boys I thought o myself. It started badly and ended worse as he spent the whole time talking while they slept noisily. They woke up briefly for lunch and then virtually passed out when back in the coach.

When we arrived back at the hotel and they were still comatose. I found myself hemmed in at the front by the guide and his driver who gave me a right earful. ‘These people are rude’ the guide said. ‘Yeah, no manners’, the driver pitched in. ‘I am warning you now’ the guide snarled. ‘If you ever again have a group of Nigerians like this do not under any circumstances expect me to guide them’!

He had started to shout and our guests were waking up. Having seen we were back they started to disembark in order to do a bit more shopping. When one guy demanded that the coach take him to Austin Reid in Regent Street I thought things might get violent.

As they left our grey giant grabbed each one as he went past and muttered to them for some money. He was the last to leave and by that time he had a fist full of cash. He added another fist full from his own wallet and dumped the lot into the hands of the driver and guide. He gave me a conspiritorial smile as he left which made me wonder if he had been asleep at all.

My two companions gazed at the notes and started counting. There was just short of seven hundred pounds and this was around thirty years ago. It was a fortune and it immediately created a different mindset. The guide said ‘maybe I was too hasty so if you have any such groups in future do not hesitate to ring me. Here is my direct number, I am always available’.

The next day I had to commission a removal van plus our coach to take their baggage to Gatwick Airport. The guests themselves got their way and went by individual taxi. They would not share with each other and the big guy had to be in the first one to leave! Me? I was shattered and fell asleep. I probably snored!

Who is the customer around here anyway?

2011-07-18T12:42:00.000+01:00

OK, OK, I know. I said I was going to quit corporate travel and disappear into the mists of travel legend…or something like that. But it is so very hard! I am rather like Frank Sinatra was, or Michel Jordan is, where something happens which triggers off a new reason why the lure of starting again becomes too much.

The trigger for me was American Airlines president Tom Horton and a guest article he wrote for ‘The Beat’ on ‘Customizing the Travel Experience’. Right, it was the expected sanitized statement that had no doubt done the rounds of the AA public relations department before release but it made one thing screamingly clear to me. That is, who American Airlines think their customers are.

They are clearly playing their ‘customer’ card. In fact in a smallish statement of circa 800 words they had used the term (and derivatives) at least 15 times before I gave up counting. Reading the words of the article it is also clear that by customer they refer to travellers and the choices AA are offering these individuals. In contrast he used the word ‘corporate’ once (that I saw) and that was referring to ‘travel agents’ customers.

Does this matter? Is it a simple slip? Or does it show a complete lack of recognition, empathy, and understanding with the corporate travel world? After all, do corporations really want their travellers to have all these extra choices at an extra price? Do they want the lack of control that this brings to their travel policy? Do they want the extra expense taken out of their control for potentially both bookings and ancillaries?

Does it matter that the president of AA still thinks of such a key intermediary as a ‘travel agent’ when the corporate service provided is now Travel Management hence the correct and more accurate term TMCs. This may sound like splitting hairs but is it. Or is it more that? Is it AA demonstrating a worldwide apathy amongst airlines to accept that the corporate world is changing around them?

So what is this ‘customizing’ all about? To me it is about the airlines tweaking the evolving business market to their own advantage whilst ignoring the needs/demands of a major sector of their market. Is that such a surprising thing? Probably not but I cannot bear all this sugar coating around what is actually some very unpleasant tablets. Here are some examples:

We don’t want to pay the GDS any more even though it is the medium of choice for those ‘travel agents’ corporate customers. We do not seem to be able to renegotiate a deal with these GDS so let’s provide a direct product. OK it is not what corporates want but hey, think of the savings, the control, the MI and the ancillary selling opportunity.

We have been badly stung by the inroads ‘no frills’ airlines have made in our markets. Fares have gone down and their shares have increased, but hang on, there is an opportunity here. These airlines have reached critical mass to the point where they have to add more charges to maintain growth and survive. They are not the threat they were and we can now use their weapons against them. We too can offer basic core prices and then bolt on all those other ancillaries to mask the true cost.
It seems to me that corporations themselves are helping (or at least not hindering) such strategies. Corporations seem to like unbundling as it works in other spheres of procurement. But does it work in travel? Ah, that is far more complex and has greater ramifications in the supply chain. Cost has a habit of moving, not disappearing.

I suggest corporates need to have a much greater influence in the travel industry. Their associations need visibly shift away from their suppliers who they use to subsidise their costs through sponsorship and advertising. These bodies need to push their way to the table which is totally dominated by the major suppliers. They need to be heard and recognised.

Suppliers need to understand that the world has moved on and that the ‘customer’ in the corporate world is the company itself and not its employees. Those intermediaries such as TMCs are not simply booking travel agents but an outsourced arm of their corporate customer. Only then will we have a successful transition to a new model.

A Blogger in Paradise – Majorca Part 4

2011-07-08T10:27:00.001+01:00

The main thing for me about this holiday was that it was in a villa not a hotel. I have done it on short stays twice but never a fortnight and I wondered whether the novelty would wear off… and it did. Yes, the novelty of it went but got replaced with far better feelings of relaxation and peaceful familiarity than I have ever felt in a hotel where I usually start climbing the walls by day ten.

To understand why I am now a villa convert one needs to know why me, and possibly others often feel let down when staying in hotels. To me the best word to explain my disappointment is freedom, or lack of it. In a hotel I feel too regulated. You end up eating what they want, when they want at a frequently unacceptable and unjustifiable price. Once you are there you operate under their rules alongside their guests using their dress code.

You cannot really get up when you want, have a light snack of your own choosing and pick your own environment to spend the day. For example you could go to the pool and not find a quiet, comfortable, shaded spot. The pool menu will serve portions big enough (and costly enough) for three. So you go back to the room and find housekeeping there. Some people even smuggle out food from breakfast purely because it gives them the kind of things they want to eat at lunch.

Later you decide to have a relaxed meal but can your wife really go down without washing, drying and straightening her hair? And what about the other guests who seem to think the whole thing is a fashion contest. Can you really face another full set meal of something you would never bother with at home? Can you do this at breakfast, lunch and dinner for 14 days and nights? We all seem to but I reckon the first hotel to come up with the alternatives people want will make a killing.

Right, that’s now off my chest. After all those years of holidays where I thought that if I ate another lunchtime shared club sandwich I would kill myself or the waiter…or both. I found a well planned villa holiday can save me this grief albeit at a cost. The cost? Well you better be sure it is the right villa for you or you have had it for the duration.

You have to buy your own food but the consolation is that you can eat what you want, when you want it and in the right portions. OK, you have to pay for the staples like pepper, salt, oils etc but it is all far cheaper than hotel dining and you can stock up on drinks, crisps, and nibbles etc at a fraction of the price. When you don’t want to cook? Well you go out!

Villa concerns for me were mostly not problematic. You have to have a car. You need to seriously consider security especially in some places. You need good easy means of contact with the owner or their agent in case of problems and you have to take location and the proximity of neighbours into account. I cannot imagine what it would be like to move into a place with screamers and loud music lovers over the fence. We did our research and we were fine…thankfully!

OK, there can be some niggles. For example there is a growing habit in Majorca of owners putting the air conditioning on a timer so you can only use it at night. They conveniently assume that everyone will either keep the doors and windows open all day or go out. So the sales pitch says air conditioning when it should say ‘part’ air conditioning. I think if you are paying for aircon you should get aircon when YOU want it rather than reduce the owner’s electricity bill. Others may be more eco minded than me. I found a little visit to the fuse box controlled solved my problem!

So, the headquarters of my Majorcan ‘paradise’ was the Villa Son Rotger in the hills 5kms from Pollensa. Our days panned out like this: Get up at around 9.30 a.m. , open the shutters and pad downstairs to pick up cereal, fresh fruit and tea and bring up to the balcony overlooking the sea. Then agonise over whether to have yet another fry up or salad. Then morning swim, sunbathe and read Kindle under the sun umbrella. Lunch is large or little depending on the fry-up decision. Afternoon? Repeat morning or possibly tour the area.

The evenings were great, particularly as they were warm and starry. A barbecue? A swim? An evening in front of the T.V watching UK programmes? Mostly we went out. The only unwelcome nocturnal noise was the neighbour’s dog who partook in bouts of barking. We solved this by bribing him with cat treats we had brought in from the UK in case there were local moggies!

As I said earlier there were not many neighbours. We had orchards and a farmhouse on one side. We always smiled and waived at the owners as they picked fruit from trees next to our driveway. I am not sure what they thought of us after we got caught ‘sampling’ their plums. It was made worse when I strode naked onto our balcony doing a mighty stretch only to lock eyes with grandma sitting on her tractor holding plums in her hands. She just looked, shrugged, muttered and drove away. Ah well.

So the end of the holiday came and unfortunately we had to vacate the villa by 10 a.m. which is pretty normal but a pain when your flight leaves in the evening. I had booked a day room at the Hilton near Palma airport. It is a lovely hotel but we ended up being reminded why we had chosen a villa. I simply could not have imagined staying there a fortnight.

The hotel was great, its staff were mainly great, but its guests were not. The pool was crowded, noisy and full of people tucking in tummies, running fingers through hair and indulging badly behaved kids. They had the usual snack menu that was only available through certain times and starred ‘club sandwich’. Yuk! The room was a snip at £160 (excluding food/drink) for six hours!

Finally we got to the airport. The car return was very efficient and we went to check in only to be asked for the £100 excess baggage for the extra case. I told them I was not charged on the way out so they said I had to pay them now for both! To be fair the check in was manned by Iberia Airlines staff and they called in the Thomson representative who agreed to ‘let us off this time’. A reason she gave was I had been polite when most people yell at her. Worth remembering as airline staff are the last people you should yell at, especially when they have you by the ba**s.

The flight this time was on a modern Thomson aircraft which was clean, comfortable and on time. The crew were courteous and by then I was used to paying for everything on board. The family we saw on the way out were just in front again and clearly. Dad, with the tattoos, looked like he was missing his ‘Forever Karen’ and mum and daughter looked like they wished he had stayed with her. ‘Did you have a nice time’ I asked the girl. Daddy says I can’t talk to you’ she replied morosely.

So there you have it. The villa life was paradise to us. Thomson was far better than expected and Majorca was everything we wanted it to be. And spoilt little me? I learned that first class travel and 5 star hotels is not necessary for holiday ‘paradise’
I hope you have been both informed and entertained by this 4 part report

READERS FORUM

2011-07-07T10:59:00.012+01:00

I would really like to hear more from you!

Reason being that I want to know if what I write is worth reading.
I am not actively seeking compliments (although they would be nice) but also comment/criticism too.

So if you are pleased, annoyed or anything in between please use the comment facility on this or any of the relevant blogs

I would also welcome statements and particularly questions and suggestions on any topic. Is there anything you want me to write about?

Also I have kind of slowed down my industry blogs but I am thinking of starting again out of frustration that nobody seems to be resolving the main issues. What do you think?
Be watching out for you and you are welcome to remain anonymous if you wish
Take Care and thanks for reading.
MIKE

RESPONSE to Who is the customer?
You bring up great perspectives in your comments Mike. Any business worth its salt can tell you who their highest yield customers are and who drives the decision making process for that customer. The TMC and the corporate travel department are key and if you don't count meetings and incentive travel, corporate travel makes up 25 percent of all travel in the US. When booked through the TMC, the average yield is significantly higher than when booked online direct with the airline.
With the order of so many new aircraft announced this week, you would think that American would be planning ahead on how to fill those planes profitably.
~ Chicke Fitzgerald, Founder and CEO, Solutionz

And:

Excellent!
Warm regards,
Kevin Mitchell
Business Travel Coalition, Inc

MIKE
I went through your blog today, read many posts and I found it very interesting and well written.
Keep up the good work
Kind regards
Daniel
Daniel Zetík

Distribution Prediction Comments

Anonymous Comment:

Brilliant commentary. Mike has REALLY hit upon something important here.

Love the line about airlines wanting more control and less cost, "They try and dress it up differently by saying it is what the customer wants which of course is laughable if it wasn’t so serious. I wish they would just come out and say the truth which is that they intend to eradicate this cost or pass it elsewhere."

Again, brilliant analysis

Anonymous Comment

As ever Mike hits the nail on the head whilst other so called industry experts have a tendancy to hit their thumb with an oversize hammer. What is being described as more than likely to happen within the industry is in fact already work in progress; and perhaps further down the line than many (on all sides of the equation) would care to admit.

Love it - a couple of great stories in there - I think the Haggis throwing championship is a great read; I can just picture your giant Nigerian standing on the barrel and throwing the Haggis with one hand. Sounds like a fun day was had by all. Cheers
Posted by Peter

i still don't think we've even scratched the surface of how bad direct connect will be for airlines, tmcs and customers
peter

Great post! Full of insight and very informative! Stumbled on this website while in the airport waiting for my flight. Will definitely check this out regularly. Thanks and more power to your blog! Cheers! Kevin Akins - kevinrakins@nuhrd.com

Re: Anyone Understand The Corporate Hotel Market
Dear Mike, excellent subject, I reckon only majors chains are using TMC or Consortia partners, as they are using RFP process to bid for corporate room nights. For independent hotels, although the cost is minimal, I do not see how they could benefitiate from TMC, since they are not invited in those RFP bidding. Perhaps Travelclick solutions can answer to your points.
From 'The Profit Therapy'

A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca Part 3

2011-07-05T18:09:00.002+01:00

So we finally arrived at the villa which was to be our home for two weeks. “Don’t think I am going to be chained to the cooker all the time” said Judith as I tried to turn our small car into a smaller driveway before the electric gates closed. ‘No darling’ I replied thinking about 14 days of fried food, barbecues and cosy home suppers.

Now we get to the ‘paradise’ bit of title. The villa was beautiful and I would recommend it to anyone. We have used Villa Select before and they have never let us down so far. It had three bedrooms, three bathrooms and a bright and spacious living area.

The design was modern and the facilities were all there from the large infinity pool to the sunny barbecue area to the large balconies with views over the bay of Alcudia. There was a modern halogen hob, new looking cooker and washing machine and an excellent fridge freezer. You will be able to make great meals here I said to Judith as she gave me an icy stare. ‘No, let’s go out instead’ she snapped.

That first night we drove the short distance to Alcudia where we promptly got lost. ‘Left here’ she shouted after we passed the turning for the second time that day. We eventually ended up in the old town where we seemed to be the only tourists and came face to face with an eighteen inch penis. It was attached to an eight foot statue of a naked violinist that was ‘mounted’ in the forecourt of a small bar. Naturally we could not resist dining there.

We sat adjacent to the statue but we could not escape from its member as the setting sun threw its shadow right across our table. Rather unnerving when you are eating a ham baguette I can assure you. I placed the pepper and salt at one end and it looked quite lifelike! After being stared at by the locals, drinking beer and watching the sunset we drove home. Apparently our naked stone friend was called Javier San Pedro but I am not sure if the scale used was lifelike or wistful thinking.

We went out touring in the car a few of the days and found some really nice places that make mockery of the concept that Majorca is all crowded beaches, nightclubs and tourist dominated. There are such places for those that want them but they are mainly in the south, except for perhaps Port de Alcudia.

A great place to go is Port de Solier on the west coast. The drive is quite hair raising over mountains and around many tight bends but it is worth it for the views. We ended up behind a very nervous driver who panicked and nearly stopped at every bend and then shot off afterwards to stop you overtaking. He met his match when he met a bus driving psychopath on a particularly bad loop. They ended up bonnet to bonnet with neither able nor willing to give way. We nipped past whilst they screamed at each other.

We then ended up behind another bus which was aptly named ‘no frills bus tours’. An inspiring name and the people aboard looked wretched. By the look of it no frills meant no air conditioning, no shock absorbers and no windows that opened. It was dull rust red in colour (no paint) and the driver was wearing a vest (no shirt). Even Michael O’Leary would think that this bus had less frills than his Ryanair planes.

We went to a lot of the usual places like Formentor where you can climb down from little car parks to gorgeous little beaches and Cala San Vicente which is a very pretty little resort in a small bay that has some very nice cafes.

When we ate out we either drove in to Pollensa old town or Port de Pollensa depending on what mood we were in. If we wanted pretty and quaint it was the former where you could sit in the main square, eat good food and watch people who were probably watching you. Everybody eyes each other up on holiday; it is part of the ‘fun’. I think they particularly appreciated it when I got drunk with a Brazilian waiter who demonstrated (repeatedly) how to make an authentic caiprinha.

Port de Pollensa is at the seaside and full of cafes lined along the front. This place is great fun on any evening and you would be amazed by some of the sights that walk past. In June the local people are out in force too so it is quite a scramble of tourists and residents of all sizes, ages and dress sense as well as the local dogs which get taken walkies in the evenings. The latter provided great entertainment by escaping, tangling leads, fighting and occasionally defecating while you are trying to eat your paella.

Picking up dog litter seems an alien concept to the Majorcans. Very often they do not notice what their dogs are doing as one lady with a chihuahua demonstrated. It was on one of those extending leads so it got ahead of its owner and squatted down by a palm tree in an orderly manner. Sadly for him and everyone else his owner failed to notice and the next minute Fido was projected through the air when the lead tightened. It continued to ‘go’ as it flew dropping bombs like something out of the dam busters film.

What can you do? You cannot pick it up and you cannot tell ever passerby about it. So we decided to wait and watch while vast numbers of people came from either side all converging on these brown bombs. We felt so helpless but it was compelling viewing.
Eventually there was a bulls-eye by a local on a bike followed by a glancing blow from a lady in heels. We really did feel guilty!

Food at both these locations is of a reasonably high standard taking all into account although it is not particularly cheap. Wine costs far less than the UK and Majorcan grapes are quite acceptable. Food in the supermarkets is pretty extensive and you will find many international brands. The bigger the supermarket the bigger the range and the cheaper the price but that is the same the world over. You can use credit cards at most places but only if you can show ID like a passport or driving license.

More about villa life and the homeward journey in my final blog on this subject out later this week.

A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca Part 2

2011-07-04T14:10:00.003+01:00

Ok, where was I? Oh yes, we were airborne and flying serenely to our holiday isle. We were getting slightly sizzled on champagne and considerably nauseous over the chocolate. My chunky neighbour had an itch and the guy behind seemed to be suffering from cramp judging by the number of times his leg jerked into my seat back.

I tried to focus on the entertainment system but the overhead screens were poor and the programme poorer. I watched in silence as you could only buy (not rent) headsets and nobody said before the flight you could bring your own. Funny that! At least I had the little girl in front to ‘amuse’ me as she lolled over her seat back and pulled faces. Are you a monster she asked? I am not sure I replied. Yes you are she said as the faces continued.

Her dad was a shaven head brute of a man in an athletic vest. He was covered in tattoos. He had ‘True’ and ‘Love’ across his knuckles, wrestling dragons, anchors and mermaids around his neck and back. All along one arm he had ‘Karen Forever’ which was rather strange as we later found out his wife next to him was called Dawn. He leaned over his seat and glared at me as though I was a pervert and said ‘Hanna (again not Karen), don’t talk to that man. Happy days I thought.

The plane touched down without further incident and I had to reflect on how painless it was. I had avoided DVT and sipped champagne which is a good combination. There was no queue to speak of at immigration and our bags popped up last as usual. Some kind soul in the baggage area had snipped my BA Executive Club labels in half but that was the only damage.

So all we had to do now was collect our car and drive to our villa in the northern part of the island near Pollensa and 55 minutes away. We used a company called 'Centauro' and I would recommend them. I found it best not to book the company that Thomson recommends as everybody else does it and the queue at their desk was horrendous.

They are located on the airport perimeter road and you get to them by their transfer bus. It should have been very easy except their printed directions to the bus stop had been written by someone facing customs not coming out of it; hence we wandered off in the opposite direction. Once this got sorted we found the lane we had to stand by but no ‘Centauro’ sign as there wasn’t one. I found waving and leaping in front of their vehicle had the desired effect

We got to their facility and were issued with the necessary contract and guides very quickly. Within less than 10 minutes we were sitting in our ‘violent blue’ Fiesta that groaned under the weight of three large suitcases and us. Why three large cases? Because I am a packaholic. All those years of travel and I still over-pack. Once I wrapped a large beach umbrella in bin liners and took it to Mauritius in case there was not enough shade for our young daughter!

This time I was slightly better and only packed double clothes, half a chemist shop, cling film, Marmite and a pair of swimming trunks for each day. I had however forgotten all my underpants and charging units for Ipod, camera (which went flat) and Kindle. Judith’s eyes rolled as she saw all the silly stuff falling out at the other end.

So we hit the road. Actually it nearly hit us as I judged my first roundabout rather inaccurately. Judith had the map and I had my short driving temper. Turn left she shrieked about twenty yards after the correct turn-off. Relations were strained but eventually we found the right road. By the way they have changed the motorway speed limit to 110 kph. I remind you as the Centauro maps are rather ancient (as are others) and still tell you it is 120 kph. Also be aware that most Majorcan coach drivers are suicidal psychopaths.

The motorways and roads in general are smooth and very well maintained. I am glad that Spain uses our huge EC subsidies to ensure we can glide to our destinations. The signage is also pretty good. Parking can be tricky especially in the busy months and around the old towns but places are very clearly marked. I would recommend driving to even the nervous except for the westerly coast road which is a bit of a switchback and sometimes inhabited by those bus driving psychopaths I mentioned.

The main part of our drive to the villa was uneventful. Having got on the main motorway to the north we simply cruised for 45 minutes until it became a two lane highway. The directions were spot on until this point but then we arrived at the road/track where our villa was located. Things then became confused as we drove in the fading light down a single lane track with dead ends, dodgy signage and blind corners. Having narrowly missed two chickens, a pig and the neighbours Daschund we arrived at the Villa Son Rotger.

How we got on with the villa, the shops, the resorts, cafes and restaurants will be in my next spellbinding blog.

A Blogger in Paradise –Majorca Part 1

2011-07-02T09:15:00.003+01:00

I must admit I have never thought the words paradise and Majorca went together and maybe they don’t entirely. However I was surprised how close they got when I spent two weeks there very recently.

I am a self confessed travel snob who has been spoilt silly by first class travel and holiday destinations like The Maldives, Mustique, Mauritius and suchlike. But this time we wanted somewhere closer to home, cheaper and less hassle and we came up with Majorca which is just two hours flight away and sunny. So off I went online and booked Thompson flights, local car hire and a villa through Villa Select.

I was filled with a sense of foreboding as I found out more about the place. You have to get there by low cost airlines or holiday charters (what no special desks and premium cabins?). Then somebody in the pub told me about Palma Nova and Magaluf with their rowdy pubs, English cafes, nightclubs, big plasma sports screens and everything else I have not enjoyed since I was in my twenties. What have I done I thought as our departure date got nearer.

Finally the day came and off we went to Gatwick. We arrived at North Terminal and walked past our usual un-crowded BA Executive Club check in desk and into the people maelstrom called the Thomson check in area. It looked like pandemonium with milling crowds of young party people, families and old gits like me and there were hundreds of them. Not only that but they were checking in all flights at the same row of desks and my heart sank.

Using my vast travel experience I concluded this simply could not work…but it did. In no time we were herded by a team of Thomson staff into a huge ‘conga’ line of a queue that zigzagged at least eight times backwards and forwards across the whole width of the departure area. This will take years I snarled to Judith as we fitted in behind a group of young school leaver party girls and in front of a couple juggling 3 children, two bottles of water and an array of buggies. It took only 20 minutes. After much shuffling, bumping and tight turning we were at the front where we got politely manhandled by a couple of shouting marshals who pointed to one of the desks

. Check-in was seamless apart from one big but. I wanted extra baggage above our one case each allowance so I prepaid for an extra bag online by adding an extra £30 to our bill. I soon found out that yes, you can have an extra case but no, you could not have any extra weight. What is all that about? What is the point in paying for two bags if you can only carry stuff for one in them? Weird! Anyway they tried to charge me £100 in excess baggage and it took all my selling skills to talk them out of it.

We walked past our usual empty priority security channel and joined the rear of the busy general entrance and, to my surprise we were through in no time. OK I had to dress again having taken off my shoes, belt, jacket, watch etc but that would have happened anyway these days. It was unfortunate my trousers dropped to my knees as I walked through the metal detector but at least they could see I had no obvious secret weapon. I hope I have decent underwear I thought as I bent down to pick them up.

The thought of hanging around the main departures area was too much for my spoilt sensibilities so I had prepaid for the use of the No.1. Lounge when I was booking our Gatwick North Terminal valet parking. It cost £40 for the two of us and it was bright, airy and not overcrowded. For the £20 a head we could have lunch, watch a film, and drink what we wanted for up to 3 hours. When you think that on the aircraft the meal alone costs £12 each it is a cost effective way of lunching and drinking beforehand in comfort whilst getting away from the crowds.

Flight time loomed so off we went to the gate. The only trouble was that the advertised gate was incorrect. In fact I do not think it existed. This resulted in much milling around where the passengers reckoned it should be. Eventually a member of Thomson staff beckoned from a nearby desk (which said ‘closed’ above it) and off we strode.

Why we all do it I do not know but as soon as a flight is called for boarding it is something like the ‘charge of the light brigade’. The plane won’t go without us but we all make that undignified dash. Some people start queuing at the gate an hour beforehand. I can only think it is because everyone wants to be sure there is still room to stow their bags before others from surrounding seats chuck their stuff in first.

Finally we were on board this rather old looking Airbus with rather old looking and very small tight-packed seats. I had paid (£25) for extra leg room and got it in the emergency exit row. Unfortunately a rather enormous person had the same idea and squeezed in next to us. What would have happened in an emergency is anyone’s guess but folk would have had to scale the man mountain first to get out.

To my surprise the flight was really good. I had to get used to paying for everything but I could not fault it. If I had been anywhere in the rest of the plane I might have got claustrophobia but my little row was great even with the big guy alongside. Again I had pre-ordered champagne and chocolates (for £25) and a full size bottle arrived with no fuss. This is not at all bad I thought and certainly rivalled many a short-haul schedule flight I have been on in the past.

So we sat back, relaxed and waited for our arrival in Palma, What would the airport, car and villa be like? Would the island be one big hen party/stag tour? Would I live on a diet of egg and chips washed down with “tea like mum makes it”. If you can bear the tension stay tuned for the next thrilling episode on a screen near you soon!

Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 6

2011-06-05T21:11:00.000+01:00

Politics and dinner can be an indigestible combination, especially in some African countries. Even more so if there is a virtual state of emergency in place. It was like this during my last year in Zambia caused by poverty, disappointment and insurgency in that order. Rightly or wrongly many of the people felt let down by what they received after’ Independence’ and there were rumours of insurrection in some quarters.

Me and my colleagues, whilst cautious, were not overly concerned as if one kept ones head down and were careful we felt there was little to fear. A friend (an expat doctor) forgot this rule and parked directly outside a public building. He was seen as a possible terrorist and spent a month in jail trying to explain that he was only calling in to pick up a permit.

I would never make such a mistake I thought and went about my business without drawing unwanted attention to myself. Then the dinner invitation came. It was from the top man in a major global conglomerate and it was an unexpected honour. We had never been invited to his house before as this was reserved mainly for close friends and business leaders not a lowly airline sales manager like me.

The day before the meal he actually rang me personally to check we were still going and to tell me that there would be just us, him, his wife and another husband and wife guest. He then rather embarrassingly told me the other guest was black and a senior Zambian government minister and would I still come as others had declined. That is why you asked me I mused as I put the phone down, nobody else would go because his main guest was black! I was appalled and even more determined to go.

We arrived and were warmly greeted by our host. His other two guests had already arrived as I saw his government car with two giant bodyguards leaning on the bonnet parked at the end of the driveway in case of emergency. We started to get a little edgy but it turned out to be one of the best informal dinners I have ever enjoyed then or since. The government minister was amusingly clever, his wife was even smarter and our hostess spent the whole evening teasing her doting husband.

Afterwards we sat outside listening to the night sounds and watching the constellations. We relaxed drinking the best of his brandy while shooting stars darted across the heavens and the moon rose full. We talked about how the world in general and Zambia in particular could be made a better place and collectively agreed it had been an evening we would all remember. After what, on reflection, must have looked to an observer as a group hug we parted our own ways into the early dawn.

Nothing happened for a few weeks until I heard that my host had been taken to the police station for questioning. What about I thought? I found out when I had a visit later that evening. The secret police (SITET) had come to pay me a visit. They did not want to have dinner but they sure wanted to talk about one. Both officers were white and both had spent most of their careers in the British Special Branch. I was told later that nobody would trust a local to do such a ‘sensitive’ job so they brought in foreigners instead.

The conversation started by them telling me I was a ‘bloody idiot’. ‘Why’ I asked?
One looked at the other in a resigned way muttering ‘he still doesn’t get it’. They then explained I was a bloody idiot for sitting up half the night eating, drinking and cuddling senior politicians in a volatile country where the president is almost paranoid about the possibility of a coup. I was stunned as I realised why everybody else had declined the date. It was not skin colour, it was the risk of being seen in such potentially dangerous company.

‘I hardly knew the man’ I pleaded until they showed me a clear photograph of him and me embracing at the evening’s end. Where had the photographer hidden I thought as I realised we had been under surveillance all the time. ‘A lot of people wouldn’t believe that’, one replied in the full knowledge he was scaring me big time.

I told them everything, even some of the jokes which they seemed to like. It was clear that there had been no subversive discussion however they said that just by saying that Zambia could be a better place could be seen as such. After playing around with me a bit they finally relented. ‘Look’, they concluded ‘it is clear that the dinner was innocent but for heavens sake watch out who you eat with in future’. They left as quietly as they arrived and I never saw them again. ‘No harm done’ I thought.

Three weeks later I read in the Zambian Nation newspaper that my fellow dinner guest was under house arrest. I never heard about him again. It can sometimes be a terrible cruel world I thought. But who knows what the truth is and what is not? Rather like eating food slightly over its ‘sell by’ date. It tastes OK but will you have cause to regret it afterwards?

Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 5

2011-06-01T12:30:00.000+01:00

Over the years I have come to a conclusion that there is a definite link between food and sex. OK, the alcohol served along with the food makes a major contribution but the ambiance brought about by close proximity, relaxation, liberated discussion and sharing taste sensations with each other aids in the dropping of inhibitions.

Maybe sharing a hot curry and lots of lager is an exception but the act of say feeding each other oysters and champagne is clearly a good illustration of this phenomena. All those who have seen that old ‘bawdy romp’ of a film Tom Jones can bear witness to the old oysters and booze syndrome. However, don’t try the same effect with Guinness as it plays havoc on the stomach at the most inopportune moments which is a real passion killer.

So what has this to do with business travel dinners? A great deal in my experience. Despite being relatively naïve with regard to what goes on around me at dinners and banquets I have seen and experienced much that could turn me into a successful blackmailer if I had carried a camera and tape recorder with me. Maybe I could hire a small person with a camcorder to sit under the tables of the high and mighty and record the goings on under tablecloth.

Under table groping is rife at many major business dinners which may explain why most banquet table fronts have a cloth that extends to the floor. The omission of such ‘modesty cloth’ can provide much hilarity as I discovered one night in an Italian restaurant in Edinburgh. We had taken over the whole place and the tables were laid out in a large square. Our then very high profile leader was sat in the place of honour and beside him, by chance I am sure, was our most eligible and eager lady sales representative.

It all kicked off by the middle of the antipasto. Unfortunately they were not aware that everybody the other end of the square could see every move. It started with warm patting of knees that progressed to thighs and I leave the rest to your imagination. By then my end of the table was spellbound. What was fascinating was that their faces and upper bodies showed no sign of the wild activity below, except that they were eating one handed.

The show ended when they noticed me grabbing a passing colleague and saying ‘hey look at that’ whilst pointing an indiscrete finger. Well I was young at the time and had yet to learn about discretion. After an icy stare in my direction that would have frozen hell all ‘down below’ activity ceased. The big chief left for his room soon after and, strangely, the whole experience must have brought on a headache in our young lady as she left soon after. In the same direction!

I have been on the receiving end of such overtures twice both directly and indirectly and neither was enjoyable in the least. Once in a banqueting suite in a Dubai hotel when a dinner guest’s wife started grappling me under the cloth. I think she was doing it more for fun (like a cat playing with a mouse) than intent but when you are sitting next to a husband that has no idea what is going on and is in the middle of discussing his business travel needs it isn’t easy. Also you could end up in jail for less in Dubai.
Fortunately she stopped before being discovered although she did give me a broad laughing wink as she departed hand-in-hand with her clearly doting husband.

My indirect experience was even more unpleasant in that it involved my then partner not me. My boss decided to take all his sales team to dinner as thanks for a great result that year. It was Christmas and everyone was looking forward to a big celebration made more enjoyable as spouses and partners were invited too. It was a Chinese feast where everybody could share dishes although I did not realise that my boss considered my partner to be ‘dishy’. He cut a strange figure. He arrived dressed in a Caftan (it was not fancy dress) and with a newly trimmed goatee beard. All this topped with a paper hat three sizes too small and a leer that would make a maiden scream.

He plonked himself down between the two of us and entered what he thought was a subtle and suave conversation about ‘sharing’ experience other than food. Alarm bells rang in my head but, he was my boss, I liked my job and hey, he was only joking, wasn’t he? The answer to that question was almost immediate when he shrieked and leaped backwards, made his excuses and left.

‘What the hell happened’ I asked of my partner. He squeezed and pinched me under the table she demurred. ‘Oh no’ I replied ‘but why did he yell’? ‘’ I pinched him back’ she explained, ‘very, very, hard and he will have great difficult explaining that bruise to his wife’. Not a woman to be crossed I mused as my eyes started to water at the thought. Not a man to continue going out with she must have been thinking as she dumped me soon after.

More to follow on this subject in part 6 so stay tuned!

Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 4

2011-05-26T12:21:00.001+01:00

We were posted to Northern Zambia when I was about 30 years old. I felt I was pretty mature in those days but after reminding myself of a few business dinners I went to I have changed my mind. I must have been damn naïve as this little tale of drugs, politics and lust will tell.

It was a strange kind of job. I was District Sales Manager for a UK airline and my job was to persuade the mainly expatriate international population to fly to and from Europe on my airline rather than Zambia Airways. Not a difficult task in those days so I spent most of my time sponsoring events and entertaining. This made me very popular and there was not a local club or establishment where I was not an honorary member. The dinner invitations flooded in.

The first client dinner of note was at a nearby ‘ranch’. ‘You are not going there are you’ a staff member said,’ it has one hell of a reputation?’ I smugly told her I was more than capable of looking after myself. She rolled her eyes in a way that said ‘they won’t be told’ and returned to her counter. The host was supposedly a bit of an eccentric who people said had spent too long living in the bush but that just added spice to my interest.

We had not been there long and knew we were meeting a lot of new faces so Judith got dressed to kill and I dragged out my very best suit (UK winter thickness) and off we went. We followed the directions we had been given and ended up in the middle of nowhere driving down a pot holed track that threw Judith around the car like a ping pong ball ruining her hairstyle and creasing her cocktail dress in the process.

The ‘ranch’ was in a clearing. From a distance it looked like a shack. Close up it looked like a big shack. Outside was our host waiting to greet us. I started getting concerned when I saw he was wearing beads, a string vest and some very ancient dirty shorts. Should I have worn my pin stripe I thought? Should I kill Michael now or later’ thought Judith as she climbed out in her heels?

After we all had a jolly good laugh at our expense we were led behind the large house/shack to a wild area laughingly called their garden where we were introduced as ‘The British Ambassador and his lady’ to the giggling guests who were all wearing what seemed to be gardening clothes. Where is you feathered hat one wag called out. Must read dress codes on invitations I thought to myself as I am sure this one must have said ‘dress like a tramp and then roll in mud’.

The party was a wild one. A huge fire was lit in the middle of the garden and the drink flowed freely. We borrowed clothes from our host, started to relax and I felt great. We sat around the embers of the fire and watched the ‘ethnic’ food being fried and flame grilled on big racks and in huge frying pans. The food and air was filled with exotic herbs that were thrown on the fire and I did not even mind when I found some animal’s ear on my plate. Judith was munching through the kind of gristle that would normally make her sick.

Towards the end of the meal we all took a break to enable the last special dish to be prepared. Well actually I thought the host said ‘caught’ and prepared but assumed I heard wrong. A vast bucket full of beer floating in ice arrived and I was in seventh heaven as I languished on my back at peace with the world. I had even found my tie and tied it like a bandana around my forehead as a statement on how ‘cool’ I felt.

Then the ‘Zambian Peanuts’ arrived to be fried. Apparently they were only available for a few weeks every year and were seen as a great delicacy. They looked just like dry roasted peanuts as the frying pans were filled and more scented herbs were added to the blaze. They sizzled and jumped in the pan and the most delightful aroma of groundnuts permeated the already sweet smell of wood smoke.

They were incredibly tasty with a hard nutty tasting exterior with a surprising soft and liquid centre. Even when I spotted a few insect wings in mine it did not bother me. Down it all went with the beer and I felt that all my birthdays had come at once. We left at dawn and I do not know to this day how we got home. I was missing a shoe and Judith’s handbag was minus all her expensive UK make-up but hey we had a fantastic time.

The next morning (actually afternoon) when I staggered into the office I noticed my ticket agent was sniggering to herself. ‘Did you have a good time?’ she asked. “Brilliant” I replied. “You like drugs do you” she asked sweetly? I looked blankly at her until she explained why I had been feeling so very wonderful. The ‘herbs’ was Dagga which is a local name for marijuana and they had been chucking bales of it on the fire all night. It grows like weeds all over Zambia. I had been stoned out of my mind without knowing it for the first and last time in my life.

She went on to explain the ‘peanuts’. They were a special kind of giant flying ant that only sprouts wing for a few days each year. The host had two bright lights which these things flew into and stunned themselves on. They were quickly picked up, had there wings torn off, the body dusted in ground nut powder then chucked probably still alive in the frying pan. The soft centres were parts of the inside that had not been full cooked.

My stomach turned. I will never be so naïve again I thought, until the next time. My next blogs will be about those two ‘next times’ when politics and someone’s lust have a bearing on my stupidity!

Dining out on Business Travel – Part 3

2011-05-22T11:22:00.001+01:00

I am not sure what it is about me and prawns. Apart from eating them what have I done to the little pink crustaceans that have merited me being chastised badly at least twice at business lunches and dinners?

Like the time I invited a somewhat eccentric but sensitive older lady to yet another gourmet restaurant in Hong Kong. It was in a major international hotel so I assumed we would be safe from any culinary shocks as this lady was too important and far too straight laced to endure any food carnage.

I will always remember her as she looked and dressed just like Greta Gabo in her latter years as she swept into the cocktail bar like royalty with a friends Pekinese dog in her arms. I rarely pray these days but I asked God to please make sure they did not take the dog away and cook it. I could just imagine it delivered to the table on a large decorated platter boned and skinned.

I could have cooked it myself. The damn thing kept on baring its teeth at me and sniffing my ankles. ‘Bite and you are history’ I thought to myself. Thankfully it did not as my guest then went on at great length explaining how she passionately loathed any cruelty to all creatures however big or small. She explained how she once stood on a spider and cried as she gave it a decent burial afterwards. ‘Barking mad’ I thought as I smiled sweetly. Apparently the dog was there because her friend never took it out of her apartment and she was liberating it for the evening.

Apart from constantly sniffing at me like I was rancid the dog played no real part in the rest of the evening except for the occasional yap and a couple of unpleasant suspicious smells. In fact from the moment we started dinner until nearly the end everything went well. The lady loosened up and the Peke went to sleep next to my ankles. The waiters were attentive and made a great fuss of us which was nice. The maitre d’hôtel even came over and offered us their special signature dish of ‘drunken prawns’ which we accepted.

They arrived with a large bowl which they half filled with rice wine and various pretty leaves, herbs and flowers. They then snuffed out our table candles and turned the lights down. By this stage we were puzzled. Finally the chef arrived with a large handful of live prawns which he dropped in the decorated bowl with a great flourish.

We watched in shock as the prawns swam around ingesting pure alcohol rather than sea water. At the optimum moment when the prawns must have been both drunken and probably dead they set fire to the lot and it flared up like a torch. It was mesmerising to see the prawns seemingly leaping about as the inferno raged.

All the other tables clapped, the flames were extinguished and the now cooked drunken prawns were served. They were delicious and I ate them all but I am not sure this was the reaction my guest was expecting from me. She left very soon after dragging her complaining ‘loan dog’ with her and I never got one iota of her business. Apparently she told someone I was ‘barbarous’.

Another prawn catastrophe happened when I went with a group of people to a seafood restaurant in Ostend in Belgium. I still maintain it was an unhappy coincidence and not my fault but the lady in question does not accept this. I will let you be the judge.

We were given a bowl of prawns and were enjoying shelling and eating them. The place was packed with people doing the same. We were all in high spirits after a particularly rigorous sales campaign and the drink and prawns were going down famously. That was until I cracked a joke just as my colleague Jenny was in the process of swallowing a prawn. She let out a snort and the prawn got totally stuck in the back of her nasal passage.

Now Jenny has/had a very pretty pointed nose covered in freckles and this soon became the centre of attention for the whole restaurant. ‘Snort’ went Jenny again. ‘Breathe in deeply’ some shouted. ‘Blow’ shouted others and very shortly and to yells of encouragement the offending prawn started to peak out of her left nostril. We were all rapt and I broke the silence by picking up a seafood utensil and offering to pick it out. Not a welcome suggestion.

Finally, to cheers and applause from at least 50 people Jenny snorted more and the prawn emerged far enough for her to get her fingers around it. To be fair she showed a lot of dignity as she slowly and daintily drew it out as though it was a perfectly normal thing and placed it on the side of her plate. She maintained she could smell garlic mayonnaise for the following fortnight.

It was clearly not my fault but you try telling Jenny that.

Dining out on Business Travel – Part 2

2011-05-16T12:43:00.001+01:00

You would have thought they might have learnt wouldn’t you? Having nearly poisoned us on dog they nearly went one stage further. Our German Vegan lady was already talking about needing counselling after one ethnic meal but the second one definitely made her mind up. If you have no idea what our culinary ‘Chinese doggy’ experience was see part 1.

Our hosts in Hong Kong were still keen to show us just how nice a truly local Chinese meal could be. To do this they remained determined not to take us to a tourist restaurant but one that well off locals might go to. This time they promised no doggy treats (and I am not talking biscuits here) but a fish feast instead. What could go wrong? Hmm I thought as shark fins and jelly fish flashed through my mind. ‘Don’t worry’ they assured us as only fresh fish and shellfish would be used in a pre-ordered set feast.

We arrived at a fantastic place. The whole of the large restaurant had a giant aquarium built into the wall which was teeming with beautiful coloured fish and even sea horses. Absolutely magical especially when lit up with various shades of discreet lighting. Everybody felt good, except for our German Vegan lady who somebody had unkindly nicknamed Helga the Hungry Hun. Again she did not know what the hell she could or could not eat.

Language was a problem again but it did not matter so much as the meal had been carefully chosen to suit western palates and we had a fantastic corner table right by the biggest part of the aquarium. The only uncomfortable feeling we had was when we were eating our main fish course we could imagine fish in the tank saying ‘oh my God that’s my friend Cyril on that plate!

Much to the consternation of the management ‘Helga’ was only eating plain boiled rice. ‘I will not get caught out again’ she vowed. Also she had made a new friend. It was the most gorgeous fish in the tank and it would not leave her alone. She would tap the glass and the fish would do all sorts of somersaults and headstands while staring at her intently with wide eyes. He became her friend and the table mascot. We even gave him the name Herman. Herman was one cool fish and Helga became besotted.

The waiter came over with the wine and Helga could not resist trying to find out more about Herman. She pointed him out and asked what kind of fish he was, how big he would grow, how old is he etc. It was obvious something was lost in translation because the waiter replied saying that it was an unusual request but he would speak to the manager.

I realised something very wrong when behind Helga’s back I saw a large net descend into the pool and scoop out Herman. ‘Oh no’ I thought, ‘please not Herman’. But it was too late and yes, it was Herman. He arrived with a flourish on a plate, in a bed of rice and with bit of garnish sticking out if his gills. He was no more and he was placed by the manager, with great ceremony, in front of Helga. She screamed as Herman lay there with his now blank eyes staring reproachfully at her.

‘What is wrong’ the manager asked as Helga fled to the taxi rank. ‘We did our best’ he continued. ‘We do not normally cook our aquarium fish for guests but the VIP lady asked so we made an exception’. He went off shaking his head and muttering in an inscrutable way about ungrateful foreigners while we asked for a bag to put Herman in.

We eventually left as our hosts were keen to placate Helga and a few of us weaved our way to the waterfront outside the Grand Hyatt hotel. We buried Herman at sea and got some very strange looks in the process. The bag was weighted with two ‘stolen’ items of cutlery and we slid him into the deep off a KFC carton we found on the way. One sentimental colleague imitated the playing of ‘the last post’. We filmed it all in the hope that it might give Helga ‘closure’. But it didn’t.

Dining Out on Business Travel – Part 1

2011-05-05T12:27:00.002+01:00

It is great when someone else is paying. You go to restaurants that you would never dream of frequenting if you were picking up the tab and they make a very welcome change to the local KFC. I have enjoyed many such lavish and sometimes damn unusual evenings out as my waistline and two visits to casualty will testify.

The most exquisite and possibly risky places I have ever dined in were in China including Hong Kong. The further you get out of the main centres of mass tourism the greater you test your taste buds and the more you discover just how squeamish you are.

On one visit to Hong Kong our local hosts decided to show us the ‘real China’ so they loaded us onto a coach and we headed off to the then border with the mainland. The thinking was to take in the sights and enjoy lunch in a well known restaurant where Chinese tourists went. It seemed a fine idea at the time and I think our hosts were prematurely congratulating themselves for thinking of it.

Unfortunately I nearly brought the whole thing to an end before it started. We arrived at one of the most dangerous looking borders I have ever seen. There were barracks around it and razor wire everywhere. Worst of all it was full of small fanatical looking soldiers who looked as though they would like nothing better than to shoot someone. We were told not to ‘do anything sudden’ and sit quietly at an outside table in the baking sun whilst our documents were checked. We were being chaperoned by two armed guards who looked like a pair of pit bulls straining at their leashes. ‘Make my day Punk’ they seemed to be thinking.

It was at this point my lighter exploded in the sun sending shards of plastic everywhere. I had bought it for next to nothing in the street outside my hotel and the combination of the sun’s rays and cheap components were all too much for it. I found myself the centre of attention. Guns were pointed and I had to lie on the floor with the rest of my bemused lunch companions while being screamed at in Chinese.

It took a while but eventually my explanation was accepted and off we went into the New Territories to find our ethnic restaurant. We eventually arrived after a hot and gruelling journey and got behind a huge queue of local tourists. Why anyone would queue to get in that hell hole I do not know. It seemed to be made of concrete squares and contained home made tables and a range of 24 different types of chairs (we counted them).

Our hosts soon discovered their big mistake. Being local there was no menu translation and no pictures of the dishes to decipher. There was nothing to tell us what we were eating so we ordered the ‘feast’ set meal. This arrived on 10 different types and colours of serving plates (we counted them) and their contents looked like the reject pieces from an abattoir.

The silence was palpable as we all sat there with our chopsticks staring at bits of beak, feet, possibly eyes and fins. The waiters extolled the virtues of each dish (in Chinese) and started ladling the choicest bits on our plates. It was bad for most of us but worse for our German colleague who was trying to explain she was vegan and American asking if it contained gluten. I do not think either got a conclusive answer.

The time had come to eat. By now we had become the centre of attention in the place. Other tables stopped to watch and even the chef had come out of the kitchen to see us enjoy his ‘feast’. I was first with a chicken foot and it was truly disgusting. Others started picking at their plates as it soon became clear that an international incident would be created if we refused to eat. It soon became a relay race to the toilet as one by one we bolted off gurgling like cats bringing up fur balls.

Somehow we managed to eat enough off our plates to make at least an appearance of having dined. We attacked the water and rice wine and started on a large bowl of rice that had mysteriously arrived unordered. Unfortunately the rice heralded the final dish which was the chef’s particular special that he prepared just for us. It was a stew. Well it had some kind of fatty liquid and there were lumps of meat in it.

The meat looked like a kind of pork belly. There was a strip of meat with a layer of fat covered with black crackling type skin. Unfortunately some of the skin still had a few hairs sticking out of them and it proved not to be at all crispy. With the chefs eyes boring into us we decided that the only way to deal with this was to swallow chunks whole. We were even quite organised and allowed the women to go first and swallow the smaller bits. Somehow we managed.

The chef was pleased to bits and shook all our hands. A Chinese lady from another table came over and asked in halted English whether we enjoyed Doll. ‘Doll’ we queried? ‘Yes Doll’ she replied. “You know, Woof Woof” she mimed. "Oh my God she meant dog not doll" said our vegan as the fur ball imitations started all over again.

We fled to the coach and many of us could not look a dog in the face for weeks!

A Secure Life Abroad – Part 6

2011-04-04T12:25:00.000+01:00

I nearly called this ‘things that go hiss in the night’ as it is more about creatures than people and quite a number are the type that slither. It seemed that you could put up walls, wire and bars to deter the two legged type of danger but these obstacles acted more like a kids climbing frame for the local wildlife.

I had a good grounding in dealing with critters as I spent much of my childhood living in Trinidad which had an unhealthy array of biting, stinging and spitting wildlife. We lived in a big house on stilts next to a river which had an open storm drain down the side of it which was a highly desirable residence for most things reptile and it was hear that our cat Monty spent most his days hunting.

His favourite meal was snake ‘surprise’. The ‘surprise’ was that he would bring them into the house to show us how clever he was. He knew how to grab them behind the head, to avoid being bitten, and how to leap away when dropped on the floor. He would then sit quietly licking his private parts as all those humans around him screamed and fled.

Unfortunately sometimes there were no humans around to witness his bravery and, if he wasn’t hungry he would simply leave them there and wander off for us to find later. It ended up getting so dangerous we decided to find a new home for Monty but the decision came too late for him. A creature killed him in a strange way. A large lizard (brought in for a ‘play’) ran behind our big old fridge and Monty quickly followed. Unfortunately the fridge motor came on just as Monty was climbing through the fan belt. R.I.P. Monty.

Snakes were a hazard in many places I visited. In Freetown I was visiting our manager’s house which was located in a place called Signal Hill. It should have been called ‘snake hill’ as it was the area of choice for most of Sierra Leone’s reptile population. There were four of us sitting in cane chairs and drinking beer way into the night when something caught the edge of my vision.

Lying, curled up around the cross bar under one occupied chair was a very nasty looking snake and it did not look very amused. This was because the chair’s occupant was swinging his legs in a relaxed way and his sandaled heel was mesmerising the creature. As it swung I could see its forked tongue darting out and smelling it. “Hey Neil”, I said trying to sound casual. “Don’t worry but there is a snake under your chair”

He looked at me and I looked at him. “You are joking right?” His eyes sought my reassurance and there was none. “Crap” he muttered, and bent his head right down between his knees. He came nose to nose with the reptile. “Glug” (or something similar his yelled as they locked eyes. The snake blinked first and fortunately fled which is fortuitous as apparently it was lethal. To this day Neill brags about out-staring a Cobra.

I was lucky in that I was never bitten by a snake. The nearest I got was in Kenya when I found one wrapped around the base of my home’s toilet. It was me, it, a confined space and my golf clubs which I stored in a corner. I stared at my clubs, worked out the distance and chose a nine iron. The snake was no more but neither was my nine iron. It was weird but, until I was able to replace it, I always seemed to need a nine iron out on the course!

Can TMC Brain Power Still Save Money?

2011-04-01T16:50:00.000+01:00

When I was at the TMC sharp end of the business I was a huge fan of employing clever people and, when possible, rewarding them for success in saving money for both my clients and my company I undertook quite a bit of research which confirmed to me that a good agent could bring an annual savings ROI of between 300% and 500%. Only trouble was that people were so focussed on taking any manpower cost out that they did not delve into the deeper implications of doing so.

Probably nothing much has changed in the last couple of years except that most of these clever folk have moved on to another industry. Headcount has given way to self book and people being employed are more likely to be for the lower skilled fulfilment side of these computer transactions. All cost is rightly under the microscope but is any allowance given to the need for savvy people who can look both inside and outside the box for service and savings opportunities?

As we all know, a booking computer is only as good as what is put inside it. It is also reasonably single focussed and can also be hoodwinked quite successfully when it comes to travel. Who is policing the content it stores? Who is fine tuning it? How often is it audited? Who is recognising the broader trends? This will become even more important soon as TMCs develop and refine their own yield and price capabilities.

I fear for a TMC industry that seems to be losing its own front line brains for the sake of saving a quick buck or two. Maybe someone will look at the same ROI figures that I did in the past and realise that employing smart people with the right incentives is an investment in saving money not just an unwelcome cost.

In some parts of the world there are big shortages of experienced staff as the market recovers. The UK is a good example where TMC stripped their staffing levels to the bone during the recession and now cannot get them back as demand rises. It is essential a way is found to maintain a core of bright ambitious people without having to chop them whenever the market varies. Corporates also need to think about this the next time they scream at their TMC to lower head count. They do not simply pop back when wanted any more.

A Secure Life abroad – Part 5

2011-03-28T13:14:00.001+01:00

Fortunately most of the ‘incidents’ that have taken place involving me during my travels have been relatively trivial. In fact some have turned out to be nothing of the sort. I can think of no better example than a short visit I made to Banjul, Gambia many years ago.

I had been told that The Gambia was a very safe place full of very nice people and it proved true. However it did not seem like that when, within minutes of arriving, my duty free cigarettes were stolen. They went when I was standing in the international arrivals and departures hut. I tell a lie. It was more a shed than a hut which comprised mainly of a bar with two trestle tables either side for the check in and arrivals formalities. The bar was full of expatriate males who were watching all new arrivals very carefully.

One of these guys, a very well spoken dignified chap. shuffled up to me and asked if I had any cigarettes I would be prepared to sell him. It turned out that Banjul had run out of European cigarettes the previous week and people were getting desperate. I felt sorry for him so I reached around for my cabin bag, which I put on the ground when another white hand (his accomplice) beat me to it, grabbed my Rothmans and dashed to a waiting Land Rover followed by my new but brief friend. The local customs officer rolled his eyes and said it was the third cigarette snatch that week.

Wow, I am going to have to be on my toes in this city I thought as I made my way to the hotel. No wonder some of the local houses looked so secure I thought as I gazed out of the taxi window. It turned out that some of them had four inch steel walls as apparently, after the second world war, some army or other had left behind all their tank tracks and steel mesh temporary road equipment, much to the delight of the local homeless.

My second incident happened in the centre of town. It was getting towards the end of the day very few people were around. I walked past a group of dangerous looking Gambians when one stood up and stared. I kept walking and he called after me. I walked a bit faster and he started following me. “Hey man” he shouted again and started to run. “Oh God” I thought and broke into a trot “Hey you white man” he called again and by this time we were both running fast.

He is going to catch me I thought so I decided to make my stand. I whirled round fists ready and teeth clenched. “Ok you bastard, you want some” I snarled as he came to a halt in front of me. “Excuse me sir” he answered “but I think you dropped your sun glasses and I am bringing them back to you”. In his giant hand were my sunglasses. I nearly died of shame there and then. To make it worse I offered him money in thanks which embarrassed him and shamed me further.

I left Gambia a much chastened person who had learned that not every citizen in a foreign country is a con artist or thief. I pondered this at the bar of the international arrivals and departures shed bar whilst waiting for my plane when a rat the size of a small Daschund ran across the counter and stole the meat from my ham sandwich (true) and fled. The locals are fine I surmised but the wildlife are definitely a bunch of villains!

A Secure Life Abroad - Part 4

2011-03-20T11:46:00.000Z

In the rough almost lawless days of Zambia in the early seventies the two strongest virtues people needed were stoicism and a sense of humour in equal measures. I mean if you took the situation too seriously or you could not take the danger you would have left on the first plane without a backwards look.

As I mentioned in a previous blog the country was riddled with guns but starved of food and hope. A crazy situation considering the weather and fertility of the ground should have made it heaven for farmers. But that is another story. You literally took a risk every time you left your house and you never stopped your car anywhere near a ditch or other potential hiding places. You always ‘jumped’ any traffic lights if you possibly could get away with it.

It did not help that you could never be absolutely sure who was reliable and who was not. The police or army for instance often doubled up as the bad guys and you had to make a judgement every time you came to a road block. I always carried cartons of cigarettes, company T shirts and pens and a hidden stash of money just in case I needed to ease my passing.

The deserted country highways were the most dangerous. A friend was driving his new Rang Rover to a place called Chingola where his company had a factory when he got stopped at a road block by people in army uniform. It turned out they were thieves. They took his car and then all his clothes. They did not want to humiliate him, they just needed his clothes. Considering the top star prize on Zambian TV shows was a pair of jeans it was hardly surprising. He (and probably his car) was stripped naked in a matter of minutes.

The man eventually got home and, the following day he went to Kitwe police station. He was giving his report when one of the thieves walked past. He was out of his army gear. But he was wearing a police uniform.

Two weeks later I was on the Chingola road. It seemed deserted apart from the occasional burnt out truck where various drivers had fallen asleep at the wheel which was a regular occurrence. It was teeming with rain and as I came around one of the few corners I saw a road block in front of me. It consisted of collapsed sign a large tree branch and a bedraggled khaki tent. There was no way I was stopping. I drove around it and was accelerating away when the bullet hit. It went through the rear window and out the windscreen in front of the passenger seat. To this day I do not know if it was army or thief. Or both as I did not stop to ask.

As I said at the beginning sometimes you had to laugh. Another friend had an attempted break in but miraculously they had not cut the phone wire. He lay on the bedroom floor and phoned the police. They did not answer for ages but eventually a sleepy voice answered. ‘Help’ my friend pleaded ‘I am being robbed’. ‘Oh’, came the reply. ‘We have no transport, can you come and pick us up’. ‘No I bloody can’t’ my friend replied. ‘Oh, well tell them to go away’ came the advice. ‘GO AWAY’ my friend shouted at the armed robbers. And they did!

The police can also act in the most extraordinary way as I personally found out. We had neighbour problems. The house next door was owned by a Zambian with a very powerful stereo and an interesting choice of music. She had only one record which was ‘Jolene’ by Dolly Parton and she played it over and over again at top volume. It was shattering and eventually I thought ‘sod it I am ringing the police’ rather like you might do in say the UK.

I rang the police station and to my surprise they took it very seriously indeed. Are your neighbours black they asked me pointedly? Fears of being branded a racialist struck me but I answered ‘yes’. ‘Typical’ the policeman snorted,’ just because they have money they think they can behave badly but we will show them, can you collect us we have no transport’. ‘I do not want any trouble over this but could you please just reason with them’ I answered lamely.

I went around to the local station and they were waiting for me. There were two. They looked like Mike Tyson’s bigger brothers and they were armed to the teeth.’ Is this necessary’ I asked as they levered themselves and their rifles into the back of my small Fiat saloon. I drove them home. Every time we went over a bump their rifle barrels made holes in the roof lining. On arrival Jolene was still wailing and being told not to take her love to town.

Have you ever seen ‘Apocalypse Now”? You know the bit where troops zigzag through cover to advance on an enemy position? Well that is what these two policemen did. They advanced across the front garden bush by bush giving each other cover. They ended up pinned either side of the front door, weapons locked and loaded. The door opened and the poor women came face to face with two AK 47s held by two Mike Tysons. She nearly had a heart attack and we never heard Jolene ever again.

So there you go. You could never know what you were going to get but I can say with certainly that although life was sometimes scary it was never boring.

Combined Airline Deals – Good or Bad?

2011-03-18T15:01:00.000Z

I was surprised to read that one of the new British Airways/Iberia/American Airlines triumvirate had stated that the market can expect combined corporate deals within the coming few months. Astonishing really considering alliances have been finding reasons ranging from anti trust to market difference to avoid doing such a thing in the past. However, if they now go ahead it has the potential to impact the market as significantly as direct connect.

Let us assume such deals are going to come on the market. What will they look like? What benefits or otherwise will they deliver? What value (if any) will they bring? And was it worth globalising ones travel programme for? Here are some of my thoughts which I must emphasise are my own and not shaped by what anyone else has said on the subject.

There will be a clear set of obstacles for the airlines, not the least of which will be coming to some mutual consensus. None of them will want to dilute existing yield particularly in their own market and they all have their own regulatory rules to abide by. For example BA and Iberia cannot fall foul of European competition law and AA has to live with its own US legislation. There is also an imbalance in that Iberia is based in a much smaller and less corporately mature market than the other two with less to contribute in key business areas.

The biggest obstacle is that of desire/willingness to combine commercial strategies particularly between AA and BA who are still deadly rivals for the same customers. Admittedly they will be very interested in being favoured with onward traveller connections but the core routes (and yields therein) are equally vital to both. However they will be interested in marrying their main services and ancillary connections together to best economic effect hence you can understand why Virgin and others tried to stop this happening.

If they are really serious about coming up with joint corporate deals (which I still doubt) what will they look like? I think they will follow the models used by some alliances with TMCs. I explained a bit about this in my blog in June last year under the heading ‘Global Travel Programmes – Delivering? Here it is again:

a) Initial deals will not be very different to now except there will be a bonus if you have arrangements with the others too.
b) An overall separate umbrella deal will be introduced over and above individual ones. This will be linked to growth.
c) The above will then start being modified so that you only earn if you achieve certain targets on all participating airlines.
d) The overall deal will be tightened to the extent that you have to put all participating carriers in your programme whether you wish to or not.

Eventually you may get one complete deal but it will be riddled with conditions and caveats as they all really do operate differently in different markets and different cultures and customers. You will not say get the same deal with BA as you get with AA and then both of those will be different to Iberia. And you wouldn’t want to either.
Call me an old cynic but I have said it before and will no doubt say it again. These airlines are not coming together to offer better financial packages to customers. Why should they? They are combining to win more customers and greater economies through linking services, connections and cost. The customer should get a better overall package but not necessarily a cheaper price. This is really just a much improved version of code sharing or alliances and you will soon see service harmonisation and rationalising happen.

In saying all this I believe it to be just the start of a journey towards meaningful global deals. Airlines saw commission reductions, net pricing and unbundling as ways to improve profit and look where that got them. If market pressures grow they will have to broaden their commercial offering in the future.

A Secure Life Abroad – Part 3

2011-03-13T09:17:00.001Z

These people must be daft I snorted as I read about some unfortunate but ‘stupid’ traveller who had naively put themselves in a dangerous part of a foreign land and allowed themselves to be mugged. How idiotic of them. Don’t they realise that these places are not the same as home? Can’t they see the poverty around them which can breed crime? Then I thought back over my travels and realised the risks I and many others place themselves in every time they leave their homes or hotels.

Either crime is not as frequent as we believe or I have a brilliant guardian angel walking the streets with me. Mind you this guardian angel sometimes had a day or evening off and occasionally I did end up in a bit of trouble as I will now tell. Strangely, one of these experiences ended up in a kind of friendship that lasted a couple of years.

My office in Zambia was located in a parade of shops. Cars were parked in a square behind that was accessed through any of three narrow alleys. Logic said one should never walk down these alone after dark but it was late and I needed to go home. I was very self aware when I started walking. Every sense was working overtime as I listened and watched carefully as I started my walk. Half way down I knew I was being followed and sure enough he chose his moment and jumped me from behind.

After the initial shock I realised this guy was small, old and very weak. He also had cataracts in both eyes and three remaining teeth. I knew this as in a very short time I was sitting on his chest looking down on him. He was also clearly defiant as he would not stop wriggling under my 13 stone bulk. I was planning on punching him very hard but I could not bring myself to do it especially, when seeing my raised fist, he stopped struggling and said “Good evening Sah” whilst grinning toothlessly.

I got off him and lifted him up. His name was George and he was a remarkably old looking 50 years old. He said he had a family to feed and could not get work so he had decided to branch out into mugging. It was his first night in his new profession and I was his first ‘victim’. Now you get a lot of sob stories in Zambia but most of them are true. Life is tough when you are poor and even worse if you are poor, old and having to look after an extended family. This guy qualified on all points.

You are going to have to quit this new enterprise before you get hurt I told George. I am already hurt Bwana he replied whilst trying to get his breath back from his winded chest. I left him there and went to my car and sat in it for a while as I could not get him out of my mind. Eventually I got out and went back. Sure enough half way back up the alley he only tried again. It’s me George I said as he clung to my neck. “Good evening Sah” he replied.

He ended up working for me. We needed a messenger and he needed work. We did not pay him much and he did steal the occasional shopping item and cigarette from me but never money. His big moment was when he tried to smuggle a large dead chicken out of the office down the back of his trousers. He used to get drunk, drugged and sleepy occasionally but in the main he was a good messenger. In fact a darn sight better messenger than mugger!

Travel Evolution is not just about Technology – Right?

2011-03-09T15:33:00.000Z

I always thought technology drives most change and the travel industry is no different to any other business in this respect. I assumed that the reason for travel evolution being so painful was that new technology had been so scarce for so long that now it has arrived people are overdosing on it. However unlike the pharmaceutical business nobody has tested products, understood the correct dosage or learned how to deal with adverse reactions.

Already you can look back over the recent past and see all sorts of corporate travel wonder solutions that have not actually delivered in accordance with their hype. Many were unsuitable, unrealistic or simply did not work but they all looked damn good on paper. Apart from any basic flaw there seems to be something in the way of success and I think I know what it may be.

The plain truth of it is that whatever new initiatives come along they will only be embraced if the various key players in the supply chain want to make it happen. Like the old saying that you can take a horse to water but you cannot make it drink the same goes for managed travel programmes and compliance. You still cannot get somebody to change their mindset unless you force them or justify your actions and I see precious little of either going on.

You see there are many people, either through tradition or personal experience, who still view travel as a service experience rather than a commodity. And whilst there are different suppliers of varying quality, frequent flyer programmes and individual timescales and demands there will always be service choices needed. When you think of it most corporations are insisting their employees undertake personal risks and comfort challenges with very little research into safety and standards. How do you know the airlines you have chosen are safe and comfortable? Cheap yes…but. A question that could soon be asked by lawyers in regard to ‘duty of care’.

It is not just the traveller who still has a perception that service is important. You can often see this ‘malaise’ in some suppliers and a large number of TMCs. I suspect they are getting so frustrated that service is not being given a value by typical procurement that they will continue to reduce it to a minimum like the low cost carriers. Why bother creating a value and service differentiator if nobody is interested in paying for it.

For so long the travel industry has been built around giving good service and being rewarded for doing so. Travellers too want to know they will be safe, comfortable and that somebody will be there for them if something goes wrong. Those buyers who focus mainly on unbundling, constant cost reduction and commoditisation need to take note.

My answer to my own question is yes, technology is key to the future but only as an enabler not as a solution. Pick your target end solution that matches your company ethos and then look for the enabling technology. I have seen so many people commit to unproven technology to try and solve an issue they did not really have. What is more important is service and solutions and if you embrace the need for the former to deliver the latter then all you need to do is choose the technology to enable it to happen.

My life in Hotels – Part 4

2011-03-09T12:34:00.000Z

Thankfully most of my nights in hotels have been paid for by the various companies I have worked for. A good job too as in many cases I would have been pretty outraged to pay for them myself. One of the numerous Holiday Inns around and in Toronto would be a case in point. I had a night from hell within its walls.

It had all started in the British Airways First Class lounge at the airport where I was sitting, sipping good wine and enjoying their pre-boarding dinner service. All of a sudden the flight was cancelled and the decision was made to overnight passengers in local hotels. The lounge staffs were courtesy itself. That is until they saw my ticket and discovered not only was I an upgrade but also a travel agent. It went from “I am so very sorry sir, your limousine is waiting to take you to your suite” to “Get in that other queue behind the economy passengers and wait for a bus”. A bitter blow.

We arrived late and tired at a hotel that looked even more tired than we were and then given a lecture on what we were not allowed to sign for. We were given keys to our rooms and I went up in the lift with this little skinny chap who looked like he needed a good bath. I found my room which was right next door to his. It was a featureless box of a place that seemed to harbour traces of every previous guest in the cracks in the floor and bathroom tiles. It even had a solitary pubic hair in the sink. How did that get there I thought to myself.

We did not have our suitcases so I slunk between the grey sheets wearing underwear and a bath towel and drifted into an uneasy sleep. Then the itching started. I was being eaten alive by something and they had clearly brought their relatives with them. I must have looked very strange gyrating in my towel as I tried to scratch myself. Then it all started up next door.

The walls were very thin and I had underestimated my skinny grubby neighbour. It sounded like an orgy going on in there and I heard at least two separate women’s voices. He was clearly a sexual athlete and boy did he shout about it. The more he shouted the louder his companions squealed and groaned. This was long ago and way before Viagra but this guy just went on and on for most of the night. There is nothing worse than lying alone in the dark, being bitten by bugs and hearing somebody so close having a great time.

Finally he stopped and somewhere I heard a door slam shut. I fell into a deep sleep until I got a crazy un-ordered alarm call 10 minutes later that the airline had pre-booked so we could go and wait for hours at Pearson Airport. I dragged myself down to the foyer and queued to pay any extras at the check out counter. In front of me was my skinny grubby friend who had a relaxed but smug look on his face. Sleep well he asked while rubbing his stubble. “No” I replied “Did you” I asked? “Oh yes” he said.
“Liar” I thought.

Finally his turn to pay came and that was the moment everything became a lot clearer. He looked at his bill and started an argument. I am not paying for that, you should charge the airline he snarled. “Listen guy” the cashier replied “The airline don’t pay for the porno channels and you watched all of them twice”

So that was it. I had been devoured by bed bugs and spent half the night being kept awake by the TV next door showing porno films played at top volume. When I got to the airport I met a most concerned passenger service agent who told me it had all been a silly mistake by the lounge staff. Apparently, as I had been checked into first class I was entitled to that service in the event of delays. On realising their error they had booked me a room in a nearby 5 star hotel but, as I had already gone to bed they decided not to call me in case I was already asleep.

“Mr Platt, are you OK” they asked as I went pale, except for the red bite marks. Of course, just great, fantastic I muttered in reply.

My 'Greatest Hits'

2011-03-03T20:15:00.003Z

It has been a year since I started my blogs and I just had a look at my stats to see which ones of my 80+ posts recieved the biggest 'hits'. It was pretty close but I found the top ones from both my business and humour blogs and am pleased to reproduce them now for those that missed them. They are about TMC/Supplier relationships and a catastrophe I endured in an Australian toilet!
Here they are:

Can TMCs Really Influence Business?
Part 2 -Deals
OK, so we got to the point where we ascertained that TMC/agents still get incentives from suppliers, albeit presented in a different shape. I also mentioned that, in my opinion, this need not necessarily be a bad thing for corporate customers if managed right. What I did not go into in any detail was a) what these deals are b) how TMCs do (or do not) shift business and c) how such deals could benefit all. So let me address at least one of these points now and deal with the others another time.

What kind of deals?

There are three main types which are growth percentage rewards, net fares that can be marked up and increase share payments.

Payments for growth are usually a percentage of net ticket value sometimes paid back to zero and sometimes just for the growth element compared with previous year. Percentages paid vary enormously depending on supplier size, their importance/share of the local market and their strategic need to buy a way into the region. I have heard of deals ranging around 2% from a big volume airline to 50% from someone trying to make inroads into a market. Such deals are pretty unfashionable now in most primary markets but do still happen in numerous places around the globe especially from suppliers who have no effective systems to measure performance.

As time past some of the more major airlines started to get concerned that TMCs might simply start doing growth deals with all their competitors as, in a growing market, the prospects of growing volume with everyone was high. Also volume could vary greatly simply by the losing or winning of a major volume corporate account. This ultimately got addressed by airlines ‘red ringing’ the biggest clients which meant their volumes were taken out for volume and payment purposes.

There have always been a few net fare deals about. This is where an airline offers a fixed net price to specific agents who can mark it up by as much as they think they can get away with. These net fares were targeted towards specialist agencies who were involved in markets such as ethnic or tourist travel. In the main the plan was to gain this business but not dilute their yields by exposing such discounts to the corporate market. Nevertheless there has been growing overlap which usually manifests itself by corporate travellers that gets hold of the fare and demands to know why his TMC cannot match it. This has been going on for many years but in recent times some USA airlines have dallied in this area too by offering net business prices to TMCs instead of overrides.

In an attempt to make future deals work airlines started introducing rewards based on share increase. This is infinitely more difficult to measure and depended on the airline itself to produce the results with no way for the TMCs to verify them. Some of these deals became so very complex that it was almost impossible for anyone to predict what would be paid. .Another issue was that, for some dominant airlines such deals were considered by the authorities as anti-competitive and thereby illegal. However these deals are still widespread today.

Most modern deals are far more sophisticated and linked to ‘service level agreements’ (SLAs) although this term is a misnomer in my view. What they effectively do is reward TMCs for performing (or allowing) certain activities. These activities vary from allowing access to their staff, account managers and senior management to shifting share, providing key MI on their clients, promoting the airline’s campaigns and supporting a particular strategy. All such activities are measured and rewarded accordingly. These ‘incentives’ seem to work reasonably well for both parties as the airline usually sees more volume and the TMC gets it’s money in a way that negates them having to pay it straight on to the corporation as extra client income/overrides.

Originally TMCs used to negotiate SMAs with individual airlines but even that has moved on. Now the suppliers are trying to do deals by Alliances rather than individual members. These usually manifest themselves as umbrella incentives paid only if the TMC performs with a certain minimum number of their partners. This way the dominant airline in any alliance group can demand TMC preferred status for their smaller partners that would not otherwise register on their radar screen. Such deals are highly unpopular with most eligible TMCs for obvious reasons and particularly because many airline partners are either unable to provide accurate data or simply not a product they want in their portfolio especially if they clash with another preferred supplier.

Consolidation by alliances is one thing but the ability/desire to agree a global incentive agreement is even harder and suppliers have, in the main, been reticent to do this either with TMCs or corporations. Don’t get me wrong, there are some prototype deals out there but I am highly sceptical of their current value to anyone. After all the airlines still work on a system where they cannot tell their overseas offices what to do as they are cost centres in their own right and have the authority to say no.

Finally I expect to see a new type of deal arriving and it is not a million miles away from the net concept. Well actually it is here now but only in it’s formative state. The arrival of TMC specific fares is here and expanding. In the past, probably as a result of past legacies, airlines have stuck to treating all TMCs the same as each other as far as fares are concerned. This is changing with the arrival of new generation TMC technology platforms that can be very specific about who sees what fare where and when.. This will enable them to drive business to (and from) airlines at the press off a button. Airlines will be able to flex the fares they offer depending on need and thereby have a tighter grip on their yields in a similar way to what they do on their own dot com sites…if the TMC is incentivised enough to support them. As I say, it is early days but worth watching.

This subject is vast and worthy of a day seminar rather than a brief blog entry however I hope it gives some a basic grasp of what is going on in this somewhat secretive area. More on how such deals are supported and how I think all could benefit next time.

My Life in Toilets – Part 1
Yes I know…a strange title but stay with me.
In the process of writing these blog ‘memoires I started to realise how often the word ‘toilet’ was coming up. This sounds odd to me too but I began to realise that toilets had played an important (albeit traumatic) part in my career over the years.

Some of you who may have read my rambling will remember how I fought an Australian in a Sydney W.C. and a large female attendant in a toilet next to the Paris perimeter motorway but these are just small skirmishes in my war with public conveniences of the world. I have fought with and in toilets across all continents and I feel I owe it to posterity to clear my conscience now as I lurch towards my twilight years. After all, how many people can say they have lost business, ruined relationships and been arrested whilst simply trying to relieve myself.

My most disastrous first memory was when I got arrested for indecent exposure in Perth, Western Australia. It was an awful misunderstanding. I had flown to the other side of the world to visit my then girlfriend who had been ‘forced’ to emigrate with her parents a few weeks previously. I travelled on airline staff tickets and it took me two sleepless days to make the journey. I found her address which was in the suburbs of the city and presented myself on her doorstep unannounced. Her new boyfriend answered the door!

What has this terrible tale of a jetlagged and broken heart got to do with toilets? That came later when she, her new boyfriend and her parents felt obliged to take me along to a dinner dance they were about to leave for. I was clearly as welcome as hem aroids .We sat at a big table with huge flagons of cold Swan Lager in the middle and I sat and watched the lovely Sue dancing with her new love so closely that you could not squeeze a cigarette paper between them.

There was nothing for it so I turned to drink. After consuming one flagon by myself I felt the most excruciating need to relieve myself so I stood up and made my way unsteadily across to the corner of the room where the toilets were. It was all a blur to me but apparently I first went into the ladies and got ejected. I went through another door which said ‘MEN’ and there was a further plain door on the left going into the toilet itself and another on the right that provided access to another entertainment room.

By this stage I really feared I was not going to make it in time so I started unzipping and preparing as I walked. I was out and ready as I turned right and fell into the other function room where they were celebrating a golden wedding. There was uproar. One of the people there was an off duty police officer and he immediately pinned me to the wall, read me my rights and arrested me for indecent exposure.

He phoned for back-up and a car and marched me out onto the pub forecourt whilst I continued trying to pull up my zip. The zip got caught (some of my male readers may understand the pain) which made things even worse. To cap it all they would not let me go back in so I had to pee against the wall which added another charge to my sheet.

My lovely ex and her family knew nothing of this until they got a call from the police station and an order to come and collect me. By this time I had been able to explain my jet lag, tiredness and misery and they took pity on me after having a good laugh at my expense. Needless to say I was disowned by my reluctant hosts who drove me to Perth Airport where I spent the night in the departures hall.

Whenever I go back to Australia I always wonder if one day I will stand at the immigration desk and this arrest with reason will flash up on the screen. So far so good but there is more to come in ‘Toilets 2’ the sequel!

My life in hotels – Part 3

2011-02-28T18:47:00.001Z

I’ve been in some weird ones and that’s a fact so I thought I would dedicate a few paragraphs to three that stick in my memory the most. Like the one in the Gulf that had a trout stream (yes a trout stream with trout) running through the lounge and patio. I remember I dropped my glasses case in it by mistake and had to sprint across the patio to grab it before the waterfall carried it down to the next floor. Worst of all the sound of tinkling water kept me awake and wanting to go to the toilet all night.

Then there was the Anouska Hempel owned hotel somewhere near Knightsbridge. That was a weird one. It was a ‘trendy’ boutique hotel that had individually themed rooms and mine apparently was designed with a kind of Bedouin tent look. It was in effect black. Well the walls were throughout…and so I think was the ceiling. This ‘black’ look extended to the bathroom as well.

The floor was made up of old creaking boards and the bed was a four poster shrouded in canvas and netting. I counted the scatter cushions and there was something like 32 of them. Fantastic if you wanted a feast, love-in or satanic rite but not perfect for business travel. Worst of all there was a hole in the ceiling above the bed and I wondered whether porn’s equivalent of Cecil B DeMille was in the room above with a wide angled lens. All he would have got on celluloid that night was me cutting my toe nails. I had strange dreams that night.

The bed was almost as weird as the one I had in the Bermudiana Hotel in Hamilton Bermuda many years ago. You cannot miss the hotel because it is huge and painted pink. I turned up very late at night as my flight in from Miami had been delayed and they did not know who the hell I was. All they knew was that the hotel was full. All except one ‘special’ suite. I had a piece of paper in my hand that said I had a reservation so they reluctantly gave me the keys to the ‘special’ suite.

I was starving so before going to bed I went for dinner. Dining alone? I was asked cryptically. Err yes, I said as he walked off pulling a face. After dinner I went for a drink in the bar. Drinking alone? I was asked. Yes, I said turning red. Building up a bit of courage are you? Ehh? I replied. “You’re the man” the bartender called out as I left.

The mystery was solved in big scarlet letters when I got to the double doors of my penthouse. Bridal Suite they said. So that was why everyone could not understand why I was alone and carrying a briefcase. The room was vast. It was perched at the top of the hotel and the main feature was a spectacular circular bed at least 8 feet in diameter under a mirrored ceiling. The sheets were scarlet satin which gave me mild electric shocks every time I moved. Within 10 minutes of sitting on it every hair on my legs was bolt upright and charged with static electricity.

I decided that if I was going to sleep in this garish, slippery nest I was going to have a nightcap drink first. I went to the drinks cabinet and discovered it was almost as big as the bar downstairs. So me and my dear friends Jack Daniels and Remy Martin had a few before I tottered tipsy and jet-lagged to my raunchy sleeping quarters.

I jumped aboard and sat there in my striped pyjamas looking a totally sad. It was then I noticed some controls above the pillows. I pressed one and to my shock my world, or should I say my bed started to rotate and ripple. I couldn’t stop it. I pressed everything but all I managed was to get it turning the other direction. To hell with it I thought and fell asleep whilst cruising at about two miles an hour around my own axis.

I was awoken by the sound of wedding bells being played loudly. It was the suite door bell. I leapt out of bed forgetting I was on the move and crashed into the side table that was not moving and was, at that moment located at the bottom of the bed. As I was floundering in an undignified pile both doors swung open and in wafted not one but two waiters with a giant trolley.

Hello, can we come in they called. You are in I replied. Ooh they said and how are you and your new ‘wife’? Is she in the bathroom? Is she shy? They asked smiling at each other in a knowing way. Out I said firmly and poked them through the doorway. I then saw what they had left behind.

The trolley was vast and included huge amounts of food including caviar, two bottles of champagne and a massive floral display. Right I thought. It’s a mistake on their part but I am going to eat and drink the lot. Which I did.

When I checked out they asked if I had taken room service breakfast. Yes I said but if you look at my reservation I am entitled to bed and breakfast within the rate. But you ate the $500 honeymoon breakfast they said. I may have eaten it but I didn’t order it I called back as I weaved myself out of the hotel and into a taxi.

Travel Services – Buying is just the beginning.

2011-02-28T12:14:00.000Z

I have encountered many of what I would call classic buyers in my career selling travel services. By that I mean very professional people who know exactly what they want and how to get it at the best rate. They are well practised in procedures and buying protocol and have a clear plan. Good stuff, but is it enough? I do not think so.

I think there are better deals to be done and improved return if two other abilities are learned and brought into play. They are presentation and selling skills. Buyers should know how to buy but there are often other considerations that come into play when buying a service like travel. For example unless you really are going to issue a mandate that is capable of monitoring and enforcing there is likelihood you could lose 20% volume from the programme. You will also probably be buying from people who are frankly not up to dealing with professional buyers. This brings me back to selling and presenting.

Most travel suppliers are becoming more and more cynical and suspicious about the ability of buyers to deliver volume negotiated in travel deals. They are now starting to hold back a little and only give the best package to those that convince them they can deliver volume where there mouth is. The most mutually successful deals I have seen are where buyers are able to ‘sell’ their ability to deliver in a way that has credibility. I once helped a buyer create their own volume delivery agreement which they gave to a delighted supplier and got a fantastic market leading deal.

The deal itself is the beginning not the end of the project. There are numerous ways people can get round a policy and I have seen them all. I could write a book about it! However many loopholes can be closed , or at least made harder, by the ability of the buyer to get to the right internal audience along with a strong sponsor and present their case. To me this is more important than the deal itself.

I have always tried to tell myself that to be successful I should out-sell the salesman and successfully communicate how clever I (the company) has been. After all if you have used you selling skills to get an exceptional programme you might as well you communicate the benefits to ensure everyone knows and acts upon it.

There is so much talk and activity around apps, social networking et al. perhaps if we used some of these fast developing tools to focus on compliance and rationales then companies would have greater control and diminished leakage. A better ROI than repetitive tendering and programme changes to keep a leaking travel bucket full.

My Life in Hotels Part 2

2011-02-20T13:48:00.000Z

Some of you may remember I commented previously that I only get decent hotel rooms when I am on my own and whenever my wife Judith comes along I get a diabolical one. It has become a bit of a standing joke between us though I am not convinced she sees the funny side of it. One particular example of this was when we both ended up staying at the Cumberland Hotel London many years ago.

It is quite an upmarket place now with statues, bright marble and bohemian looking reception staff but then it was a tired, enormous monolith of a place. In those days the numerous rooms housed mass tourists from every part of the world plus guests using their banqueting facility. It was for the latter that we were there for.

The evening started badly. At literally the last moment I managed to scrounge a second place for Judith who quickly climbed into her finery and jumped into the car which promptly would not start. I frantically called the local garage who came round, scratched their heads tut-tutted a lot and said “This car is going nowhere mate”. However they did agree to lend us their young mechanics car for the night. This was an ancient Ford Escort with lots of stickers and a giant whip aerial. We looked rather special in it seeing as we were wearing full evening dress.

We arrived at the hotel late and rather bedraggled as we had soon found out that although you could wind the window down you could not then wind them up again. As we could not find anywhere near Marble Arch to park and as I was not aware the hotel had a car park I decided to pull in front of the main entrance and give the keys to the doorman. It was amusing to see his face as he tried to climb in top hat and all while the next car (a Porsche Carrera) waited.

There was no time to spare so, instead of checking in we dashed (via the ladies loo) to the banqueting suite. It turned out to be a bland affair. I could hear nothing because of the big band next to my right ear and Judith had a monosyllabic man with halitosis next to her. Thankfully the formalities ended before midnight and off we went to check in. Unfortunately they said they had no rooms left except for one single they kept for ‘emergencies’.

It was the worst single I have ever had the misfortune to be put in as it was tiny, next to the lift and contained little more than a small bed and a basin. Needless to say Judith loved it. “This is lovely” she said over and over again as she tried to take her make-up off without tripping up over her very expensive dress that was precariously balanced over the single wooden chair.

Actually it wasn’t the absolutely worse single but I was on my own that time. I was at the old Heathrow Park Hotel. I had a room next to reception and I first identified something was wrong when I noticed all the locks were on the outside. I then spotted the barred windows and realised it was a room usually kept to detain deportees overnight before expulsion. “Don’t worry” the receptionist said. Just ring us in the morning and we will let you out “You are after all on an agent’s discount”. That does not make me a bad person” I replied. Anyway, I digress.

We went to bed and I now know how sardines must feel. It was hell but somehow we both fell into an exhausted sleep...until the door was knocked on for the first of a number of times. Having slithered out of my side of the bed I opened the door to find this middle aged lady with lots of lipstick and few clothes who asked me if I ‘fancied a push’. It took a moment for my sleep addled brain to realise what she was saying. It did not take her as long to understand what my wife was yelling from the bed. This happened three further times before we got up at about three in the morning to drive home for some rest.

When we went to check out we found we were in a queue of ladies. All of them were trying to exchange the foreign currency they had been earning upstairs. These included our first lady who had obviously persuaded a yen paying Japanese person to have ‘a push’. It seems they had a special method of business in such hotels where they obtain a list of all the numbers of single rooms and work their way around them in the hopes of finding lone and lonely men. We fled into the night in our whip aerialled chariot and vowed never to return.

The Cumberland is an amazing old structure. What many people don’t know is that it has as many floors under the ground as above. They are all low ceilinged and very much how I assume the catacombs look. They are deserted except for old furniture and I think they may have been used in the Second World War

In the end I did actually go back. It was when the hotel changed ownership and had been given a total revamp. It really is quite gorgeous and not a lady of the night in sight. I had a great room too…as Judith was not with me!

Anybody Understand the Corporate Hotel Market?

2011-02-18T14:38:00.000Z

I spoke to somebody last week about the problems they were having whilst trying to organise a managed hotel programme for their company. He is new to this side of the business and could not comprehend the basic issues he was facing. All he was certain of was that nobody really knew what the company spent and whether they were getting good value. Ok they had a corporate card that most travellers used but nobody seemed to be able to tell him any useful spend detail.

He was also concerned that there seemed no simple, coordinated and efficient way of making, changing or cancelling bookings. There were so many different ways and each with varying processes. Some you could book online and some you couldn’t. Some on the GDS but most not. The majority necessitated a call to an agency which cost too much for such a transaction. He correctly identified that these variations contributed greatly to the lack of proper MI. What he wanted to know from me was what the problem is? Why is it so hard to book hotels in a way that gives him as a buyer what he absolutely needs to do his job? I gave him the basics as I saw them and thought you might like to read them too.

The hotel market is hugely fragmented. There are thousands upon thousands of hotel and most of them act individually. Yes there are major hotel chains and yes there are consortiums but even here a large amount are privately owned. Consolidating a programme becomes very difficult when there are so many different players with different systems and different communications methods and language. This differs hugely from airlines which are not only far smaller in numbers but use the same GDS booking platforms and share similar systems and codes however I did warn him that this may be changing soon!

So how should one make a reservation? It would be good to combine it with the air or rail booking but unfortunately the range of hotels in the airline booking systems (GDS) is tiny compared with the market. Add to that the difficulty of being able to use your own negotiated fares or room allocations and it becomes not a very feasible option.
You could connect to the numerous hotel booking web sites but again can you be sure you will be booking your deal and capturing sufficient detail. You might get one-off savings using their buying power but creating a nightmare in payment, reporting and control terms.

Out of frustration and a desire to save fees charged by agencies many travellers book direct with the hotel but is that what you really want them to spend time doing? And then again you could miss out on consolidated MI for policy measurement, security and negotiating purposes. I can understand why travellers or their administrators want to make hotel bookings personally but in my view you can forget about control if you let them do it. It is also very vexing when they find out the hotel GM is spot selling rates cheaper than your centrally negotiated deal. This is another thing that regularly happens in this industry.

I advised him that I can only see one logical way of consolidating all ones spend items together and that is through a Travel Management Company (TMC). There are not that many yet who can provide a true solution and it does not come for nothing so buyers need to be absolutely committed in order to reap full benefit

You basically need to find a TMC that can deliver a system that seamlessly links the GDS booking system to their own separate hotel booking and management platform. This platform needs to directly connect with the main hotel chains and have the ability to store and manage your negotiated rates and room allocations with them and the others. All this, and other services need to be on one customer friendly booking screen. It would also be valuable to have this screen branded to your company not the TMC.

Taking pre booked room allocations at key locations is essential in order to allow the system to confirm rooms to travellers straight away and avoid unnecessary costly and time consuming middle-man phone calls. These allocations when combined with those negotiated by the TMC themselves often mean that hotels that seem full can still be bookable to you. It also results in your travellers have their own company one stop shop that pulls together their whole journey along with bolt on services such as policy compliance authorisation system and communication opportunities.

To me his choice is relatively straightforward. He either does what 90% plus of corporations do which is keep their hotel programme separate from air or go the whole hog and combine the two in an online total travel solution which is only now beginning to become a viable solution. I wished him luck and went back to my hotel room…which I booked myself!

My life in hotels Part 1

2011-02-13T17:06:00.001Z

I’ve been in some strange rooms in some strange places in my time. I suppose it is hardly surprising considering my career as an airline and travel agency man. They have ranged from a shed like structure in Kenya to an unintentional baroque style brothel in Columbia. The latter tried to deliver to me a whole new concept in bed turnover service that included two French maids and their ‘apparatus’...

I have stayed in some pretty opulent rooms too and one I still remember today for a number of reasons. It was at the Mayfair in London. It is a grand old hotel with mainly huge rooms and a justified 5 star rating. Part of my job at the time was buying hotel rooms for my agency so they obviously decided to impress me by an upgrade to one of their best rooms called the ‘Maharaja Suite’.

I always find it ironic that whenever alone and on business I get great rooms but when travelling with my wife they are invariable tiny and above the hotel kitchen. As I found my suite which topically had a picture of an Indian elephant on the door I reminded myself to say nothing to Judith when I got home as, for some reason, she never seems terribly pleased for me! However, after what I experienced, I could not resist.

The Maharaja suite was vast and bigger than my home at that time. It had a lounge with a huge balcony, two bathrooms and two big bedrooms. In the lounge there was a beautiful, and very expensive black shiny Steinway grand piano and I could not resist the urge to play something. I was half way through the one fingered version of ‘Michael Row the Boat Ashore’ when I could not help but notice some nasty deep scratches above the keyboard and on the top.

My first thought was ‘Oh no, they might think it was me, I better call the manager immediately’. I rang a very calm man who said he would be right up to explain. When he arrived he reassured me the scratches were not only known about but preserved for posterity. It seemed that in the early seventies the Rolling Stones had rented the suite and one of them had ‘entertained’ a certain famous lady singing artist across the piano to amuse his friends. Unfortunately for the piano he did not take the time to remove his belt first. Nasty things buckles.

He then apologised for the second bedroom which I had yet to see. We looked inside and the whole room had been stripped. Also a new wood floor had been laid over the carpet. This had been done for the next guest who was to arrive late the following day. That guest was Michael Jackson who apparentlydemanded a dance floor in every suite for him to practise his moves. After the manager left I could not resist and did a moon-walk across the floor and scribbled in a corner ‘Hello Michael’underneath a Kilroy sketch.

Finally I got tired of sitting all alone in the vast lounge morosely reading about business travel and decide to have a bath. This was when the suite yielded up its most surreal secret. The room had a 6 foot square bath and everything else was mirrors. Mirrored walls, mirrored tiles and even a mirrored ceiling and it was most disconcerting.

As I sat in the middle of that bath I felt like a sardine in the Pacific All I could see was me. I saw bits of me that I have never seen before and never wish to see again. Where did that mole, that roll of fat, those hairs come from I pondered. In fact I finished washing with my eyes shut. Cleaning my teeth was no better as I got about 18 views of my bum and none of them were flattering.

I went to bed and lay there thinking. What on earth had gone on in that bath and this bed before me? A blooming sight more interesting than a travel agent writing his presentation I thought and a damn sight more successful I suspected. Finally I ordered room service breakfast and went to sleep. When it arrived in the morning the maid told me that she had never brought breakfast for only one and so early to the Maharajah suite before. Oh great I thought, a fantastic record to hold.

Getting back to basics with business travellers

2011-02-09T11:30:00.000Z

How much does the average business traveller know about travel programme management? I would argue strongly that the answer is very little which is a problem. How much does the average travel buyer know about the practicalities of using travel to meet individual traveller’s needs? Again I would argue very little except for their own particular experiences. Is this a healthy state of affairs? No.

It has always vexed me how little time and effort is spent educating, briefing and convincing business travellers of the rationale used when creating a travel policy. How can a company expect their travellers who obviously know their budgetary and practical travel needs better than anyone else to follow a policy that seems diametrically opposed to their objectives. Should they be told simply to do what they are told? Or should they have the company policy fully explained and justified.

I am not talking rocket science here. To start with one could get down to basics. Key travellers and budget holders should be approached and asked to explain any reasons why they have issues with the policy and invited to ask specific questions to illustrate these concerns. This will bring out the usual range of arguments about why certain airlines are used, why prices vary so dramatically and why can they not simply go out and choose the best fare for their own budgetary and travel needs.

These arguments are the underlying reasons why most corporations have significant known (and unknown) travel compliance issues yet very little is done about it. The average company seems keener to go out and negotiate prices with suppliers than undertake possibly more productive internal ‘housekeeping’ through communication and collaboration.

Here are a few basic example answers to basic questions that might provide surprising results if travellers understood why certain things are done that way:

Q: Why do I have to use agent X when if I book direct with an airline or use another agent I might get better?
A: The company as a whole needs a total picture of its spending and location of travellers for safety, security, financial and procurement reasons. Part of our contract with agent X ensures we get all this information and support in order to maintain control and drive improvement. Any bookings made outside the programme are lost to the company and weaken its ability to support the individual and corporate needs of all stakeholders.

Q: Why am I made to use certain airlines and certain fares when I can possibly go out on my own and find something better?
A: When the company negotiates these deals with airlines it looks at the total annual requirement of the group. It agrees fares that will be available throughout the period which represent significant discounts and other benefits. There will be occasions when lower fares will be possible but availability will be strictly limited and restrictions will apply. By going outside the programme and taking these one off individual discounts it will weaken the company’s ability to get greater benefits for all over a longer period resulting in higher cost. The overall benefit to the company of a negotiated deal is far higher than the occasional individual saving
Q: I went to an overseas conference and found other delegates who travelled on the same plane but paid less for their ticket than me. What’s going on!
A: The likelihood in today’s market of any person on a plane paying the same as another is very small unless they were booked together at the same time or booked on a fixed price. Airlines shift their prices constantly linked to time before travel, numbers booked and historic data. For example there is no such thing as a standard price on a low cost airline. That is why it is best to book early when fares are historically cheaper.

Q: Why should I pay fees to agent X? I could do it myself much cheaper.
A: The fee to Agent X is not just for making your booking but for a vast range of services provided by them to you and the company. These include back up, management information, billing, account management and a raft of others. All this is lost to you and the company if you book outside the programme to everyone’s detriment.

These roughly drawn up examples hopefully illustrate the need to communicate with
travellers to explain that the company is not totally mad and has valid reasons for
requiring their compliance. I bet that if you asked your travellers these questions they
would not give the same answers! After all, how can you expect people to do what
you ask when you don’t explain why? Surely a better way than introducing a mandate
and trying to enforce it on an incredulous traveller.

What happens when TMCs become GDS?

2011-01-29T12:11:00.000Z

It must happen to a greater or lesser extent if American Airlines create a model that succeeds and then gets rolled out across the industry. The only way that TMCs will be able to give their customers what they want will be to direct connect with every key supplier and, as such, become mini specialist GDS in their own right. It will cost them a lot in time, resource and money despite what some AA loyalists say and you can bet your bottom dollar they will want it back with interest.

So how will such an event impact the balance of power in the travel supply chain? I think it will affect it significantly. Obviously the GDS will not simply sit back and let it happen and I am sure there is intense discussion and negotiation going on as I write.
However let us just pause for a minute and reflect on the following statements:

1) Despite airlines best efforts the TMC world still has considerable value to their corporate clients and will be hard to dislodge unless they do all the things TMCs do.
2) TMCs have been preparing their own strategies by building their own booking platforms that can be directed to be very specific on what choices they offer.
3) If airlines direct connect to these platforms they may be stepping out of the frying pan and into the fire as far as power balance is concerned.

The GDS are too darn expensive and working with a defunct, unjustifiable pricing model. I think many of us believe that and I can see why airlines are getting sick of paying sector fees even for cancellations and suchlike. The only thing is that GDS have a value to them and this value may be provided by TMCs in future. If you receive a value you can expect it to cost you as the TMCs will not give such distribution capability away for nothing. On top of that they will have their own platforms overlaying it which will allow dynamic pricing and availability control.

My message to airlines is to look at the broader implications of their actions. Remember how some thought GDS were great to own once. And how ownership, encouragement and support of OTAs were expected to reduce not increase cost. Not a great track record so far so look at your next step very carefully!

My Life in Bars – Part 2

2011-01-28T22:19:00.002Z

Picture this. You are a young single guy and you have been sent abroad. Your job is to spend anywhere between 2 and 4 weeks in somebody else’s house and look after their office whilst they are back in the UK on annual leave. Money is not too much of a problem because you inherit their food and entertainment budget for the month in question as well as temporary membership to various sporting and social clubs.

Your usual lifestyle is built around the local pub, your shared flat or bed-sit and any party you can con your way into. You are not the tidiest person in the world and your culinary skills extend to spaghetti on toast. All in all not much use to man nor beast except you get transported to far off places where you have cooks, cleaners and lots of spending money. It was rather like sending a voracious fox into a large hen house full of chickens and saying ‘Behave yourself’. A warning that all too often fell on deaf ears.

I went on quite a few of these assignments and they took a bit of getting used to. Instead of wondering where your next takeaway was coming from you would be sitting in some comparably palatial lounge with a large drink and the smell of cooking food wafting from the kitchen every time the servant came through with a refill. Everything you dropped got picked up and your ashtray was emptied about every 20 minutes. I used to feel quite disorientated. And ultimately bored to tears.

There was only so much splendid isolation one could stand. At least if you were staying in a hotel there were other like minded people about and you might even get lucky and pick up an air hostess. If that failed you could maybe take in a club or hit the residents bar. In your house somewhere in the outskirts all you had was your own company and the nagging thought you could be ruining someone else’s house.

I was in this kind of dilemma on my first relief posting to Nairobi. Fortunately this place came with a car and chauffeur so I decided to spend most of my evenings out.
Nairobi in the early 70s was a pretty wild and potentially dangerous place to be and for all I know it maybe still is. I decided to make a tour of the hotels and see what was going on.

Most airline crews stayed at the Panafric Hotel and that was my first port of call. Sure enough a group of cabin staff were propping up the bar and I attached myself to them.
Terry was their chief and, clearly smelling an expense account, he became my new best pal. I am not sure how it happened but the bar eventually closed and I found me, Terry and another guy called Ken being ushered out the door. Strangely all the hostesses had disappeared and my thoughts of skinny-dipping back at the house pool went with them.

Terry said he knew of a ‘night spot’ across the road which would be lively and we decided to go there. It was called the Starlight Club and I quiver as I remind myself of it even now. The place was frankly sordid and little more than a bordello with a large patio and a frantic band playing insanely in the background. It was a place full of furtive foreigners and friendly girls. A place you would definitely not take your granny to.

Like most Nairobi bars of that kind you had to run the gauntlet to get in. This comprised of a group of ‘dusky maidens’ who would stand either side of the entrance corridor and grab at you vital areas as you walked past. This could be some kind of local ethnic greeting but, as once they grabbed you they wouldn’t let go, I doubted it. Terry, Kevin and I were forewarned so we had already pushed some ’borrowed’ hotel menus down the front of our trousers. By the time we got inside they were like origami.

Once inside it went further downhill. It was a wall of sweat, smell and sound. Full of svelte gyrating women and balding clumsy men in loud shirts and louder voices. Maybe a quiet night in was not such a bad thing I thought as I paid a small fortune for three Tusker beers while fending off two of the door-keepers who had followed us to our table. One of them disappeared under it and Ken started shifting guiltily and uncomfortably in his seat. “What is going on under there” I demanded? Can’t say” said Ken “But I’m frightened to move”.

That was it for me and I got up to leave. Another girl threw herself at me but got intercepted by door keeper number two who said she was my girl. An enormous fight started between the two of them with wigs and bits of clothing flying everywhere. I fled while everyone watched them, except for Ken who was still sitting bolt upright with a bemused look on his face. I need to find new friends and a new bar I thought.

I eventually found a new bar to spend my evenings in. It was called The Sombrero club and the only difference to The Starlight was once they knew you and you got chummy with the owner/barman they would leave you alone. Many the evening I sat talking to Moses (the barman) and watching these incredible events going on around me.

I came unstuck at the end of my stay. Our regional director came to Nairobi to do a spot check on our operation. He was staying at the Norfolk Hotel just a short distance from The Sombrero. When evening came he said he wanted to go out for a drink and suggested trying “that bar down the road”. I said that although I had never ever been there I had heard it was a really dangerous and rude place. He could not be dissuaded so off we went.

Needless to say he got the ethnic Nairobi handshake at the door…at least four times. “Ah Mikey” one of the girls said but I ignored her. By the time we got to the bar I had two more “Hi Mikeys”, two hugs and a kiss. I shielded my boss as best I could so he could get a bar stool and before I could order Moses leaned over and said “Hi Mikey. You are late tonight. You want your usual”?

“Never been here before Michael” my new boss probed? Maybe once or twice I admitted. “We expect our relief staff to be perfect ambassadors for the company so we will need to talk more of this tomorrow” he said. He kept me waiting all the next day.

“We will go back there tonight” he said as we closed the office. “OK “I replied “but may I suggest you pick up a hotel menu before you come?”

Better to never have something than see it taken away?

2011-01-27T11:52:00.001Z

I wrote a few comments in my blog not that long ago about corporate entertaining. I tried to both entertain and inform but there was one particular argument I tried to put across. It was ‘never give someone something and then take it away’ i.e. once you invite someone somewhere regularly and then stop the reaction is worse than the initial benefit. This is exactly what is going on in travel at the moment but in a much broader sense.

Have you wondered why ‘low cost’ airlines like Ryanair manage to sell tickets much cheaper than say British Airways? Simple you might say, Ryanair is much more restrictive in timetable, booking conditions, departure airports etc. Plus they do not have the enormous cost infrastructure the big global giants have. Of course you would be right but it is far more than that, which brings me back to my entertaining analogy.

Nobody gets anything from a low cost carrier unless they pay for it. They never have and never will. What you get is a low cost and a menu of add on prices for everything from bags to card payment to seat reservations. That is the key reason for the low lead price and they absolutely depend on income from ancillary costs.

The big airlines are the complete opposite to this. Their prices are historically all inclusive but now they have to change rapidly to stem the flow of lost revenue to their new ‘low cost’ competition. So what do they do? They start looking at every distribution cost they incur and try to eradicate them. Things like free card usage, credit periods, use of agents and access to special fares. They will in fact ultimately end up pretty close to becoming low cost carriers themselves which is, to me, as worrying as it is welcome, in fact more so.

So the national airlines are starting to take away things they used to give away. Well actually they never gave them away. Instead they built the costs into those high prices they cannot compete with these days. As I implied in my heading, taking away something people are used to breeds discontent and intransigents. Pity the poor big airline, they are getting attacked for taking things away that their low cost competition never gave in the first place and get kudos for not doing so!

The travel world can be a cruel place sometimes. You only have to have a look at what is going on between all the supply chain intermediaries as the pain of this particular change is going on. Have a quick look at the rest of this blog if you want to see what I mean.

The Evolution of Air Distribution – The Story so Far

2011-01-23T13:41:00.002Z

Now you are going to need to bear with me on this. Blogs are supposed to be brief and incisive but this one won’t. I just think that perhaps too many people assume that everyone knows about air distribution history and, by extension, fully understands the dynamics in play. I am not sure this is the case (why should they) so here is my understanding of how we got to where we are now.

It would take a book not a blog to go into the full detail and rationale so I will content myself and your patience by picking out the key players and change milestones in what will be a summary of what has happened and who are the movers and shakers. I think the customer needs to know the basics especially as they are ultimately paying unless they can do without at least one of the current cogs in the distribution mechanism.

Initially there was not much of an issue. The airlines worked in concert with each other and their supply chain and basically paid for everything required to distribute their product. They paid merchant fees to card companies, commission to agents (no such things as TMCs then) and fees to the GDS. Having picked up all these tabs they then sold their tickets with these costs built in to their fares. All of them did it so there was no problem Simple and reasonably effective in a well regulated, stable and growing travel market where little true competition existed.
As an example (and it varies hugely by area) airlines paid agents 10% commision and between 3 to 30% override, 1.5-3% card fees and 4% to 6% GDS charges.All of that bundled into the end ticket price.

Then things changed. Airlines expanded their route structures and became far more competitive with each other. The first sign of change was when ticket prices started to diversifyfrom airline to airline. In order to attract increasingly fickle travellers a fare differentiation was required. Carriers moved away from simply discounting their standardised global gross fare pricing and introduced corporate nets, yield managed specials and additional one-off deals.In one class alone you could end up with over a dozen fares each with their own restrictions and availability allocations.

The result was twofold. Firstly the ability to interchange tickets between airlines disappeared and secondly the need to mitigate pricing concessions made them look harder at their costs. Their distribution costs to be precise.

They found themselves in a real dilemma. The need to compete and discount was obviously threatening their profits (what there were) and simultaneously two other things happened. Low cost carriers with a totally different price model arrived who had to worry far less about convenience, timetables, airport locations and service which in turn encouraged corporations to view travel in a far more commoditised way. So, on one side they had to compete with carriers with a considerably lower cost base/tariff and on the other, a customer with a much harder stance towards price.

What became clear was that they could not continue paying the full cost of distributing their products whilst competing with new entrant pricing combined with more savvy buyers.Something had to give and what ‘gave’ was the air distribution model. After all, if you cannot beat the no frills airlines and professional buyers then the only option was to join them and challenge elsewhere in the travel merry-go- round.

I think their objectives were a mixture between the sound and the inevitable. The markets had clearly changed and if the end customer really wanted transparency and a lower cost model then give it to them. Whether they really wanted or needed it in the first place is a discussion for another day. Many of the arguments today are revolving around the desire for commoditisation coming head to head with the necessity for flexibility and uniformity of information and access.

There is another key influencing factor which is technology. Part of the reason why the main airlines feel both desirous and capable of change is that, for the first time there are other potential technology solutions out there. That is to say they are there if, and only if, the end users really do expect them to act individually rather than collectively with other provider’s inventory. Hence the current pressures on the GDS who provide all encompassing booking services and charge a high price for doing so. There is no way any individual airline can provide the diversity and product span that a GDS does.

The airlines (individually and at varying speeds) have called time on paying full distribution costs for all services to all customers. Unfortunately I do not see their goal as eradicating such costs. Their objective is to find what they see is the right home for these costs and then try to ensure the savings are not taken away by having to reduce prices to compensate the travellers, who will undoubtedly have to pay. Unless as I mentioned earlier a cog taken out of the distribution wheel. but which one?

So are there any expendable cogs? In some sectors of the market then probably yes. However, only if people recognise what they want and are prepared to accept the consequences and constraints of such. I think the line will be drawn between those corporations that want a controlled, managed and reported programme and others that choose a more deregulated approach where cheapest flights and few management ‘frills’ are acceptable.

If you want travel management you need knowledge and control. In order to do this you need someone to consolidate travel in all forms and package it into controllable chunks from as few sources as possible. At present this is best done through a GDS booking system, a travel management company and a mandated card programme. You take overall control of your travel, accept the price of doing so and form the right balance between value and all the other broader elements that complement your company ethos. Does anybody with a travel programme really want to run around numerous individual online airline sites and compare them when a GDS already does that in a one-stop environment?

On the other side if you want to maximise trip by trip savings there is no reason why approaching the cheapest distribution source and exploiting it until another one comes along is not the right way. To be frank the cheapest booking cost would be by going to an airline direct either independantly or through a TMC which is why carriers like American Airlines, Lufthansa etc are differentiating pricing and availability dependant on where the booking comes from. It does not by any means guarantee that overall trip price will be lower but the reservations element may be.

What I am begining to see happening is that airlines are finally differentiating between varying corporate needs and handling them individually. This part I applaud even though it has taken a long time and has a way to go. They are beginning to see the contrast between travel management and the very different service provided through Online Booking Agencies (OTAs) which, despite all the hype, focus on a different and smaller market that has a different list of demmands. It is this SME market and the OTAs that service them that are taking the brunt of current airline initiatives. The rest will follow.

Before I conclude let me set out the distribution milestones again as I see them:

1) Airlines have mainly eradicated standard agency commission payments but have failed to stop override and incentive payments. Whilst not totally successful it has enabled them to target better those they want to reward to a greater and more productive effect.
2) Agents responded by passing their new costs to the corporations by changing their contracts to management/transaction fees. End result? Most agencies protected their income and some grew it by ensuring remaining income from the airlines stayed with them and not passed on within their client deals. Airlines were forced to reduce prices to compensate customers.
3) GDS/Airline negotiations became far more aggressive. When you look at what airlines have to pay them, even for passenger cancellations and suchlike it is hardly surprising. Some airlines started charging TMCs for certain bookings to gain compensation. TMCs passed these costs on to the corporations but are still incentivised by GDSs which make airlines pretty mad as it is their fees that are funding them.
4) Various airlines changed some of the remaining IATA regulations regarding payment to shorten credit terms with TMCs and escalate penalties for perceived non compliance. A very much hidden cost that again the customer ended up collecting.I find it quite alarming how much cost comes into the chain via IATA and its interpretation of their own rules.
5) Credit/charge card usage has increased because of 4) as individual countries cut agency credit by 50% or more meaning TMC passed on the casflow deterioration to customers resulting in this migration to plastic . Ironic really as this area is very much a top target for airline cost reduction. Cards, like GDS charge wide and varying merchant fees to suppliers and these will be attacked robustly and very soon.

Where will this evolution take us? Airlines will continue fighting distribution costs. Instead of taking them all and then charging travellers through price they will try to dump them and leave the customer to pay separately. Meanwhile they will compensate by offering lower cost alternatives to those prepared to book direct. The battlefronts will be GDS fees, credit card merchant fees, cost of credit, TMC incentives and service deliverables. The customer will get what they say they want which is transparency and a unit price for everything. Currently I do not believe actual cost will go down. It will simply be realigned and will probably go up. If prices go down any further then there will be less suppliers, less choice and devolution not evolution.

It does not make sense that suppliers should pay for everything and then charge a correspondingly high price. Equally it does not make sense that the traveller gets all the bills and tries to negotiate their way out of them. I expect it is the way of the world and will provide yet newer business opportunities but regrettably the same old regurgitating costs.

My life in bars – Part 1

2011-01-19T17:01:00.000Z

I sat in the bath last Saturday night trying to soak away the pain and bruising caused by my latest stroke of bad luck in a bar when it suddenly dawned on me how many times I have ad unfortunate experiences in such places. Obviously none of these ‘experiences’ had been my fault. I just seem to have the knack of being in the wrong bar at the wrong time and getting into bizarre circumstances.

Take last weekend for example. I was in a hotel bar with a few friends enjoying some old memories when one of them reminded me of my favourite Superman joke from years gone by. Now the whole point of this joke is that you have to tell it whilst doing impressions of the super-hero and, after alarmingly little encouragement I said I would tell it again for old time’s sake.

The first thing I had to do was dress the part so off I went to the toilet and came back wearing my underpants outside my trousers, a borrowed tablecloth stuffed out my collar to make a cape and the letter S drawn on my shirt with lipstick. By this time I had drawn the attention of the rest of the residents and particularly the bar manager who looked on with growing concern. To the encouragement of my friends I literally threw myself into the role.

The joke explains how Superman and Batman were in a similar bar having a drink after a hard day’s crime fighting. Superman was telling how he had saved a child from a giant shark, the world from annihilation and finally had an incredible experience with Cat Woman. I told the joke in words and movement and somehow managed to stay upright despite leaping and lunging all over the place. Did I tell you it helps to be drunk to enjoy this joke?

Anyway, the end of the ‘joke’ is when he was on the way to the bar and saw Cat Woman. She was lying naked on the roof of a building making mewling noises and swaying her hips in a provocative fashion. Poor old Superman could not resist so he flew down and engaged her in frantic and passionate love-making. All was going well and I think I was simulating it all quite adequately until it came to the punch line.

Batman turns to Superman and says “Gee Superman, I bet she was surprised”. To which Superman replies “Not half as surprised as the Invisible Man”

At that point I jumped in the air…and went through the coffee table I had been standing on. This brought this sorry tale to a sudden and bloody end. Actually it took a while to separate my leg from the table but straight after that I was escorted to my room. At least they laughed at my joke I thought, but, if truth were known it was me crashing through the table that people thought both funny and just!

A Blogger in Paradise - Maldives

2011-01-19T16:59:00.000Z

I went on holiday in The Maldives last month and such a great time that I thought I would report on how to get there from the UK. and what to expect. I have now stayed at Cocoa Island, Mirihi, Conrad Rangali and Lily Beach so if anyone wants the lowdown on any of these places let me know.

I usually try to inject some humour in these blogs and I did have a few moments of amusement while out there. The last island I stayed at was Lily Beach which is an all inclusive resort and hence it could be a bit lively in the evening. I was minding my own business in the bar one night when this very large gentleman from Frankfurt sat down next to me. Actually he plunged more than sat and the contents of his scotch glass flew over his shoulder into a plant pot.

Not to be outdone he lurched off the seat, went to the bar for another, staggered back, aimed his bottom at the seat and plunged down again. Another double scotch shot over his shoulder into the pot. I think he lost about four out of five of his whiskies until, on his final plunge he too shot back into the plant pot. The next morning on the way to breakfast I stopped at the plant pot. The palm growing out of it had snapped and the leaves had turned yellow.

The only other excitement of note was when a Korean couple ran their pedalo aground on the island reef. They did not seem too worried as they started taking pictures of each other being rescued. And of course there was a lady from London who threatened to report me because I killed an ant that was walking up the side of my Tiger beer!

Anyway, back to my report:

So what is your idea of a holiday paradise and more importantly, does it exist outside your imagination in this modern well travelled world? You may want somewhere sunny and warm. A desert island, but not too deserted and not so primitive you cannot enjoy your creature comforts. You will want to be safe, relaxed and be lazy or active as and when the mood takes you. To enjoy nature at its most spectacular but still sleep in clean white sheets listening to the water lapping around and wondering if should have eaten so much lobster at the moonlit barbecue.

Well this year I lived my dream. I found the Maldives. Obviously I had heard of them before but I never once thought they could possibly be as good as the hype. 40 years in travel had taught me that you can never totally believe the brochures, websites and superlatives from other people each with their individual ideas on perfection. Besides, I thought, the Maldives were hard to get to and so very far from civilisation. So let me tell you how an old travel hand got it wrong.

Firstly I discovered that British Airways had started flying non stop to Male, the capital. You can also go direct on a Thomson charter or using a through flight via Colombo on Srilankan. If you are willing to change aircraft there are excellent connections via Dubai or Doha on Emirates or Qatar Airways respectively. These connections are very slick and usually quite painless. Some people even split their holidays with a week in Dubai and then again in the Maldives. I chose direct with BA as I got a good price and a non stop flight is more likely to get you there quickly and with your baggage.

The next obstacle in my mind was getting to my chosen island. You see the international flight lands at an airport island next to the capital Male and you still need to go either by air or speedboat to your resort. Trouble and stress I immediately thought. Wrong. They operate like a well oiled machine. As soon as you pass through customs the resort team is waiting. You either walk across the road to a waiting speed launch or onto an air-conditioned bus to whisk you and your bags to the seaplane terminal 5 minutes away.

This final short transit transforms from a chore to a plus point of the holiday. Your sea plane is usually waiting there for you. If there is any delay then most of the resorts have lounges that look over the lagoon where you can watch the coming and going. The planes are loads of fun. Yes, they are a bit noisy and yes they can sometimes get a bit hot but this is more than made up for by the thrill of take off and landing and the breathtaking views of the coral atolls you fly over. A magical experience and one to be anticipated not dreaded.

One thing to remember though is that the weight allowance on these planes is 20 kilos regardless of what you may have been allowed on your incoming international flight. Excess baggage charges are quite reasonable but bear in mind there are aircraft weight constraints which might mean they could hold a bag back for the next flight. It is always a good thing to have one bag which you keep close containing immediate essentials just in case.

The longest flight is usually around 40 minutes but more often under the half hour. You land on the sheltered side of the resort and the seaplane taxis up to a floating pontoon. From there you board the resort launch for the very short hop to the reception pier. Usually by this time you would have been given iced towels and bottled water and an enthusiastic greeting from the local staff. And yes, they really do seem to mean it as these are small islands and I think they genuinely look forward to seeing new faces.

There are numerous resorts with all types of accommodation and meal plans. You can stay in beach villas or my favourite which are built over water on stilts. Some are basic but clean and others have their own spa, pool and decking. The food and drink has to be imported (as do the chefs) and is of the highest quality and range. Most ingredients are from Australia except for the fish which is mainly locally caught using traditional methods.

So there you are, sitting on your decking and gazing out at your very own picture postcard Desert Island and aquarium but with everything you need available if you want it. Everywhere I went my mobile, blackberry and computer worked if I wanted them. I once phoned into a company conference call when sitting on a lounger under a sun umbrella with a cold beer and a staff member next to me cleaning my sun glasses! By now you have ditched your shoes and probably not wear any again until you leave.

The Maldives is a wonderful place and it did not disappoint me once. It is safe, welcoming scenically stunning and full of warm spirited friendly people. My only regret was going home. If you ever want a once in a lifetime trip go to the Maldives…except I suspect you will try to go again and again afterwards. Once you have swum with whale sharks and manta rays you become hooked!

Children behaving badly – Unmins

2011-01-09T13:00:00.002Z

What is an Unmin? It is short for Unaccompanied Minor which is an airline term for children travelling on aircraft alone. In the vast majority of cases they are schoolchildren travelling too or from their parents’ overseas posting during holiday times. Frankly they can be an absolute pain in the butt. I should know. I was one.

These kids are handed over at the airport to an airline employee (often known as an ‘Auntie’) whose job it is to escort them to their final destination. Each child is supposed to wear a neck ribbon with a plastic pouch containing their documentation and identifying them as ‘young travellers’. If I recall my documents went in my back pocket and the pouch got flushed down the first toilet. Perhaps this is why so many airport toilets get blocked?

Actually you might be amazed by what gets flushed down airport toilets especially the one just before customs. I have seen everything from drugs to diapers and once a cardboard box of dried Nigerian fish. The most interesting thing I saw was a man taking one small suitcase and putting it into a second larger one. He then went to the baggage handling desk and reported the small case as missing whilst stating it was full of valuable designer clothes! Anyway, I digress, back to the Unmins.

As an airline manager based in Africa it was partly my job to manage these thrice yearly migrations, especially as I knew most of the parents in the region. I felt responsible for getting little Katie or Josh back to the bosom of their family although frankly I think the last person they needed or wanted to see was me. I think they felt I cramped their style somewhat especially as, with my childhood experiences, I knew all their tricks.

The girls were probably the worst. They would arrive at the airport all demure in their school uniforms and behave like butter would not melt in their mouths. Until they got on the plane that is. Immediately the seat belt light went off they would dash to the toilet where they created a long slow moving queue. Woe betides any aging gentleman traveller with a weak bladder because relief would be a long time coming.

What came out was not what went in. The plain little uniformed schoolgirl had transformed into an excellently made up woman in tight fashionable clothes that walked up the cabin aisle like it was a catwalk and then ordered a large gin. It all became very confusing and I once outraged a young woman from Barclays Bank by insisting she took her tarty clothes off and got back into her uniform!

The worst time was night flights. They used to party hard especially when the smuggled alcohol came out. I once caught two kids ‘at it’ under a blanket until I poured the contents of an ice bucket over them before things went too far. Another budding entrepreneur was charging boys $1 a feel. One irate passenger complained to me that the two children in front of him were drunk and rowdy. He said he was someone senior in giant oil company and there would be consequences. I did not have the heart to tell him the two kids were sons of his Chief Executive.

These Unmins did have their uses as some savvy passengers began to discover. They travelled the same routes all the time and knew the aircraft and any transit stops backwards. If you followed them you found all the short cuts, best bars and cheapest duty free sales and could save time and money. It was uncanny the way they knew which immigration queue was going to move fastest.

It was a relief to get to our destination. Women used to rush to the toilet and come out girls again. Strong mints were chewed to hide the smell of alcohol on breath and those ghastly pouches were placed over necks. They would walk off the plane like angels and choirboys. Occasionally we would have to grab one who tried to wander off and I once had to stop a lad skateboarding down the taxiway at Lusaka after a Boeing 737.

Everyone used to breathe a sigh of relief. Until it was time for them to go back to school that is!

What does a hotel brand really mean?

2011-01-08T21:14:00.002Z

Does that seem a weird question? Probably so but what I am trying to say is, does the logo over the door actually mean, or importantly guarantee anything? Is it saying ‘This is a Hilton, Holiday Inn, Four Seasons or whatever and this means you should expect and get what that brand markets?

This question is borne from spending many years trying to truly understand and make sense of the hospitality industry. It is a vital sector yet commentators and industry bodies barely notice it when compared to say airlines. What does make it so very different? And why should anyone need to care?

I think the difference is ownership hence my original question. You see there are quite a few different ownership scenarios within a single brand. Because a hotel displays say Hilton over the door does not mean it is owned by Hilton. Very often it is owned by someone completely different but Hilton has the management or marketing contract to run it and is employed by the owner to deliver an agreed profit. They are an employee of the owner and have to act accordingly.

So what I am saying is that if you negotiate with a hotel chain you may not be speaking to someone who has absolute control over policy, inventory or pricing with all their properties. Hence you can find yourself in a position where various properties opt out of some commercial agreements which are good for the whole family but not for them. It is a bit like a global TMC who has to sacrifice profit in one location to deliver a good deal in other countries. Most TMCs have had to come to terms with this but I do not think hotels have.

The issue becomes even more convoluted when you are dealing with hotel consortiums. These are mainly pure marketing organisations where hotels (of a certain comparable quality) link their properties to an umbrella brand in order to take on the big boys and achieve global coverage. Again, this does not mean that such consortiums can tell these hotels what to do as far as pricing and inventory is concerned.

Probably still the most influential person in any hotel is its General Manage who can, and do, instruct their reservations office to close out heavily discounted negotiated corporate rates if they think they can sell for more. Even worse for the bigger corporations is when their travellers tell them that the hotel ‘price at the door’ is cheaper than that negotiated by their procurement department. Sounds familiar?

Another side effect of confused and disparate ownership is the woeful lack of management information you get fro the hotel industry. The only really useful thing IATA does for airlines is it provides a standardised language and reporting base that is essential for meaningful information. Hotels do not have this type of global format hence they all do things in different ways. You really would be shocked by how little they know about their customers and what they spend.

So what am I trying to say? I am advising all buyers to find out exactly what control/ownership of key properties a chain or consortium has. Maybe you should insist on key contract clauses like last room availability and lowest price on the day. Perhaps require countersignature by the GMs of the main hotels confirming they understand and support the contract. Finally, why not think of ways to make your oh so wise travellers become willing watchdogs by actively encouraging them to test the system. You know how they love it so!

By the way, I have mentioned a few hotel brands in this post. This has been purely for general illustrative purposes only and does not imply that I was refering directly to them.

Passengers Behaving badly – Concorde

2011-01-04T16:51:00.001Z

I really have been a very lucky man in that I have flown Concorde at least a dozen times. During those flights I encountered many strange and downright surreal moments but none that had the same impact as one flight from Barbados to London.

We were coming towards the end of a two week holiday when the phone call came. It was BA and they asked us if we would possibly mind flying back two days early as one of their jumbos had technical problems creating an enormous backlog of passengers needing to get home. They had decided to offer ‘selected’ travellers the chance of returning earlier using spare seats on their daily Concorde service.

My wife Judith was not amused by the proposed shortening of our holiday but Anna (our daughter) rightly realised that this might be the one chance in her lifetime to fly on this beautiful aircraft so we agreed. Our decision was also helped by the fact we were on agent discount tickets which meant it was practically certain we would be the first to be chucked off our booked flight anyway!

Having decided to make the most of it we arrived at Bridgetown airport in plenty of time to enjoy the lounge and board the flight. At the risk of sounding snobbish we could not believe the state of the people in the departure lounge who were presumably waiting for a charter flight. They were noisy and mainly drunk with numerous wild kids that were left to run amok throughout the building. It was one of those groups you sometimes see and thank your lucky stars they were someone else’s problem. We retreated to the first class lounge and hid until our flight was called.

Finally they announced boarding and off we went to the aircraft. The place was still bedlam as the rampaging hordes had been tanking up on duty free spirits but we got through most of them by the time we found our gate. We stopped and waited but felt more and more uneasy as the near rioting holiday makers started lining up behind us. We then realised that these folk had received the same phone call from BA and were coming with us. It seems the only folk prepared to give up a day or two of their holidays were those on the cheapest packages and agency/airline staff.

The looks on the cabin crews faces was a picture. There was Concorde, the ultra first class flagship of the BA fleet. The aircraft of choice of film stars, diplomats, and captains of industry. And it was filling up with drunks, delinquents and rapacious souvenir hunters that were totally committed to wringing every last benefit of their once in a lifetime trip.

We roared off into the sky and the fun started almost immediately. Practically every stewardess call button was pressed simultaneously and all you could hear above the engines was the staccato calls of drinks orders and the yells from children as they ran up and down the aisle. One of the stewardesses started crying saying she had been groped and the bonafide Concorde passengers squeezed themselves as far forward as possible abandoning two thirds of the aircraft to the mob. There they were being taunted by a bear of a man with a huge stomach and a torso decorated by tattoos and a string vest with no armpits. He was waving a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne by the neck whilst demanding they sing with him.

The next parts of the plane to be hit were the toilets. Some small child started a trend by graffitiing the walls with rude drawings and badly spelt words . He had a huge imagination. They and the rest of the cabin were stripped of anything that was not firmly attached including some seat upholstery and life jackets. It was an absolute nightmare that was only slightly relieved when the captain threatened to have them all arrested on arrival. It was something I have never witnessed before or since but I found out afterwards that they were not a random crowd but in fact a large wedding group returning home. No wonder they all looked like each other and gelled so well! I understand the aircraft had to be taken out of service after for a few days.

My other trips on Concorde were far less eventful. The only thing I particularly noticed was the slightly inquisitive and smug way passengers used to look at each other. Almost like a very exclusive mainly new money club. I did have one more funny moment when I was waiting outside one of the small toilets. They really were tiny and I could hear someone manoeuvring clumsily inside. Finally the door opened and a man came out. I was halfway in when I noticed there was a woman still in there arranging her clothes. I had heard of the ‘mile high’ club before but not the ‘stratosphere’ version.

It was a wonderful aircraft and I wish it was still flying

Direct Connect – The first significant skirmish in a long campaign.

2011-01-03T16:05:00.002Z

Christmas is supposed to be a time of peace and goodwill to all men but it also heralds the onset of a new year and, in turn, leads to encouragement of change. This can be illustrated by American Airlines who gave TMCs and their clients an early Christmas present of new cost and selected online agencies (OTAs) in particular to feel their power. The OTAs have started to respond with Expedia pulling American from their inventory. Obviously a lot more complex than that but you got the drift?

Immediately both sides are claiming victory. AA say their volume is growing and Expedia say they are not losing business. Meanwhile the travel world looks on at this test case. People really want to see if an OTA (or any TMC for that matter) can successfully move business or if airlines really can call all the shots. Whoever is perceived as the winner may set a radical trend in the industry and possibly change it considerably. Certainly if AA succeeds then many will follow after them

The trouble is that in reality this test of strength will prove very little in the business travel arena. Reason being that companies like Expedia hold only a pin prick of the worlds corporate travel market and the little they have is mainly towards the lower end in company size terms. In my personal opinion what American has done is picked a soft target to start with. The giant TMCs with their giant corporate accounts would be a different matter altogether. A smaller entity with a different client-base and business model is much easier quarry but one which they can get much tactical mileage from.

For instance how can anyone state at this very early stage that they are wining this argument? American says they grew in December. Big deal. This cannot be zeroed down to success in this issue. Growth compared to what? Has not economic recovery got more to do with it? How much of American’s corporate market share is Expedia anyway? Yet they sagely point to some meaningless figures.

I do not think there will be any winner in this but I can say with a fair degree of certainty that the argument is a precursor to major industry change. Is that so bad? Probably not but with all change there is pain attached. Pain moves around the supply chain as quickly as cost and usually goes full circle. The airline will add cost and work to the TMC, The TMC will go to their clients, increase their charges and tell them why. The big corporate will go to the airlines and mitigate their increased cost by demanding compensation through their deal. The model has changed. But has it really and to whose benefit?

Like everyone else I will watch with interest and try to read between the lines to see where this will take us. As for the forthcoming figures and rhetoric? I will take them all with a pinch of salt and suggest you do the same.

Blog Update

2010-12-28T15:11:00.004Z

I was sitting here nursing my bloated Christmas stomach and regretting that final glass of Port last night and I started to wonder if there is anything I could do to improve my blog.
I am pleased as punch to have recieved over 2000 page views from all over the world but I got to think that I might be confusing too many people by trying to inject humorous memoires alongside serious industry comment.
As a result I have introduced two new blog sites to cover each story type. These can be found on:
http://travelprotales.blogspot.com/
and
http://businesstravelcomment.blogspot.com/
If you would like to read both types I am continuing with this address which will still feature everything I produce.

Thanks so much for reading and PLEASE tell me if there is anything you would like me to pontificate about. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A secure life Abroad 2 - Zambia

2010-12-27T15:26:00.000Z

Zambia was my main overseas posting and I stayed there for 2 years. It was around 1973 which was the time when the battle for independence was in full swing in neighbouring Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). That did not bother me much as I was posted to the Zambian ‘city’ of Kitwe up on the Copper Belt and a long way from the border conflict. Or so I thought.

What I failed to grasp was that although the actual fighting was taking place in the south the fighters themselves had many reserve and base camps around Kitwe. This meant that not only did residents have to cope with the numerous local gangsters but also raw army recruits who had no money or food but plenty of assault rifles and grenades. Unfortunately it was not rare to see troops selling Kalashnikovs to the local bad guys for money and food thus increasing their dangerousness by 1000%

We looked after ourselves as best we could. Most houses had razor wire around their gardens, barred windows, alarms and fierce dogs. We had our fierce cat called Sooty which I told you about in an earlier story. At least he had hospitalised the next door Dobermans once which was a pretty good reference!

People also hired night security cards from a local company to patrol their perimeters until dawn. These guys were supposed to be there as protection and to scare off intruders but in actuality they spent most of the time asleep. Unlike the murderous guard I had in Ghana these people were mainly weak, hungry and very poor and, in some ways, I could understand why they were not willing to risk their lives for a bunch of wealthy Europeans. I used to recognise this so I paid mine extra, gave them food and said that all I wanted was for them to scream a warning before running. That and to stay awake and not smoke the local drug called Dagga.

The security company recognised the problem of guards sleeping on the job and they employed supervisors to cycle around the neighbourhood tinkling their bells and calling ‘guard’ until they got an answer. More often than not they used to get no reply so the volume kept on increasing until they were shrieking ‘GUARD! GUARD!’ at the top of their voices. By this time everybody in the house was awake…except the guard.

Our most regular guard was called Greatson. He was a little better than the rest so I ended up pampering him quite a lot. It got to the point that I would play his favourite ABBA record every night. He used to lean back on his patio guard chair until his head half entered the lounge window and join in with a baritone drone. I also gave him a case load of my dad’s old clothes and told him to help himself.
Unfortunately the better I treated him the more complacent he got and the less reliable. Things came to a head when he turned up one evening drunk and dressed in an old silk smoking jacket/dressing gown which he had found in the case of cloths. He flopped in his chair looking like Noel Coward on a bad day and started singing Chiqitita from ABBA’s greatest hits. I went to bed in disgust.

About 2 in the morning I was woken from an uneasy sleep. As I regained consciousness I started to hear tinkling of bells, loud shouts of GUARD, GUARD and the loudest snoring possible. Clearly Greatson was out cold and his employer had lost patience. The next thing I knew a stone crashed through the bedroom window. It had come from the security supervisor and been aimed at Greatson but missed him by yards.

‘That’s it’ I cried and stormed outside to confront Noel Greatson Coward who was tucked up in his dressing gown smiling angelically in his sleep. I shook him again and again with no success. He is not going to beat me I thought. This man is going to wake up the hard way I thought and I picked him up. I held him for a moment in my arms and was about to drop him on the patio when he started nuzzling his head up against my neck still with that daft smile on his face.

No, I decided, the patio is too good for you my friend, and I carried him around to the swimming pool. It was well illuminated by the security lights and I lurched to the edge of the deep end. I dropped him. Well actually not dropped, more stumbled. We both went over and crashed into the water. Greatson woke up when he was about 3 feet under. His eyes dilated and his mouth opened discharging a large bubble of water. My face which was about 2 inches from his was being held in a panicked and vice like grip.

With a little bit of help we finally managed to get out. We looked sorry figures. Him in his soggy smoking jacket and me in my now transparent pyjamas. Greatson kept saying he had not been sleeping. ‘I was resting my eyes Bwana’ he said. Yes, and ears and senses I thought. His supervisor who had managed to climb over the garden gate to help pull us out started hitting him over the head with a stick and it took 10 minutes to throw them both out.

I heard they had sacked Greatson and I was very sorry. After all he had only let us down once and I felt responsible for him being thrown back on the streets. A couple of weeks later I went a nearby friend’s house for dinner. It was a great evening and we sat in his lounge drinking brandy and listening to the African night sounds. Suddenly I could hear some faint deep singing from around the corner. Someone was singing ‘Super Trooper’ by ABBA. I peeped around the corner and yes, it was Greatson reclining in his new security guard uniform and smoking something suspicious!

Loyalty Cards – What value?

2010-12-23T14:23:00.000Z

There have been a growing number of reports recently about airlines reducing the number of ‘ex gratia’ cards negotiable within corporate agreements and I have no doubt whatsoever this will increase in future. There are a few possible reasons for this trend.

These cards started as a way of keeping the loyalty of regular travellers by giving a range of benefits from comfortable lounges and ‘free’ flights to priority for upgrades. They became a major instrument for wooing business people away from their competition, and possibly company policy by making the travellers feel special in a rapidly comoditising market.

Some corporations hated them and went to great lengths to try and cancel out their allure. A few tried with little success to confiscate the travel element (miles) for company use. Others took a different view and used the attraction of these loyalty clubs to underline and support the use of their chosen policy carrier. It was then that such awards became a significant beneficial component within corporate deal negotiations.

So all of a sudden airline loyalty clubs became valuable to corporates and a tool to sweeten a change in policy. This whole change thing became a great deal easier if you were able to hand out membership cards with substantial benefits to key travellers. As important were the top tier cards which appealed to status conscious senior executives. These Platinum/Black/Premier cards were usually allocated in very small numbers and linked to the company’s volume potential. Often you would see joint CEOs scrapping like alley cats as to who should get ‘The Card’ and TMCs being pestered to broker more of them.

Much of the above still happens now but the mood of the airlines is changing for a number of key reasons. Firstly the number of cards at high status (gold etc) has grown alarmingly causing lounges to become too full for comfort. The cost of these lounges and other benefits has risen correspondingly whilst their exclusivity has declined. I have been in some lounges which are busier and noisier than the seats outside them.
Equally there are fewer seats available for purchase with loyalty points which can cause problems.

The airlines in their quest to reduce distribution costs are now looking very closely at the value, and importantly, the cost of these schemes. They have gone from seeing these clubs as less of a marketing ploy and more of an out of control overhead. As a result they have identified the value and put a budget cost against it. This means that every time an airline salesman gives a card their budget gets debited accordingly. They now have to manage this cost in the same way that they do discount pricing and other overheads.

This state of affairs has reduced the number of cards being awarded within deals. Incidentally the same thing works within the airlines themselves. Senior airline management are having their own travel cards downgraded too and they are probably just as aggrieved as the corporate buyer. The problem is that if you take something away from someone it has at least twice the effect as giving it to them in the first place. What you never have you never miss!

I guess what everybody will have to realise is that if you drive mainstream airlines to behave like, and compete with low cost carriers you will see the continuing decline in such ‘luxuries’. Also, if you manage to finally be successful in mandating policy to your travellers then the need for such loyalty inducements disappear anyway.

A Christmas Tale of Travel Distribution – 2

2010-12-20T13:12:00.005Z

Cast of Characters:

Air Schizophrenia Services (ASS Air) – A major airline from Never Never Land.
Pass it on Travel (Past Travel) - A neurotic TMC who misses the old days
Scrooge Global Inc (Scroogey Inc) - A global corporation that hates travel budgets
Vera Merchant Fee ( VeraCard) - A credit/charge card that does not add up
Online Travel Agency (Ollie OTA) – Illegitimate love child of Air Schizophrenia.
IATAmania (Colin Cartel) - An airline association that interprets
the rules as they go along.

Globally Dysfunctional (Gordon GDS) – A misunderstood much maligned cog in
the Distribution wheel who nobody wants to pay

(Again, a work of absolute fiction and all the characters are simply a result of my overactive imagination)

It was a quiet peaceful Christmas Eve. It was mainly quiet because half a teaspoonful of snow had landed on the tarmac at London Heathrow causing the entire airport and access road infrastructure to go into meltdown and stop completely.

ASS Air barricaded himself in his office, switched off the passenger information announcements and tried to turn his mind away from the groaning, lamentation and anger coming from those selfish passengers in the departure hall. After all he had given them foil blankets so what were they moaning about?

Finally he decided to think back over the last year and consider what he might do in 2011. He tried to focus on all the fun things and the new friends he had made which lasted about 20 seconds so he then moved onto the progress he was beginning to make on distribution matters. He had quite a busy year in this area but he considered it mere positioning for what was planned for the coming year. He would show those vultures (I mean ‘partners’) a thing or two.

He started ticking off the successes and failures of the past. He congratulated himself for his success in transferring a major chunk of his own selling costs down the line. Who would have thought it could be so easy! Just put the squeeze and expense onto Past Travel and watch them ricochet onwards to Scrooge Inc. Job done! Except Scrooge being a savvy customer had let it happen in order to commoditise and claw back.

He was however beginning to understand Scrooge a lot better. It was difficult to start with but when he realised that old Scroogy played by different rules and was not impressed by his arrogance he found more subtle ways to play him at his own game. He discovered that as long as the up front price made Scrooge look good he could tinker away with the ancillaries rather like those ‘ghastly and common’ No Frills guys do.

It had been a shame about the black sheep of his family. After the wild euphoria of creating his very own online travel agency Ollie OTA had ultimately disappointed him. Now he had to try and undo the damage by putting him down in as humane way as possible. So off he had gone with his ‘content club’ and bludgeoned poor old Ollie as if he was a seal pup. Trouble was Ollie had a tougher infrastructure than he realised. ‘Memo to me’, he thought. Get in touch with Colin Cartel in IATA land and get him to come up with some kind of ‘creative’ rule interpretation to help me. After all good old Colin will do exactly what I say if he knows what is good for him. I am after all his boss.

That left just VeraCard and Gordon GDS to sort out. Both were thorns in his distribution sides but he was beginning to make serious progress. All he had to do was close his eyes to what travellers want and appeal to Scrooges desire for cheap nets and he would be nearly there. Vera would be much easier than Gordon. All he had to do was introduce a premium for using Vera (preferably higher than she cost) and watch old Past Travel do the rest. Scrooge would have to accept, especially if his competitor chums followed suit and they sure would like they always do.

Gordon GDS is another prospect entirely. Yes, Gordon is as anti change as he is and yes, he wants it all his way and yes, Gordon wants to increase his wealth not to diminish it. But like AssAir, Gordon does not appear to be able to come up with any more positive solution than more deep-seated intransigence. “Everything must change”, they cry, but not me! So Gordon hides behind the walls of Fortress Full Content while poor old AssAir tries to bash it down access brick by access brick. Meanwhile Scrooge and Pass It On shout for him to stop before they get hurt by the aftermath..

What a lovely time of the year Ass Air mused as he snuggled deeper into the ego massage machine chair that had been installed behind the double-locked steel door of his airport office. Have those damn passengers stopped snivelling he thought as he eyed the lovely looking ‘humble pie’ his cabin crew had cooked for him. No, he thought, I can always eat that when I absolutely have to and it will be Spring by then.

He reclined his lounger into bed mode and drifted into a blameless sleep.’ Oh what fun I will have next year’ he thought in his last moment of consciousness. But then he had a terrible dream. It involved all his antagonists sitting with him in a room sponsored by corporate travel trade associations and he was being made to cut a deal that would be fair for all and serving to the travel community.

But that really would be a fairy story….

A Christmas Distribution Story - Timmy TMC

2010-12-18T11:09:00.005Z

I wrote this sweet little story last Christmas and it is back 'by popular demmand' while I write the next one about GDSs which will be out in a few days.

Tales of Timmy TMC and his search for value– A Christmas Pantomime and work of utter fiction!

Timmy was sad. He had just returned from Agencies Anonymous and admitted to all of them that he was a TMC. He was looking for help to cure this terrible affliction but all the other sad souls took one look at him and agreed he was clearly past his sell by date and revoked his membership.

It had all started so very well for Timmy those years ago when his two benevolent uncles, Colin Commission and Oscar Override, used to send him cheques for doing very little. However recently, having used him for their horrible data mining purposes, they walked out leaving him a penniless orphan. Then even stranger things started to happen as his few pals started disappearing, changing their names and, worst of all, reverting to cannibalism and eating each other up. The stress of it all got to little Timmy and he started wondering if there would be a future role for him in this wacky and homicidal travel supply chain. He was sure he was useful but a little bit sketchy on the detail.

But Timmy was made of stronger stuff and knew, with a little sage advice from his supply chain colleagues, he would discover his value. “I know” he thought. “I will go and see my dear old benefactor Client Hardup”. “Sorry Timmy” said Hardup whilst absently massaging his EBIT, “but I have lost all my profits. I gave them to a nice man from the Fat Cat Investment Bank and he said they had been magiced away by millions of little elves wanting to feed their sub prime mortgages. However he also said that he was prepared to travel the length and breadth of Las Vegas to get it back if Timmy could donate a ticket”. “Sorry” said Timmy “I don’t get free tickets and upgrades any more. In fact the last ones were those First class round the world tickets which went to Mrs Hardup when she coincidently won your office grand draw”.

Hardup was sorry for Timmy. He remembered the days when Timmy used to give him good service, rebate cheques and upgrades. “Go and see my two sisters Pammy Procurement and Charmaine Cheaper-Thanyu” he said. “They may think of something valuable for you to do, although don’t hold your breath as I have just cut their travel allowance again.

Now these two girls hated each other something ugly. Charmaine thought she could do and get things better than Pammy. Pammy thought Charmaine was an undisciplined tart hawking herself around the web without any thought of the infections she could catch like cancellation flu and card chargeitus. The only thing they had in common was they both thought they could do anything better than Timmy who, to them, was an unnecessary downward pull on their sagging assets. They had enough budget stretch marks between the already.

Poor old Timmy. Little sustainable income and not the sharpest pencil in the commercial box. He trudged back to his lonely BTC and implanted himself in front of his PC. He aimlessly rubbed his mouse even though his fairy god mother had warned him his eyesight would be impaired when POOF! Out from the PC sprang the GDS Genie. “I will grant you one wish” she cried. “oh Genie” he wailed “You have told everyone that you know everything so please tell me what I need to do to find my value and make Pammie and Charmaine respect me like they used to when I bribed them.
“Blooming Heck” said Genie, “that’s a tricky question. How should I know? I have enough problems of my own dealing with that terrible ogre Amerimonster from IATAland. He wants me to get my sectors off for next to nothing. And then there is that green monster Olearymouth. He has been clambering down his beanstalk lately threatening you, me, in fact everyone he claps eyes on. So don’t bother me with your pathetic questions! And leave that mouse alone.”

Timmy was shocked and saddened. He had tried his colleagues, his clients, suppliers and even a fellow intermediary without a sniff of finding his value. Off he wandered into the pre Christmas recessionary gloom. Even his Blackberry had stopped talking to him and his Mobile phone, instead of saying “how are you” when switched on now said “Book Direct” instead. It was almost enough to make Timmy give up and become a consultant like everyone else.

Just as all seemed lost a jolly faced lumbering giant in a Santa outfit scooped Timmy up, clutched him warmly to his chest and squeezed him tenderly by the throat. “Giant Major Airline Timmy wheezed”. “Never fear Timmy” boomed Major. “You can trust me and I will look after you just sign this binding agreement and all your troubles will be over - well at least for a month or two”. “But that is what you said last time” said Timmy, “before you started smacking me about”. “Now, now” said Major “let’s forget about the past”. “That is also what you said last time” replied Timmy.
“NOW SEE HERE” boomed the Major with an inscrutable look on his face, Have you got any other options?

“Oh Major” said Timmy, “it is so good to be home. I’m hungry. Got any commission?!”

And they all lived happily every after – Or did they?

A Secure Life Abroad 1

2010-12-12T11:35:00.000Z

Having been born and raised in foreign parts I had no qualms about working and living abroad when I became an adult. After all, what could possibly happen to a strong and smart young man? I was invulnerable wasn’t I? And I knew exactly what to expect. Didn’t I? Err…no I am afraid not. I got mugged twice by the same person, shot at and even seduced (allegedly) by a Zambian ‘Mata Hari’. I had a suspected revolutionary in the office and a pet maniac in my garden.

It all started when I got a job working for an airline called British Caledonian. They retained a pool of individuals whose job was to travel around the world taking over from overseas managers when they took their annual leave. This meant I ended up travelling from one place to another spending four weeks in each location which was great work for a single young man.

My first trip was to Accra in Ghana. It was a jolly nice stable place I was told and so it seemed. The local folk were very nice and very efficient. I was granted temporary membership to the sailing club, polo club, rugby club and various private drinking establishments so I felt pretty smug.

The only problem was my night watchman. He was a one-eyed giant of a man in long white robes and he took his job very seriously indeed. I nicknamed him Cyclops which suited him well. I mischievously told him my name was Mr Heracles so we seemed to fit together quite well! Only trouble was that I began to wonder whether I was his employer or his prey.

He would arrive in the evening with a large sack containing the tools of his trade. These consisted of stones (specially selected to fly further) knives (yes plural) and a range of clubs. His two spears he left in the garage for safe keeping. On arrival he would slink around the garden hiding his weapons under bushes so that he was never 2 metres from anything sharp or lethal. You only had to look at his eyes to see he longed to use them and I even saw him once leave the garden gate open as bait for opportunist thieves.

The trouble was he used to consider himself my personal bodyguard. He literally shadowed me and when I looked out of any window his form brandishing a spear would rear up from the undergrowth in front of me. If I went in the garden he would ghost around about five paces behind me and occasionally flatten himself against the wall. ‘Mr Heracles, I think I see something’ he said.’Rubbish Cyclops’ I would say but it did not stop him leaping forward spear raised.

It really is unnerving to be watched that closely. I would brush my teeth at night to see him in the mirror with his nose flattened against the window. He would not allow me to get into bed without him checking under the bed and in the wardrobe. I finally had enough when he held two of my dinner guests at spear point until I vouched for their good intent.

Then one day the army arrived. There was apparently a coup against the then president Kwame Nkrumah and the army was securing their position. This included digging a large circular machine gun trench in the middle of the garden. The hole was dug out, surrounded by sandbags and occupied by two armed soldiers and an enormous antique looking Bren gun.

Imagine what this did to Cyclops when he arrived for his night shift. First he was startled, then he was enraged and finally a tight lipped grimace of anticipation spread over his face. ‘Oh, new toys’ I could imagine him thinking as he started walking around this new ‘flower bed’ while two nervous faces looked out.

I went to bed around about eleven after saying goodnight to Cyclops in the bathroom mirror and slept like a baby. After all, what could go wrong with two soldiers and Cyclops to protect me? However, when I woke up there was only Cyclops and an abandoned machine gun nest . What have you done with them I demanded to know but he just squinted devilishly at me through his one eye.

I received a visit from the military later that morning. The guards had endured Cyclops for only around 3 hours before they fled. It had been something like the Blair Witch project with strange sounds, shadows and rasping breath from every direction. The clincher was when ‘somebody’ had thrown a snake in there with them. The trench was never occupied again. Cyclops was bereft. Who had stolen his toys he seemed to ask.

Night guards can sometimes be nearly as problematic as the people they are supposed to save you from. The police can often be worse as my sequel will tell.

You don’t get ‘owt for nowt’ in travel distribution.

2010-12-08T17:51:00.001Z

For those that do not speak Yorkshire English that means anything for nothing and never has that been truer than in corporate travel. The only trouble is that this is exactly what many stakeholders are trying to achieve with alarming and inharmonious results.

Now people sometimes call this the pain of change or evolution but I think it is much more basic than that. I believe very little is changing other than people trying to offload cost to others as they rightly (or wrongly) believe that it no longer belongs with them. This has only recently started because now they cannot increase their charges to absorb this expense as the end customer wont stand for it. Lead price now seems to be everything so everything has to be stripped to the bone. This type of commoditisation is fine if you are prepared to do without something but not if you still demand your content, your credit, your data and all.

So everybody tries to find cheaper and more self serving alternatives. Some even see it as an opportunity to make more money by separating out a product and charging more for it than it costs. For example those suppliers who are now charging extra for GDS booking options and credit card usage. Is the price they are currently paying more or less than what they are going to charge the rest of the supply chain who want these services? Just look at TMCs and you will see how many turned a potentially disastrous commission cut into a more profitable business model.

I think we all have to go back to basics again and ask ourselves what we want and essentially, what we really do not need. Having done this we should look at all these component parts and ascertain who is currently paying for them and whether we could do it cheaper and more efficiently if we took control and accountability ourselves. I definitely think TMCs could play a broader role in managing these costs for corporations than they do at present. They are after all supposed to be an outsourced consultancy arm of their clients.

The travel distribution model is in a mess and stuck in a previous era. Low cost airlines and commoditisation completely shook up the market but the original infrastructure still remains despite attempts to shift it. Cartels like IATA still hold sway and bodies such as ACTE/NBTA/ITM have not really yet driven constructive dialogue to broker a badly needed repositioning. To my mind these groups need to get together and call a proper summit on these issues which would surely be more constructive than the same old glad handing bi annual conferences.

Everyone is in defence mode. Some people’s idea of defence is by attacking first. Others try the old head in the sand technique favoured by Ostriches. Most have tunnel vision. We need some clear thinking before we all end up as aggressive poor sighted flightless birds!

BA dispute – Pride and promises

2010-11-14T12:49:00.002Z

I did not think I would be commenting on this subject again but, instead of fading into apathy and compromise it is back again. BA made another of its final offers and the union involved was expected to ballot the cabin crew. But the unions did an about turn and has delayed the ballot despite admitting that it was the best deal they could achieve through negotiation. Why? Because I believe they think it would be too damaging for the union.

The crazy thing is that the main disagreements that caused the strike have mainly gone away in that BA has won the essential core of disputed issues. All that is left is the argument concerning staff travel perks. What is the problem? Well, in précis BA gave advance notice that all striking cabin crew would lose these perks. From what I understand the union went to the crew and told them to take no notice as they would get the concessions back for them within the dispute settlement. Partly on this basis enough of the crew voted to strike.

We now have a very large, proud and, in my view, arrogant union that promised something they are having difficulty delivering. Initially BA said a firm no to any kind of renewal of perks to strikers. They pointed out that they told the union at the time they would not move on this once the discounts were forfeited. This silly issue involving a reasonably small number of cabin crew now reached a disproportionate level of intensity purely because the union had dug itself a big negotiating hole and jumped in it. A perfect example of the expression ‘pride comes before a fall’.

And then BA relented. Well, not exactly relented but at least came up with a compromise of sorts. They offered to give the perks back to strikers. But there is a catch as they were not going to give this up for nothing further in return. BA have demanded a guarantee of no industrial action for at least 3 years and also any current legal action by the unions to be stopped.

They then went further to say all strikers would lose their seniority status for these discount and standby tickets until 2013. This is quite ‘serious’ as seniority and years served determines where you are in the queue for these tickets. To places like Barbados there can be scores of crew standing by. In fact, on one memorable occasion BA had to send a 747 to Barbados purely to pick up stranded standby staff. The strikers do not want to lose their status but BA knows that this is the only thing they can do to appease all those majority of staff who did not strike. After all these loyal staff would be pretty mad if they saw the strikers getting away with it by winning this point.

So, the soap opera continues. The argument that led to the strike have to a great extent gone. Instead a bi-product of the negotiations may cause yet another strike possibly some time in March 2011. At least Christmas is safe…I think. The union will ultimately ballot the staff once more but will not recommend the latest BA offer which they are now saying is “a step too far.” This sounds a bit different to their earlier comment about it being “the very best available through negotiation”.

What a fuss over a few cheap staff tickets. However daft I do not see where resolution will come from without a major and damaging stand down by the union. They know that this is no longer really about tickets. It is about the credibility of the union movement in the UK. What a mighty hole they dug for themselves over such an unimportant argument

My life in Toilets - Part 2

2010-11-11T16:03:00.002Z

Not only did I risk a criminal record and incarceration in Australia as a result of a pressing need to relieve myself but I have also found such a simple function nearly disastrous elsewhere too.

A prime example was when I travelled to the north of England to meet my future wife’s family for the first time. I knew it was going to be difficult anyway because they viewed anybody born south of Sheffield with acute suspicion and prejudice. I, having not even been born in the UK let alone Yorkshire was not considered human by them let alone suitable marriage material for their daughter.

I had to make a good impression so I rehearsed the things I would say and the complements I would pay to her mother. We arranged to make our arrival gradual by stopping off first at her sister in Malvern so she could phone ahead and say how nice I was. Or that was the plan anyway.

We arrived in Malvern to a warm welcome which immediately put me at my ease. However, shortly after arriving I felt the need to pay a visit to the smallest room in the house. They had kids and their main toilet was full of their stuff so I was led to the newly decorated en-suite bedroom and invited to use that one and, having paid the right complements about the decor and carpeting I settled down.

How can I explain this? It was a ‘big’ visit is all I will say. Having finished I pulled the flush and went to the basin to wash my hands. Suddenly in the mirror I saw water. The toilet had blocked. There was water and everything else pouring onto the carpet.

How do you go to someone you have just met and explain that you have made their toilet overflow? Well I had to and mine host spent the next hour or so with a coat. hanger, mop and rubber gloves clearing things up. The news had spread by the time we reached Judith’s parents and I saw the look of fear on their faces when I asked where their toilet was. Relations deteriorated even further during our short stay.

You get toilets in all shapes and sizes as you travel around the world on business and many are strange indeed. Like the rotating, self cleaning seat in Athens and the Tokyo Karaoke bar whose loo had cowboy saloon type doors so anybody walking by could see all of you sitting there apart from your groin area. Made it hard to concentrate especially when having a wipe!

Then there are those hotel toilets they insist on placing directly behind the door. I came back to my hotel from a late dinner in Paris not that long ago and went straight into such a bathroom. I hung my jacket on the hook behind the door and, after my bath went to bed. On opening the door the next morning I found my jacket had fallen off the shallow knob on the door and dropped into the open toilet. My first thought was 'had I pulled the handle before going to bed'. Thankfully I had and after 45 minutes with the hotel hair dryer I made my meeting although I did get some very funny looks.

I got some even stranger looks a few weeks later. I had got a job with the AA and was meeting a new and very formidable senior director at their Bristol regional headquarters. He was an ex military man and liked everything in its place including more junior visitors. On arrival some of my colleagues arranged a buffet lunch for me which was very kind. We loaded our plates from the table and sat on chairs to eat from our laps. Unbeknown to me a portion of butter was stuck to the bottom of my plate and had transferred in a greasy mess to my trousers.

Oh no I thought. What am I going to do? 10 minutes away from meeting someone even fiercer than my mother-in-law and my trousers were a mess. I shot into the nearby gentlemen’s toilet, soaked my handkerchief in scalding soapy water and rubbed the stain as hard as I could. It mainly spread the problem but then worse was going to come. There were no linen or paper towels but I needed to get it dry.

All they had was a wall mounted warm air hand dryer. I could not take my trousers off in such a public place so I tried to think of another solution. I found out that if I put my dry leg over the top of the dryer, an elbow on the sink next to it and a hand gripping a sink tap I could raise my body off the ground and dangle the wet trouser leg under the dryer. I was in the process of adopting this position when the door opened.

A very distinguished man walked in. he stopped mid stride, his jaw dropped and he muttered ‘what the hell?’ before turning on his heel and walking out. When I finished I went to the regional director’s office and met the great man. I had met him a few minutes earlier. He was the man who quite literally had nearly caught me with my pants down!

Pets Abroad 2 – Carnage in Kitwe

2010-11-11T14:26:00.003Z

You may remember I told you about our Kent farm cat Sooty (he was black) and how we took him with us when we got posted to Kitwe in Zambia. I explained how this small dinky looking fiend incarnate made himself quickly at home by terrorising our house staff and laying waste to the neighbourhood. In the next few paragraphs I will tell you more of his antics and how he became known within the community as ‘Madam’s Devil Cat’.

I preffered ‘devil cat’ to our house servants name for him which was ‘Madam’s pussy’. It started to get embarrassing as Silas would frequently burst into the lounge in front of guests and say “I cannot find Madam’s pussy” which raised many a guffaw. “I last saw it in Madam’s bedroom” he would continue.

Silas and I had a number of issues about who he should call what. For instance he would insist on calling me Bwana which made me feel like some kind of ancient white hunter. I frequently had conversations with him about it which went something like this:

Silas I cannot find Madam’s pussy Bwana.
Me. How many times have I told you? Stop calling me Bwana.
Silas. Ya Bwana
Me. I want you to call me sir.
Silas. Ya Bwana sir.
Me. No! Not Bwana sir. Just sir.
Do you understand?
Silas. Ya Bwana!
Me. Give me strength.

After a couple of weeks Sooty was beginning to feel at home. Despite being black and furry he seemed completely oblivious to the incredible heat although he did start to pant like a dog. He set about establishing himself as the top cat in the neighbourhood and rarely a day went past without hearing the sound of yowling, spitting and barking as he wreaked his havoc. He further amused himself by ambushing our gardener Patrick by lying on top of the garden archways and hurling himself on Patrick’s head as he walked underneath. The poor man would then run around the garden shrieking until Sooty stopped chewing and jumped off.

Another problem Sooty caused involved venomous snakes. I remember he found one in the garden where it had nested under the pool pump cover. He used to kill them but sometimes, as in this case, he wanted to show off by bringing it in and dropping the live and angry serpent on the lounge rug. Everybody jumped up onto the furniture as the thing thrashed around while Sooty sat a safe distance away licking his bottom and grooming himself in general.

The uproar brought Silas in. “Oh Bwana” he cried. Before I could say ‘don’t call me Bwana’ he was out the door. He returned a few seconds later with Patrick’s machete and chopped its head off. We had to live with a stained rug with a four inch cut through it for the rest of our stay

When he was not eating creatures such as insects, spiders, geckos, snakes (he always left the head) and other such things he insisted on Whiskas tinned cat food which we brought in on our trips back from holidays in England. It created great interest at customs. The officials saw the pictures on the tin and became convinced that it was tinned cat. “What does cat taste like they asked? I had trouble getting through to them that it was tuna jelly meat Whiskas for cats not of cat but with little success. In order to get it through customs I had to leave a few tins for them. They told me afterwards that cat tasted delicious and quite a bit like fish!

We only actually lost Sooty once. I reminded Silas of our agreement which was effectively ‘no cat equals no job’ for him and the neighbourhood was mobilised. Things looked bleak and we became resigned to the likelihood that Sooty was probably in some cooking pot or had fallen prey to one of the local guard dogs who harboured a grudge against him.

Suddenly we heard some ghostly wailing and an urgent cry of “Bwana, Bwana I have found Madam’s pussy!” We ran around the side of the house to find Silas leaping up and down pointing to a large diameter storm drainpipe where the yowling was coming from. Sooty was stuck in the ‘U’ bend. We had to tear the pipe off the wall to get to him. When it was horizontal a large lizard shot out with Sooty in hot pursuit. It ran up the wall and so did Sooty and the lizard was no more. He ran up the slope of the roof with the lizard’s tail hanging out the side of his mouth and on reaching the peak evacuated his bowels in shock.

In all the years we had Sooty it was his one and only showing of fear. Unfortunately it was one to remember as, for the next six months the pyramid of excrement stayed there until the monsoons washed it away. Despite everything he was a lovely cat and one you could definitely call a ‘character’, although many in Zambia did not share my admiration for the ‘Devil Cat’.

My Life in Toilets – Part 1

2010-11-09T15:41:00.003Z

Yes I know…a strange title but stay with me.
In the process of writing these blog ‘memoires' I started to realise how often the word toilet was coming up. This sounds odd to me too but I began to realise that toilets had played an important (albeit traumatic) part in my career over the years.

Some of you who may have read my rambling will remember how I fought an Australian in a Sydney W.C. and a large female attendant in a toilet next to the Paris perimeter motorway but these are just small skirmishes in my war with public conveniences of the world. I have fought with and in toilets across all continents and I feel I owe it to posterity to clear my conscience now as I lurch towards my twilight years. After all, how many people can say they have lost business, ruined relationships and been arrested whilst simply trying to relieve myself.

My most disastrous first memory was when I got arrested for indecent exposure in Perth, Western Australia. It was an awful misunderstanding. I had flown to the other side of the world to visit my then girlfriend who had been ‘forced’ to emigrate with her parents a few weeks previously. I travelled on airline staff tickets and it took me two sleepless days to make the journey. I found her address which was in the suburbs of the city and presented myself on her doorstep unannounced. Her new boyfriend answered the door!

What has this terrible tale of a jetlagged and broken heart got to do with toilets? That came later when she, her new boyfriend and her parents felt obliged to take me along to a dinner dance they were about to leave for. I was clearly as welcome as haemarrhoids .We sat at a big table with huge flagons of cold Swan Lager in the middle and I sat and watched the lovely Sue dancing with her new love so closely that you could not squeeze a cigarette paper between them.

There was nothing for it so I turned to drink. After consuming one flagon by myself I felt the most excruciating need to relieve myself so I stood up and made my way unsteadily across to the corner of the room where the toilets were. It was all a blur to me but apparently I first went into the ladies and got ejected. I went through another door which said ‘MEN’ and there was a further plain door on the left going into the toilet itself and another on the right that provided access to another entertainment room.

By this stage I really feared I was not going to make it in time so I started unzipping and preparing as I walked. I was out and ready as I turned right and fell into the other function room where they were celebrating a golden wedding. There was uproar. One of the people there was an off duty police officer and he immediately pinned me to the wall, read me my rights and arrested me for indecent exposure.

He phoned for back-up and a car and marched me out onto the pub forecourt whilst I continued trying to pull up my zip. The zip got caught (some of my male readers may understand the pain) which made things even worse. To cap it all they would not let me go back in so I had to pee against the wall which added another charge to my sheet.

My lovely ex and her family knew nothing of this until they got a call from the police station and an order to come and collect me. By this time I had been able to explain my jet lag, tiredness and misery and they took pity on me after having a good laugh at my expense. Needless to say I was disowned by my reluctant hosts who drove me to Perth Airport where I spent the night in the departures hall.

Whenever I go back to Australia I always wonder if one day I will stand at the immigration desk and this arrest with reason will flash up on the screen. So far so good but there is more to come in ‘Toilets 2’ the sequel!

GDS/Airline issue. Coming to a head?

2010-11-07T18:59:00.002Z

This whole issue is not only becoming a little tedious but also beginning to build like a volcano about to erupt. We have had quite a few years of the dormant stage but now the tremors are getting longer, bigger and more frequent.

The first sign of life started 5/6 years ago when airlines like British Airways started charging TMCs fees for booking their lower promotional or short haul flights via the GDS. Their logic seemed to be that, as their profit margins were lower then so should their cost of sale. The point having been made most of those airlines then went to their top TMCs and found a way of giving most of the charges back. Meanwhile the GDS also went to the same all important TMCs and compensated them for the cost through their incentive agreements.

Are there GDS/TMC incentive agreements? Yes there are. Or certainly were and I am practically sure this has not changed in the last couple of years. You see, despite what you may read in the AA Distribution Blog the GDS are locked in a battle with not just the airlines but each other as they make sorties into others markets and buy themselves in. Alongside this all GDS want to be sure that they preserve their near monopoly over unbiased content within the business travel sector, and they are prepared to pay to do so.

These GDS incentives must drive the airlines mad. A key reason for taking commissions and some incentives away from TMCs was because those TMCs used the money to pay their own incentives to clients as well as subsidise necessary unprofitable transactions (rail, car etc.) elsewhere. Now they are dealing with the same thing with the GDS to whom they pay a very large fee only to see big chunks of it passed down the supply chain in incentives to win/keep business.

The problem is how they solve the problem. Like commissions and everything else whatever they do is going to have implications down the line. If you take something away from any intermediary the balance will be rectified somewhere else. Rather like pressing a balloon full of water and finding it bulges elsewhere to compensate for the displacement. The only way cost can be truly saved is if what is taken away does not need to be replaced and we are not quite there yet in travel however much the airlines wish it so.

There has been one major tremor which happened shortly before I retired. The not so shy and retiring Lufthansa decided to break the mould but only in their home market where they enjoyed an unusually dominant position. Much to the howls of GDS, TMCs, corporations et al they started making bookings more expensive if they were not transacted direct or through the certain GDS who had reduced their fees. They ‘enjoyed’ mixed fortunes and their success, or otherwise, depends on who you talk to. From what I saw they lost significant business in certain sectors, antagonised people who were once partners and ended up paying much back in different ways. Talk to them and I am sure they will say it was all wonderful!

As soon as I saw that American Airlines had introduced their own distribution blog I knew that something was going to happen. It is certainly a tremor and could possibly become a significant eruption. To do something like they are planning they had to have an outlet to put out their justifications and propaganda. It started relatively brightly but now anybody can see it for what it is.

From my observations the first rumble has come with AA removing the ability for Orbitz to issue their tickets. In a strange way it made me smile. After all it was not that long ago that airlines around the world seemed to see these OTAs as the answer to combat TMCs. They persuaded themselves that it was just what corporations wanted and expected vast volumes of business to transfer over to these new players. It simply did not, and will not happen for all sorts of good reasons. Now, having lovingly introduced and supported these OTAs they are trying to damage them. Rather like a female praying mantis with it’s mate Make love then eat it.

So. Back to our volcano. Is it going to erupt or not? I think it will but not immediately. Something has to happen as these airlines cannot go on paying this level of fees to the GDS indefinitely and there are now growing alternatives, however basic (and costly to others) they may be. Every other part of the supply chain has reinvented themselves so as to respond to enabling technology, new players and changing clients but not (that I can see) the GDS. They have to adjust prices and action new ways of making money just like the TMCs did. Staying as they are is not an option. Meanwhile they should brace themselves for some variations of the Lufthansa model.

To end with my volcano analogy I would say that there will be no big explosion but more a growing flow of lava that will cover and impact the rest of the chain. GDS cost will be taken away, or at least significantly reduced but will pop up again elsewhere until it finally rests with the customer and their employers. They won’t like it and will probably use their power to demand compensation from the ‘offending’ airline. The end result? Rather like the removal of TMC commission the airlines will make a saving in one area only to find a corresponding cost in another. You see what they need to realise is you can only make a lasting saving by improving on the status quo not just changing it.

PETS ABROAD

2010-10-31T17:24:00.003Z

The British do not like to be separated from their pets and you might be surprised if you knew just how many of us tuck our little Fidos and Felixes in wooden boxes and take them with us if we get posted to foreign lands. I was no exception and, when we were posted to Zambia my wife gave me a non negotiable ultimatum. “Either me AND the cat or you go on your own”. The decision was made and Judith, me and a small bundle of furry hell prepared for our big adventure.

Sooty was his name and he was mad. We bought him from a farmer in Kent and he was clearly half feral(the cat that is not the farmer). He made his mark on the way home from collecting him when he broke out of his transportation box and ran amok in the car whilst I was trying to navigate through heavy traffic. Anybody nearby would have seen flailing arms and flashes of fur as we tried to catch him until finally he jumped on my head, stuck all four sets of claws in my scalp and refused to move. I had to drive to the nearest pet shop looking like Davy Crocket in order to buy a ‘Sooty proof’ wicker box. The guy behind the counter barely kept a straight face as he helped peel the spitting cat off me.

I went out ahead of Judith and Sooty to ensure everything in the house and garden was ready for their arrival. Having located our new house which was in the north of the country on the outskirts of the Copper belt town of Kitwe I started to prepare. The house had a servant called Silas and a gardener called Patrick. Silas was a giant of a man with a nasty bottle scar across his face. I took him aside and told him the raw facts of life

I explained that Madame was bringing her cat. I then told him he had two choices. He could protect little Sooty and make sure he did not end up maimed, poisoned or eaten and, in return he would be the best fed, best paid house servant in Kitwe. Alternatively he could let something happen to Madame’s cat and become instantly out of work.

He took the point so well that I started getting complaints. Apparently Silas, supported by Patrick had been touring the area beating all the other house servants to a pulp and explaining that if anything ever happened to ‘Madame’s pussy’ he would be back to finish the job. Not quite what I had in mind but very effective. Not only did Sooty remain undamaged and uneaten but, if he disappeared for the shortest of time the neighbourhood would echo to the sound of searching servants calling ‘here pussy pussy’.

Zambia Airways lost Sooty. Unfortunately they found him again in his box on the tarmac next to some pallets destined for Abu Dhabi. Apparently someone tried to stroke him by poking a finger through the bars only to have it shredded. So, off he went and finally arrived with us after two flights and a 24 hour delay. He was not happy and resorted to tormenting Silas by leaping on his head and tangling his claws into the curly hair. Our bar-room brawling giant was absolutely terrified and remained so for the two years we were there.

The average life expectancy of an English cat in the snake infested, hungry and wild area we were living in could be measured in weeks. Clearly they had not seen a cat like Sooty before. He laid waste to a wide area around the house, neighbouring gardens and the surrounding scrubland. After a couple of weeks there was nothing left to crawl or slither around the place.

He got bored and started new games like taunting the next door Doberman guard dogs. He would sit on an overhanging tree branch just high enough that the dogs could not quite reach him. They tried and tried until finally Sooty lowered himself a little further. The dogs never knew what hit them. As their slavering jaws strained upwards he simply raised his paw and slashed his claws across their noses. The neighbour presented me with the vet’s bill and had to admit that our three kilo cat had hospitalised his two guard dogs that both needed stitches. We did not speak much after that.

Sooty had loads of adventures in Zambia before we returned with him to the UK. He got stuck in drains, choked on a preying mantis; fell into the pool and everything in between. I will describe some of the mayhem he caused in another episode! Finally we had to get him out in a hurry because of a spreading outbreak of rabies and he ended up with his own seat on a light aircraft out of the country. Only the best for Madame’s cat!

He died a few years later at our home in Hampshire. The vet said it was feline leukaemia. I reckon it was more likely to have been boredom. He had a great life as his passport will testify!

As I said at the very beginning the British are mainly very attached to their pets but that can equally be said of a German I met in Zambia. He had bought a local German Shepherd as a guard dog and fell in love with it. He went on leave back to Germany and returned with a young and very attractive bride. Unfortunately the dog did not think so.

Every morning he would set off to work and his wife would have to lock herself in the house as the dog would try and set about her as soon as the car was around the corner. When he came home again the dog would be sweetness personified and go to her to be stroked. This went on for over a week until one day the dog got in to the house and bit the poor girl quite badly. Enough was enough and she gave him an ultimatum. It was her or the dog. He thought for the briefest moment and she caught the next flight to Germany.

A Take on AA Distribution Issues

2010-10-23T13:12:00.003+01:00

Isn’t the American Airlines distribution blog interesting? No I mean it without the slightest hint of sarcasm. Obviously it is a propoganda vehicle for getting their point across to all sectors of the market but it does make some good and credible (albeit biased) comment on this key issue.

I find the language they use fascinating as it mirrors their strategy at this particular moment in time. For example they are currently referring to TMCs as ‘Travel Agency Partners’ so one can assume that the very zigzag line that represents their TMC love/hate relationship must be on the ascendancy as they focus on those dastardly GDS. No point in having a go at TMCs and GDS at the same time.

The only downer I have on this blog is that it fails to identify or even pay any lip service to the broader issues and seems rather 'me' centric. What their corporate end customer’s true needs, objectives and arguments do not seem to get much coverage. Perhaps if they focussed more on these and put forward some proposed solutions for debate it might help both their cause and the industry they work in. Mind you this might become a double edged sword as their arguments would need to be compelling.They would also need to think outside their own box which they and most major airlines find far too vexing.

Let me try and give you an example. In the last of their blogs I read on ‘The Beat’ they were trying to say that TMCs choice of GDS was predictable and closely linked to their original owning airline. This is a far too simple assumption and somewhat dated. TMCs choose GDSs for much broader reasons than that although, in the past, there is more credibility in that argument. Now it is more a matter finance, other non air products, trained staff availability, support, global reach, and yes, full content and fares. The GDS have exploited their broader strengths in the markets they were dominant in to maintain that position. They provide things like broader choice, comparison and ancillaries that airlines don't.

Corporates demand that their TMC is kitted out with a booking engine that can provide a total regional and global focussed product for all services including that continental train or local hotel. The TMC responds by searching for a system that meets as many of those demands as possible and then bolts on any extras through their own technology. Preferably a one-stop shop covering as many core products as possible. Not just American Airlines bookings. They need to do this cost effectively and as seamlessly as possible.

What the corporate and their TMCs do not want is to find airlines who cherry pick what fares they put on which GDS thus depriving their travellers from the best prices, availability and choice. Any airline who does this is basically saying that they alone will decide which booking system you will use. Even worse some then impose fee penalties on those TMCs and corporates who have the effrontery not to comply.

So the distribution battle is getting hotter. AA in their blog, are now talking about a test of ‘global’ reach with the GDS. It reminds me of a ‘dare’ game I enjoyed with my friends in the playground all those years ago. I cannot see much benefit for the customer while these two forces slug it out and I am not sure either would come out without a very bloody nose.

Meanwhile what is the TMC doing? Are they just sitting their in a ring side seat or in the corner of their favourite with a towel and gum-shield. No, they cannot afford to do either and you will find the bigger ones are already building alternatives. Their issue is that direct links with numerous different suppliers (there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of them) is a poor but increasingly necessary option to the current few well chosen interfaces, but they need to do it.

One very likely scenario for the future will be the further development and release of these mega multi linked TMC platforms. Sounds familiar? Yes, such an entity is currently called a ‘GDS’.What will that do? It will enable TMCs to put (or deny) whatever content they want in front of whoever they want to see it. It will give them power. It will enable them to go to suppliers and negotiate deals and incentives.Deja vu?

So by trying to destroy one type of GDS the airlines will be creating other, possibly stronger ones. The same way they found removing TMC commissions meant they had to charge lower prices. Good luck to them. I suspect they will need it!

Corporate entertaining 3 – Could end in divorce!

2010-10-20T12:40:00.001+01:00

My relationship with my wife has been tested sorely twice in my years of being corporately entertained. It could have so easily gone the wrong way twice but thankfully Judith and I are still together. The occasions were even worse than the time I murmured “Oh yes Valerie” in my sleep. A terrible thing to happen, especially as I do not know anyone called Valerie.

The first occasion was when I was invited by British Airways to fly to Australia to see the rugby world cup semi final match between France and England. A fabulous opportunity which I could not turn down even though we would only be there for less than four days.

Anyway, we went to the fantastic Telstra stadium which makes our Twickenham ground look like a public toilet and sat just above the half way line in some of the best seats in the place. Marvellous, and to complete our joy England won, thanks mainly to the boot of Johnny Wilkinson. After the game we went into one of the ground’s hospitality suites and imbibed in copious quantities of the amber nectar (Australian for beer).

The need to make more room for the next pint(s) became irresistible so I went back into the main stand to find the lavatories. In the nick of time I found one and as I did what comes naturally at such times the loudest, drunkest and rudest Australian jubilantly staggered into the convenience. “Is that all you have got” he crowed as he relieved himself in the middle of the room. We are going to thrash you bstrds in the final next week. I disagreed and we had a little undignified pushing and wrestling.

The argument was settled by me during a pause in grappling. “Look” I said. Why don’t we swap phone numbers and agree that whoever loses next week phones the other to apologies”. He agreed and we parted and I frankly thought nothing further about it.

The following week I sat down back home with my wife and watched the final and, thanks to the boot of Johnny Wilkinson, we won. I went ballistic and jumped all over the room screaming “YES, YES” rather like that famous scene in the film ‘When Harry Met Sally’. I did not hear the phone ring but Judith did.

The first thing I noticed was the shocked look on her face. She asked me if there was something I needed to tell her about my sexuality. The question rather shook me so I asked why she should enquire. “Well” she said “I have just spoken to a drunken Australian. He was crying. He said he met you in a toilet in Sydney and that you had been rough with each other. He says he feels sad and ill but wants to say sorry. Hard to explain convincingly, I am sure you will agree.

The second time was far more local. It was at a supplier’s evening summer garden party near Windsor Castle. It was ‘finger buffet’ style and I was standing on his patio with a glass in one hand and a plate in another talking to other guests.

I suddenly felt something hard (and sharp) pressing into my groin. I looked down to find the host’s Doberman dog showing an enormous interest in my private parts to the point of chewing them. I tried to move him but every time he growled and snarled and continued with his fetish. By this time I was desperate and fortunately mine host arrived to drag the hound away, but not before my whole crutch area was covered in doggy drool and also a couple of trouser tears.

There were huge apologies all round and, after an extended visit to the cloakroom I came out with some of my trousers, and dignity intact. I did not want to hang around with such a wet patch so I went straight home.

Judith was in bed reading a book when I walked into the room. “Looks like you have been having a nice time” she muttered. I followed her eyes down to discover that what was initially a clean wet patch had turned dry, crusty and stained. “I know what you are thinking but you are wrong” I said. “Really” she replied with eyebrows arched. “Yes” I said. “It was a dog”. “They all are” she responded cryptically, and switched off the light as I stood there.

Corporate entertaining 2 - A few painful lessons learned

2010-10-17T18:18:00.003+01:00

Now the whole thing about entertaining or being entertained is one networks, enjoys oneself, meets people and forms relationships beyond pure negotiation. If you are lucky you get all these things each and every time. If you are gaffe prone like me you can get into all sorts of trouble as I will explain by way of a few examples.

Hosting Golf:
My company used to invite its key clients to a golf day at one of the main prestigious courses every year. I got to front them as nobody else on the board played. The last one I hosted was at Moore Park in Hertfordshire and we spared no expense in making sure it went well. The trouble was that everything seemed to conspire to go wrong.

It was just one of those days. It started when the Chief Exec of one of our top clients got locked in the ancient toilet cubicles in the old manor house. It turns out he suffered horribly from claustrophobia and he went berserk in the tiny cubicle unable to climb out (he was large) and was finally rescued when we kicked in the door. He went straight home.

We had arranged for a chap to do our clubhouse scoring for us. He had a lot of kit including computers and TV monitors that he somehow managed to jamb into a small hatchback. We did not want him to disturb our guest so we told him to go behind the manor and reverse up to the sweeping outside staircase so that we could discretely unload through the French windows of our allocated room. I idly watched as he arrived and started reversing, and reversing, and reversing.

He must stop I thought otherwise he would back into the huge old and rare urn planter that was standing on a tall concrete plinth at the side of the staircase. But no. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as first the crunch and second the sight of the ancient urn fragmenting as it went through his back window and then his monitors. Horrendous and very expensive to put right.

Finally the guests all arrived and a good day’s golf was enjoyed by all. Well perhaps not everybody. One team of guests fell out badly with each other because of alleged cheating and another got bitten by the only venomous snake in the British Isles. Oh and one broke his buggy and another fell down a small ravine. Not bad really considering everything.

After the golf we all sat down to dinner. My board colleagues turned up including my own chief executive. He had never played golf and clearly was not a fan. He was most put out when he saw the table plan and wanted to know why he did not have all the most senior people at his table. I tried to explain that after golf guests always sit with the team members they played with but to no avail. He clearly felt slighted especially as the only subject talked about at his table was golf.

At the end of the dinner it was his turn to take centre stage and address the guests. I had been announcing the winners and prizes and it was all very relaxed and jolly. My final task was to introduce a more and more impatient CEO. Let’s keep it relaxed and fun I thought so I said “I would like to introduce my CEO who some people describe as like a lighthouse in the desert. Brilliant, but absolutely useless”. Much chuckling took place and the great man spoke

The event finished and goodbyes were spoken. Everybody said they had a good time (including the wounded) and two chaps told me that one of the reasons they use us is the approachability of our directors and the way we could ‘have fun’ together.

I was pretty pleased with things and thought quite fondly of the last remark until my mobile phone rang as I drove home. It was my CEO. He said that if I ever humiliated him like that again my days in the company were numbered!

What did I learn? Apart from checking toilets, avoiding urns and maybe having a medic around I guess the main thing was never to expect your boss to automatically have a sense of humour similar to yours!

Corporate Entertaining, a Good Thing? - Part 1

2010-10-03T22:28:00.003+01:00

Some would say I have been blessed in that I worked in an era where corporate entertaining in the travel business was frequent and lavish. Because of the positions I held I was either entertaining our clients or being entertained by suppliers. Great you may think, Wimbledon, Twickenham, Ascot, and Wentworth here we come. But things did not always run that smoothly especially when times became tougher.

You see, once you give someone something one year and don’t the next things get sticky. Even worse when a spouse is involved An example would be a very major car hire company that had a huge facility at Wimbledon every year for the tennis with vast numbers of corporate seats at the main courts right up to finals day. You might imagine that anybody would be thrilled to be invited but think for a minute. OK, the invites are great but for what day have you been invited? Was it earlier or later in the tournament than last year? Is it for the main courts? Is your spouse invited like last year?

I have known people get quite vengeful if they have been downgraded in the pecking order, offered tickets to secondary matches or even ignored entirely. The worst happening at Wimbledon was the fateful day when VIPs spouses were not invited for the first time. Senior industry figures were apoplectic to the extreme that many cancelled or, even worse, failed to turn up. Then the next year they had more invitations for hospitality than Centre Court seats. Imagine the scene as mine hosts walked around the tables dishing out envelopes on finals day and the varying expressions ranging from smugness to outrage as the tickets were pulled out. Not pretty. In fact slightly reminiscent of a TV talent show.

So there you are. Sometimes offering somebody something fantastic is only OK if you are going to do it again, and again and again otherwise your generosity backfires to a point where your money has bought an ‘insulted enemy’ not a loyal friend.

But should corporate hospitality be offered or accepted anyway? Many corporations ban their people from attending now and I wonder if they are right? Why is it being offered? Are suppliers working on the basis that if one accepts they are going to get your business? Are they trying to bribe you? Maybe some may be attempting just that but I think most are not that naïve.

You need to ask yourself what happens at these events apart from everyone hopefully having a good time. I think it means that people end up in close proximity with suppliers and fellow buyers in an environment where you can take their measure. Very often you can get to their bosses as well. So unless one is so weak and without scruples that you are prepared to take the wrong product at the wrong price in order to watch some tennis then I can only see value in it from both sides. Many I know will disagree.