Now in its fourth year, the festival is known for being the key event for the local communications industry and, with an expectation of 3000+ attendees, Nokia were onboard as sponsors; with both a device launch and a booth on site, part of the deal was that they were able to nominate their own speaker for the weekend.

The brief? An introduction to word of mouth marketing; a relatively unknown discipline in that part of the world. Case studies would be a necessity but, while I was permitted to talk a little about the work with Nokia, any heavy-handedness would not be welcome.

‘Perfect’, I thought. ‘It’ll be me, a room of 20 or so people, talking about (and probably kicking ideas around) the idea of word of mouth marketing and what it means to the modern-day brand’. Donezo.

Upon arrival [landing just after midnight, after leaving Beirut in the morning and making a short stopover in London for lunch - long story], I was asked to come down to the venue to meet the team and pick up my credentials.

‘But it’s really late and I doubt it’ll go on for long, I’ll do it tomorrow’, I said.
‘No’, they insisted ‘the party is only just starting. Come now.’

I did, and they were right: the party was only just getting started. However, that wasn’t the only surprise of the night. After meeting and greeting the rest of the people I was there to represent, I was asked if I’d like to see where I’d be speaking on the morrow – ‘Yes’ I replied, ‘that’d be great’, expecting to be shown to some corner/booth somewhere in the main hall.

Oh no. How wrong could I be?

Imagine my surprise as I was shown into the main conference hall and simply told ‘Yes, you’ll be in here’
‘Sorry? How many people can fit in here?’
‘Oh, about 900 sitting but probably closer to a full thousand when we fill up at the back’

Right.

The following day I rewrote the entire presentation (less Q&A and small numbers, more pretty images and big stories). I had potentially one thousand people to entertain. At 5:30pm. On a Friday. Plus, after once reading about Jyri Engestrom‘s tendency to wear bright red cardigans whenever he gives lectures to large groups of people (it helps the audience keep track of the presenter on stage apparently), I thought I should rock the red trousers too.

So I did – and it was awesome.

Click here to view the embedded video.

PS. Rovinj is gorgeous, I thoroughly recommend visiting if you ever get the chance.

Moleskine Entry April 24th 2011

1. Bejing (and China in general actually) is beautiful. Stunning even. I am more at peace now than I think I have ever been. I am calm and immensely happy.
2. We have been busy.

We arrived on April 22nd. It was raining. Hard, Asian, Bladerunner-esque city rain.
It was perfect.

I had video to show you, but it never saved – this makes me sad, but I think the definition above does it justice.

After checking into our hotel and getting our debrief, we ventured out for some food.

OH MY GOD THE FOOD.

Plus, naturally, my first experience of Chinglish.

Eight ate, total? £40. You can see why we love it here.

After our appetites were full sated, we ventured out to the bizarre food market to try out the the strange delicacies therein.

I ate a scorpion. Nuff said.

The lights, the buzz, the constant chatter of bartering; the atmosphere is enchanting. With my new found friends in tow, we continued.

Our guide had mentioned a lake far north of the city surrounded by bars. It was a fair old walk but we found it, eventually.

Walk far enough around and you’ll make your way past the over-priced tourist spots and find more appeasing, friendly bars who create new prices on the spot (and, when asked nicely, will let you play your phone’s Spotify playlist through in-house sound system).

It was ace.

Which leads us nicely to yesterday; April 23rd:  Mao Money, Mao Problems

Today we did as much as we could. We’ve planned to do the wall tomorrow and as such, the others don’t have much time left to do the tourist bit. Our honcho this time ’round is a bit more hands off, choosing to show/tell us things and then let us find our own way.

Things we did:

• Tianamen Square – It’s BIG
• The Forbidden City – It’s HUGE (and immense)
• The silk market – Very pushy
• The Olympic park – Birds Nest Stadium!
• McDonalds – We had to.

– – — – Whatley out

Jasmine flowers of Lebanon,
fall softly on dusty streets.
The fragrance soft, enraptures,
stops me dead upon my feet.

Around me buildings crumble,
scars of war so plain to see.
Yet nature’s beauty thrives right here;
this flower has ensnared me.

Soaring, its scent takes me.
Higher, higher still.
Skies, bright blue. Sun, pure yellow.
I’ve nearly had my fill.

But wait, one second longer.
Let me taste its wonder once more.
Savour this moment, this fleeting kiss,
Fair flower maiden, no more.

Today is Sunday. Last night we threw a fancy dress part and everyone got involved (well, everyone we knew anyway).

This was, as you can imagine, quite amusing for the Mongolian smugglers traders on board.

Around midnight Moscow time [4am Mongolian time] we were joined by a couple who had tickets stay in in the Tsar’s Retreat. That’s right, I now no longer have my room to myself. Boo.

The good news is, the couple seem quite cool. One Brit and his American wife. One night of sharing the cabin left ahead and then we reach Mongolia. Well, that’s not strictly true.

We’ll be arriving at Ulanbataar at some point tomorrow. We actually cross the border into Mongolia in a couple of hours. [Hilarious] Russian ticket inspectors are aboard now: two women, late 40s, wearing knee high leather boots, full make-up, bright pink liptstick and a light blue, figure-hugging uniform reminiscent of the flight attendants from the 70s. Possibly the best thing I’ve seen on the whole trip to date.

You wouldn’t believe it. I’d snap a photo if I could but I daren’t. I fear I would be taken outside and shot or worse, taken back and used as a Russian sex slave forced to do their every deed at the crack of a singular, jet-black whip.

I’m clearly still quite drunk.

And still, we’re on a train.

Moleskine entry: April 14th, 2011

Within the train, we’re on Moscow time. The timetables, dining schedule and bar opening hours are all on Moscow time.

When we get off the train however (at various stations and stops along the way), we’re suddenly on local time, which could be anything upwards of +2/3/4hrs more.

Time travel.

We did a lot today – much I want to cover but first I need to finish off what happened last night – I called the Honcho, Marina, as requested -

-
- and managed to get directions to the restaurant where they were all grabbing dinner. 10mins later (and one short hop, skip and a jump down the late night snowy streets of Moscow) and I’d found them. Awesome.

Two brothers, Ben & Oly (on a vodka-drinking YouTube mission – more on that one on a later date) and two friends, Sally & Mel. The latter pair used to live together and Mel, the Aussie of the group, is on her way back home (Sal’s just along for the ride). They’re a good bunch and I reckon I’ve landed on my feet quite nicely…

We were joined by another group of travellers last night too. This bunch are headed off to Mongolia later today (we may run into them there, but if not then we’re definitely meeting up in Beijing) and they were more than happy to join us for post-dinner vodka and beer.

It was… a late night, a lot of fun and – as first nights in Moscow go – not bad at all.
- – -

Today, Tuesday, we woke up around 10am local time and remembered we’d agreed to go running before breakfast. Ben & Oly were committed (or at least should be) and I joined them. 3.5miles-ish, in total. With our loop point being St Basil’s Cathedral.

Look, I even made you a map -

View Larger Map

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Like I said before; Madness.

Post-morning workout we headed out in search of food and – what with it being 50yrs since Uri Gagarin took man’s first step into space – we made plans to visit the Moscow Space Museum (along with pretty much every other resident of Moscow for that matter), but that can wait for another day.

Basically today, my first 24hrs in Moscow, has been fantastic. I’ve got a smile on my face and four new friends to travel with.

Moleskine entry: April 11th, 2011

There’s a larger entry to come later today I’m sure but, it’s 19:50 local time, I’ve been in this taxi for nearly an hour and if the Godzilla Hostel doesn’t actually look like the Japanese legend of old, I am going to be thoroughly, thoroughly disappointed.

That is all.

…to sort a few things out.

A few weeks ago I flew to Moscow for a couple of days and from there, caught the train to Beijing (stopping off for a few nights in Ulanbator, Mongolia along the way). The journey itself was perfect and pretty much exactly what I needed.

To put things in perspective: over the past month I’ve jogged around Red Square in the morning snow, galloped across the Mongolian desert in the afternoon sun and – thanks to a midday downpour – got soaked to the skin deep within the Forbidden City. ‘Spectacular’ doesn’t quite do it justice.

There’s much to catch up on [and a fair amount of moleskinerie to write up] but for now, it’s good to be home.

Back soon.

There are times in my life when I love my job, there are times in my life when I hate my job, there are times in my life when my job opens my eyes to something so freakingly awesome but no matter what happens, I can never tell anyone.

Friends ask me often if I enjoy what I do, whether I’ve seen anything cool lately and/or if I can tell them of anything I’ve seen – “Y’know, blogger to blogger?”

More often than not, I respond with the following – “It’s like the old joke…”

A preacher who liked to play golf every Wednesday at a modest public golf course was standing on the elevated tee at the sixth hole of that course...

He took a few practice swings, and looked across the river to the immaculate private country club nearby.

“Just once I’d like to play at that gorgeous course,” the preacher said to his foursome.

Another player spoke up:

“My company has a reserved tee time at that club for us every Sunday morning, and it’s all paid for, too. But all of a sudden yesterday the boss says we have to travel out of town for a week. It’s a shame to let that tee time go to waste. I could give you a guest pass and you could have it all to yourself. Would do you say?”

Of course this was a dream come true for the preacher, but it put him in a terrible predicament. If he accepted the gift, he would have to miss Sunday worship. He thought to himself,

“I haven’t missed a Sunday service in 17 years of preaching. A sin to be sure, but I am after all just a man trying to do my best like all the rest.”

He succumbed to temptation and accepted the invitation.

On Sunday, the preacher awoke, called his deacon, and said, “I’m terribly sick today, and will not be able to offer service.”

“Well, we surely hope you are feeling better soon,” said the deacon. “What matters most it that your health is blessed, and we shall all pray for you today.”

This made the preacher feel a little guilty, but it was a beautiful clear cool morning, and promised to be a beautiful day. He opened a box from under the bed that had a new folded golf shirt, his cleaned and polished golf shoes, and he put them on instead of his usual clothes.

Later, on the beautiful practice green, the preacher fit right in but couldn’t help feeling conspicuous. At that exact moment up in Heaven, Saint Peter was looking down. He said to God,

“Do you see what is happening down there? I’m very disappointed in this preacher. Surely you are going to do something?”

God replied, “Don’t worry Pete, I’ve got it all figured out.”

St. Pete knew it was best not to question any further, but to just wait patiently and watch for it all to play out. He watched the preacher walk confidently to the first tee, a short par-4. The preacher teed it up, and hit a pretty fair drive, low and straight.

But just then, God waived his hand and created the perfect little wind. The wind carried the ball as if in the hand of God and lifted it down the fairway. The ball took once bounce and landed on the green, kept rolling, swung to the right, barely crept up to the hole, and fell in. It was beautiful.

Up in heaven, St. Pete was very upset.

“An albatross! Are you kidding me? Here is one of our own preachers committing this sin, on a Sunday no less. Just when I’m certain that you are going to offer up the perfect punishment to befit the sin, you instead go and reward him with a once-in-a-lifetime shot?”

God says, “Yes, but calm down Pete. Who is he going to tell?”

I love my job.
I get to see the coolest things in the world before anyone ever will.
My eternal curse is that 99.99 times out of 100?
I’m never going to be able to tell anyone.
Damn.

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.

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Images via Paul Clarke