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So beginning of the year arrives with its inevitable non-achievable resolutions, and another permanent fixture – the series of sales kick-off meetings that are run in January. Having recently taken on a new role, one of my official responsibilities is to be a showman at these events and so after rather a lot of preparation, I grabbed my 2 two very heavy PCs and we headed off to the airport for stage #1 – Las Vegas.

Reality and the Las Vegas Strip seem intent on diverging. We arrived in a surreal setting, the Venetian Hotel (itself bizarre) and the closing of hours of the “Adult Entertainment Expo” i.e. porn convention. People watching was taken to a new level as stunning, buxom ladies were followed by a flotilla of traditional large “mid-west” guys brandishing very big lenses. But tired from the long flight, we bypassed all these attractions for a short stroll on the strip and took one of the 87 lifts up to the room.

Room is actually an understatement – it had 3 TVs, 4 phones, a DVD player, fax, printer and copier and a sensory mini-bar (which meant if you touched anything it was automatically charged to your room). It also had a large desk and working furiously over the weekend, we got everything ready and I did my presentation, which went down well. After that we had a bit of free time, so departed for that great American past time, shopping. Due to the low dollar rate this was really a pleasure and we braved the freezing temperatures to visit all the bright and shiny malls on the strip.

I also managed to catch a couple of shows. The classic Phantom of the Opera, has had a Las Vegas make over, and has been shortened both in name and content. No longer a 150 minute musical with a nice interval for ice cream, “Phantom” has become a twice nightly, 90 minute “experience”. Despite the eradication of sub-plots and its Hollywood style, it was an improvement. The theater was purpose built for the show so the sets and special effects were awe-inspiring – the broken chandelier that opens the West End show by meandering up to the ceiling was replaced by a massive 4 piece construction that flew round the theater before majestically assembling itself. However, they did skimp a bit on the actors. During the firework encrusted masquerade scene, many of the “people” on the grand staircase were not actually moving and conveniently, and rather unnaturally, slid to the side as the phantom descended.

The second show was a Zumanity by Cirque de Soleil – reflecting the show’s theme of “the human zoo”. This show is billed as the “sensual side” of Cirque de Soleil and you had to be over 18 to enter – and let’s just say, the costumes were probably not the biggest cost in the production. But it certainly lived up to Cirque quality – from the incredible acrobats swimming in a giant wine glass to the beefcake that did nothing much really, the show was vibrant and very enjoyable.

From there it was off to tour stage #2 – Barcelona and back to a reality. The hotel room was normal (about ¼ the size of the Las Vegas room), although the receptionist said ‘just follow the signs to the odd rooms’ – which I did waiting at one of the 3 lifts for the 80,000 guests. Still, the city has a decent public transport system and the number of recognizable porn stars was minimal. Thanks to all the preparation we had done in Las Vegas and a really professional crew, set-up time was remarkably short so I ducked out of the preparations and stopped off at some of the Barcelona highlights.

The Gaudi masterpiece La Sagrada Família is, as ever, a must. Every time I visit this awesome building I keep hoping they are further to completion – and each time I am sorely disappointed. The entire knave is still filled with scaffolding and this time you were not even allowed to ascend the spires – some newly updated posters, informs that it is not scheduled for completion until 2026 – so a few more visits yet. Another highlight is Las Ramblas the main drag in Barcelona – with its shopping streets and individual boutiques, not yet soiled by uniform mega-commercial chain stores. The evening started off well, strolling past the street stalls selling colourful parakeets, bunnies and, somewhat disturbingly, dwarf hamsters. We were looking for a nice restaurant and found one, with delicious seafood; prawns with huge quantities of garlic, mussels, calamari and baked something fishy, which made a nice change from conference food. Sadly, the evening was marred on the way back by the colourful and rather aggressive prostitutes who did not want to leave us alone (you have to be wary, several wallets had been), and this blemished the otherwise pleasant stroll back up Las Ramblas.

With a one day back in cold, cold Germany is was then off to the stage #3, hot, hot, hot, humid, humid, humid Singapore. Due to screaming children, unpleasant neighbors, and being packed in like sardines, the flight to Singapore was not the best. Singapore Air is not what it used to be and upon arrival at 6:00 am the heat and humidity pervaded the plane at Changi Airport, adding to the discomfort of zero hours sleep.

Arriving at the rather posh hotel I was told that, despite a check-in confirmation for 6 am, no room was available and I should “come back later” – at this point, it was no more Mr. Nice-Guy. Hot, sweaty, tired, laden with baggage, Mr. More-than-usually-Obnoxious emerged and started waxing lyrically on how crap the service was, and how I was not going to move from reception until a room was available. Miraculously a room suddenly became available, with a nice balcony, a wide screen TV and an ironing board that came all the way up to my knees. Still, myths of Asian efficiency were busted.

Several other Singapore myths were also busted – “Singapore high-tech capital of the world” was rubbish – Internet connections were painfully slow and made the demos drag, “Singapore shopping capital of the world” no-way. Perhaps “Singapore rip-off capital of the world” would be more appropriate – shopping for high-tech stuff was a real disappointment – I kept being offered Japanese equipment with a completely unfathomable user-interface (although perhaps not for a Japanese speaker).

Still things went otherwise well, you just have to get in to the Asian mid-set of expect the unexpected and just go with it otherwise you drown in frustration. Just before the final session, a whole load of people turned off and started getting undressed – not sure what was going on the stage manage politely asked who they were – “the aerobics warm up team” they replied. OK. The motivational speaker who kept changing their mind on what to present and what entrance music to play. OK. I suppose I could put it down to the preparations for Chinese New Year.

The event rounded off in splendid style with a “beach party” for 2,500 people. Luckily the showers that had been plaguing us for most of the day stopped, and the party was a great success – but we were not allowed in the sea due to concerns about mixing alcohol and water. Sadly, I had to leave early to catch my return flight, where Singapore Air redeemed itself somewhat by giving me a whole row to myself. Still it is a long flight, 13 hours, and gives one time to reflect. Yes, the world is a stage…. (what, expecting something more philosophical? Get real, not with 98 movies on offer).

So, let´s say you are a large multi-national software company about to launch your most strategic new product in years. You arrange a huge press event in New York for September, pick a good demo guy (that would be me), and plan dress rehearsal… something to test everything – people, flow, infrastructure, nerves – where are you going to go? Well, as per my previous postcards, India seemed like a good location to tackle all these.

After swearing it would take years for me to set foot for a third time in India, the gods were against me and I grudgingly applied for the visa and dragged myself to the plane. The reasons why India is not my #1 holiday destination became apparent the moment the plane doors were opened – It was just past midnight and it was 33°c outside – the heat pervaded the plane.

The hotel looked OK though, but again skin deep. As I blearily plugged in my PC, the socket crackled alarmingly and that electrical spark indicative of bad wiring flashed alarmingly. The towels were not exactly clean, and then there was that mysterious, somewhat disturbing, clear plastic jug that is ubiquitous in every Indian toilet. And then the lights went out.

To ensure a constant power supply, the following morning 6 huge diesel generator trucks had magically appeared and our backstage area had spawned an interesting and dangerous looking rickety rack of 32 car batteries to “even out the supply” – the rack had its own supervisor. The number of staff in the hotel was staggering – walking in to a tiny, supposedly quite restroom, there was always at least one man lurking around ready to greet you and hand you a paper towel. Two people were dedicated door openers, it took 7 people to plug in a cable on stage. On one occasion I was greeted 7 times walking from my room to the lobby.

But the India rehearsal went well and we started to prepare for the main event at the Nokia Theater on Times Square in New York. The trip started well, a Singapore Airlines flight, with a nice limo picking me up from the airport, to take me to the Ritz-Carlton in Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan. The hotel Web page shows amazing views out towards the Statue of Liberty – with in-room telescopes. I was, however, assigned a “town side” view, for which I did not need a telescope to take in the breath taking view of the dumpsters.

From my arrival, things shifted up a gear as the main event drew ever closer. The transformation of the theater in to an SAP event location was an incredible achievement. Tables were added, screens erected, food prepared, branding was tastefully arranged – meanwhile the demo team were surprisingly calm testing the systems and preparing the demo machines, while the SAP board members practiced on stage.

As the appointed time approached, I become ever more nervous. It wasn’t the complexity of the demo, the number of people present (only about 300, with a live simultaneously translated Web cast) – it was the sheer the responsibility. Thousands of people had spent many man-years programming and preparing for this launch and I wanted to do them and the product justice.

Thanks to the preparation, a rock solid product and excellent support, the 4 demos really shone with only a couple of tiny glitches. Both exhilaration and relief were palpable as I left the stage to tumultuous applause and all that remained was to hold a couple of interviews, have an afternoon nap and participate in the celebration (OK, and then go shopping).

Coming back to Germany, I was in time to join the celebratory party there too. 2,000 developers took over a multi-story car park to celebrate. Speeches were held and a “highlight” video was shown, where I featured quite prominently. As I got up on stage, I was touched by the cheers that went through the crowd – and I realized my fears in New York had been totally justified – had the demo had gone badly, I think I would have been lynched.

I felt proud and honored to have been part of this, it was one of the most nerve racking experiences I have had, but also one of the most rewarding.

My first experience with Kuala Lumpur could be described as quirky. Disembarking from the 70 km ride with the sleek airport train I needed to change lines. Although my map showed a single hub, in reality there are 5 different lines, built and run independently, with separate ticketing systems and so awkwardly located so they do not “connect” at all. I ended up dragging my bag across a car park and a 4 lane highway to get to the inconveniently situated, but “connecting” mono-rail station.

After dumping my bags in the hotel, I hurried off to the Petronas towers, 88 stories in all and 3rd tallest building in the world. You are only allowed up to the famed double-decker Skybridge connecting the 41st and 42nd floors – but at 170 meters up it is still pretty lofty. The bridge is actually designed to be a safety value – if there is a disaster in one tower people can quickly evacuate to the other. 1,400 free tickets are issued daily on a first come, first serve basis, but before entering the surprisingly crappy lifts, you have to endure a 3-D corporate propaganda video, about the ethical and environmentally friendly way oil and gas is extracted and refined.

After a wonder around the city, the next attraction was the Batu Caves. The huge limestone caves, discovered about 120 years ago, have been converted to a Hindu Shrine, dedicated to Muruga. To get to the main temple it is a long climb up the practically numbered 272 stairs past his golden image and a troop of monkeys, ready to pounce if you indicate you have food. Once back on terra firma, you then have a chance to pray for thanks that you were not attacked at the shrine of the monkey god nearby.

From the caves, my driver and I visited the Forestry Research Institute and their jungle canopy walk. To reach the 200 meter long walkway you have to trek up a very steep path for about 45 minutes. Within about 10 minutes, the jungle heat and humidity meant I looked like I have lost a rather viscous water-balloon fight. My driver gave up half way, despite being younger and supposedly fitter than I. However, it was well worth the effort, but the 30 meters high construction, made of string, aluminum ladders and a prayer was far more frightening than the Skybridge.

Nearby was the next port of call, the 10 year old city of Putrajaya – the new Administrative Center of Malaysia, covering 20 sq miles of ex-rubber tree plantation and funded mostly by – you got it – Petronas. All government agencies and 320,000 people will eventually relocate here, up from the current 50,000. The place is astonishing; built around a huge man-made lagoon, with each government building erected in a different architectural style. The 9 bridges are spectacular duplicates of famous bridges around the world – and the whole area is capped off by the prime ministers official offices, quirky to say the least. In summary: architecturally interesting, but totally sterile – worth a (short) visit.

The weekend trip was rounded off nicely with copious amounts of shopping – the night markets and omnipresent malls proving a fertile source of anything fake (cufflinks, DVDs) and even some genuine items (computer hardware) if you looked hard enough.

From Kuala Lumpur the next stop was Singapore for some business meetings – only an hour away but far hotter and humid. We braved the frequent showers for a trip to the Raffles Hotel and a spot of diner. Food was supposed to be a highlight, but the one restaurant we tried was disappointing.

However, I had read a lot about durians, supposedly “the king of fruits” – and we spent a pleasant hour tracking some down. This was more a sensory experience rather than a pure eating one. A green, spiky lump about the size of melon, the smell was dire, the texture was like butter and it looked like puss. There is choice of quality and taste, I went for top quality, sweet option (as opposed to bitter) – it was like having a mouthful of slightly sweet, rancid lard. Quirky to say the least and you get to enjoy the experience repeatedly as your stomach churns away merrily all afternoon.

The meetings went well, but Singapore is far too organized. An example of the orderliness was the instructions for the office chairs; it gave me some good ideas for an idle afternoon. But sadly, my supposedly week long trip to Singapore was cut short by a call to return urgently to Germany in preparation of my next postcard.. that will be an interesting one.

So when the idea of spending a holiday in Dresden and the Czech Republic was first floated my immediate reaction was that of trepidation – I automatically assumed they had running water (the word Dresden means people of the riverside forest and it is situated directly on the Elbe), but did they have hot water? What about electricity? Phone? Internet?

And come that what about the inhabitants? Still, on the bright side, I have never met and orc, and I am sure the trolls are nice bunch if you treat them well.

The first surprise was that Dresden is not really all that far away. It took just over 4 hours to get there and the roads were really excellent – I mean it is 18 years since the Berlin Wall came a tumbling and so I would hope they have something to show for it. The main trunk roads leading to Dresden are all excellent, the roads inside the city though still need some work.

Dresden is home to about half a million, most of whom had turned out for the annual Dresden Festival that was being held. Stalls and music crowded the narrow streets between magnificent buildings such as the Frauenkirche, the Opera house and the State Art Collection.

Situated in the latter are the new and historical Green Vaults – holding probably some of the most spectacular treasures in the world. What is left is only a remnant of its former glory, but it is still amazing enough. The vaults were founded by Augustus the Strong in 1723, for whom the words “hoarded treasure” could have been made. Luckily he was very good friends with the Mogul Aurangzeb of India, who, at that time, had the only diamond mine known to man. This proved to be a very fruitful friendship judging from the famous 41 carat green diamond, whose colour was caused by natural radiation, to the 648 (sic) carat sapphire the hermetically sealed rooms twinkled brilliantly.

The other note worthy attraction in Dresden is the Volkswagen Factory of Glass where the Phaeton car is “assembled”. VW got huge tax breaks to build the factory in the middle of the city, which opened in 2002. The building itself is spectacular – the only multi-story car production unit in the world. The cars are just glued together here, the parts are manufactured, trucked and finally trammed in from the rest of Germany. The big issue is that the Phaeton just doesn’t sell well – it is trying to compete in the “D” class with Lexus, Mercedes, BMW etc and in that segment who would go for a VW? As a result the factory is a huge white elephant producing mini white elephants, but the tour was fun and you get to drive in a simulator, where we screamed loudly and crashed spectacularly. Emerging from the simulator complaining the car was “uncontrollable”, the nice VW mans comment was “naturally the car is difficult to handle if you approach the roundabout at 150 km/h”. Red faces all-round, especially as our screams had broadcast all round the visitor center.

From there Dresden we moved on via the interesting rock formations called the “Switzerland of Saxony” to the Saschenbaude wellness hotel in Oberwiesental on the boarder to the Czech Republic. The hotel had been a skin clinic in DDR times, but now converted to a hotel a huge “wellness” area, consisting of pools, fitness equipment and massage studio. The 2 hour hot stone massage was sublime – simply put, it consisted on boiling up a bucket of oil with some stones in it and then rubbing the stones all over your body.

From there we did several day trips in to the Czech Republic to visit the spa towns of Carlsbad and Marienbad. These were well established in Roman times, and were very popular in the 19th century. The towns are full of beautiful ornamental wrought ironwork, painted frescos and huge fountains where the spar water gushes up. The towns have enjoyed a revival recently after appearing in a number of films such as Casino Royal and strolling along the promenade the elegance and friendliness of the people makes me think this was not Mordor – more like Rivendell. Yes, they had hot and cold running water, telephones – even a Tescos – but still all I am saying is the this entire area, like Rivendell, does not have single decent Internet connection.

There are many theories as to why the Mayan people abandoned their remarkable cities on the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico around 1100 AD. These range from climate change; war; drought; the arrival of hoards of Spanish (enough to make anyone make a dash for it) – but after spending 2 weeks in the region, I know the answer: failure to invent handrails. Any civilization that can build huge temples and expects its people to traipse up and down treacherously angled staircases without handrails is asking for demise. Every year there are several deaths on the few staircases that can still be climbed – more than enough reason to retreat to the comparative safety of the level ground of the jungle.

Having said this, the Mayan cities are still pretty awe inspiring today – from Chichen Itza, with its magnificently restored pyramid (with 4 staircases @ 91 steps + 1 step on the top to equal 365), the massive magician’s temple at Uxmal, to the gorgeous beach front property at Tulum – all are engineering marvels in their own rights and along with hundreds of miles of Mayan roads offer a lasting tribute to what was achieved here. As well as these archeological spectacles, we also visited several of the lesser known sites (such as Xlapak, Labna and Sayil) which are still being cleared out of the jungle, but here the novelty wore off quickly. Not only are these really only piles of rubble, the “seen one, seen them all” effect emerges and, as they are deep in the jungle, you return to the car with about half the rain-forest sticking to your shoes, along with associated small mammals, insects and reptiles, which accompany you for the rest of the trip.

Driving in Mexico was quite an experience – we drove about 1,400 kms over 9 days and every kilometer was fraught with danger. Firstly the “roads” are not quite up to European standards. Sure the main highways in the tourist areas are OK, but off the beaten track and driving is like an interactive arcade game, avoiding dangers thrown at you, including pot-holes, encroaching jungle, snakes, iguanas, parakeets and unidentifiable furry things that wiz pass at speed. All these dangers are supplemented at frequent and random intervals with huge “topas” (speed bumps) which gratingly scrape the underside of the car if you go over them faster than about 0.3 km/hour. Also the risk of accidents is quite high – and believe me, you do not want to have an accident in Mexico. Even the most minor knocks can mean weeks in prison, as the police generally round-up and incarcerate anyone who had anything to do with it, including witnesses, until all insurance claims have been settled. Luckily, our car had no identifying features (such as number plates), so if anything had gone wrong I am sure we would have gotten away with it.

During our travels, we stayed in a variety of establishments – from 5 star resort luxury in Cancun to stifling hot, ludicrously expensive beach shacks (cabanas) in Tulum, where you could spend a quiet evening relaxing with about 5,000,000 mosquitoes, mites and spiders, and then lie awake sweating profusely all night. At least, you think, the morning shower will help you wash off the sweat – wrong – the shower disgorged tepid, salty water so you end up leaving the “resort” feeling like a salt stick.

However, the best hotel we stayed at was somewhere between the extremes, the Tierra Maya Hotel in Xcalak – a beach front property in an idyllic location on the southern tip of the Yucatan next to Belize. A single road, 100 kms long through the jungle, connects Xcalak with civilization. Here we stayed for 3 wonderful days snorkeling with an abundance of fish and sting rays, taking an amazing (and risky) boat ride through the reef for a day trip to San Pedro, Belize (a former British colony, so very civilized, they even have the Queen on their money) and eating some of the best food we had in Mexico, such as shrimps the size of your hand. The hotel is so remote, all power is from generators (so no air-con, just a gentle sea breeze) and shower water is re-cycled to water the lush gardens, but it really is a little piece of paradise (as long as the mosquitoes and mites stay away).

Food otherwise in Mexico was surprisingly bland. As a result, restaurants have a cornucopia of salsa and condiments to accompany any meal. They normally have names like “Inferno Flames” or “Combustion Firestorm” and don’t half spice up a meal. These sauces proved to be surprisingly good, especially as, due to my crap Spanish, we were never really 100% sure what food we would get. Even in McDonalds, with its limited menu, we did not always get what we were expecting. Still, everything tastes the same if you put enough Inferno Flame on it.

Mexican life style is very relaxed and enjoyable with life centered around the central plaza that every town seems to have. I don’t expect many people never get to see the “real” Mexico, most people we met just seem to stay in one of the plethora of mega-resorts that are being built everywhere. I can thoroughly recommend vacationing in Mexico and meeting “real” people – we had a perfect mix of adventure, culture and relaxation. Me thinks South America needs more exploring… I am already planning my next trip.

So, the start of yet another year heralds the start of round of sales kick-off meetings at SAP to plan for the year ahead. Each region (US, Europe and Asia-Pacific) plans its own event and gave me the opportunity to contribute to global warming by producing buckets of CO2 emissions by flying to them all.

This year, the US went first and opted for a traditional event in Las Vegas. Great, thinks I, looking at the weather forecast and pack my t-shirt and shorts. Arriving though I realized my mistake – the temperature on Yahoo.com was 29°, but 29° Fahrenheit (-2° Celsius), not my interpretation of 29° Celsius (85° Fahrenheit), but at least I had some warm clothes from Germany. As the hotel hosting the event, the MGM Grand was full (yes, all of the 5,000 rooms, full) I stayed “next door” at the Aladdin / Planet Hollywood / building site – it was originally the Aladdin, but ever more glitzy attractions in Vegas means this hotel is desperately needs of a face lift and boy was it “under construction” i.e. tip. Next door was also a bit of a misnomer; it was a 20 minute walk to the MGM conference center – quite a trek though literally freezing streets. There was ice on the roads every morning, not something you would expect in a region known for its heat.

Europe was second and chose a far more sedate and stylish location – Rome. Elegance, opulence and Italian laissez-fair contrasted starkly with brash and sparkly Las Vegas. I made the mistake of hiring a car. I had forgotten how crap Italian drivers are, but it was bought back with horrible reality in within 2 seconds of leaving the airport parking garage, when the 2 lanes suddenly became 3, then 4 as cars squeezed by. Thank heaven for GPS navigation systems otherwise I am sure I would still be trying to find my way out of the airport.

These 2 locations were, however, trumped by Asia-Pacific who went for Hong Kong – and Ralf, my trusted SAP colleague and I, jumped at the chance to go – even if it was only economy class (ok, we upgraded on the way back). The trip didn’t start off too well; first on the Frankfurt – Munich leg, the steward sprayed coke all over my laptop and then in Munich the plane had a puncture, necessitating a 2 hour delay while the wheels were changed.

It is a good 8 years since I was last in Honkers and not much has really changed, well apart from the airport and a couple more skyscrapers. One small change I noticed was the signage – it is still in English and Mandarin although before the handover it was big English text on top, small Chinese characters underneath, now ALL signs are just the opposite.

The 100% employment guarantee still seems to be still in force – at the conference center, there were about 40 people whose main occupation was pointer. They just smiled at you and pointed you in the right direction, normally toward huge doors marked “in”. We had little time for sightseeing but managed to squeeze a voyage on the Star ferry, as tram ride and a trip up to the peak to see the peak building which was partially designed by my architect brother (it is really nice). We also managed a bit of shopping, but horror stories from people who have been stopped at customs stopped me from splurging on fake watches, badly recorded DVDs and surprisingly expensive hardware. I did get a nice belt and some recommended medicine against insect bites, which I will be using on my next trip – which will be a real vacation – we leave tomorrow I can’t wait.

Recently there have been many celebrity cooks making a mint by flambéing a cumquat with some anchovy paste, chucking in a crawfish tail and garnishing with a couple of quails eggs – so the thought goes, why not give it a whirl (or should that be whisk?)

As my 2nd favourite food in the world is spicy Asian (the first being mum’s lentil soup) the “Thai Wok Course” looked like being a winner and on a rainy Friday night the 1st Mannheim Cooking School opened its doors to us. A shiny work-area lay before us and was home to immaculate bowls, colourful chopping boards, knives and many unidentifiable implements. Utensils were interspersed with fruits, vegetables, meats, fish and bowl of something still moving, which we all subtly shied away from heading towards the bar, where a class of champagne awaited.

Our chef, Timo, was very experienced, having worked all over the world and for several Michelin star chefs. He basically showed us what needed to be done and then stood back watching us, interspacing the chopping with amusing stories of the sometimes violent reaction of 3 star chefs when a customer asks for salt. With this in mind, I neglected to ask for ketchup – or better still some HP sauce – which I am still convinced would have made everything taste much better.

We created a 5 course menu, consisting of:
– Coconut cream soup with shrimps
– Chicken curry with pineapple
– Fried noodles with seafood
– Crispy duck with chili sauce rounded off by
– Banana pancakes and coffee
and created basically everything from scratch, learning a lot as we went along.

I was especially interested in the seafood, so spent much time de-gutting the shrimps and preparing the calamari rings. It was real teamwork as the individual courses slowly emerged, the piles of food were turned in to piles of detritus and the number of dirty utensils used rocketed. (Thankfully, we had a washer-upper who was very adept).

As each course came to fruition, we took a break, ate and then returned to the work-area to complete the next dish. After the soup, it was time to tackle the moving stuff in the bowl. These turned out be Venus mussels, which had to be individually checked for life and then killed in a sauté pan. Luckily they did not scream in death, but popped open as they expired – and they were delicious in the seafood dish.

The entire experience lasted over 6 hours until the coffee was finally served – and each course was superb (although I say so myself). It was also an excellent educational experience – I know the secret to making crispy duck (you have to boil it before you deep fry it), the dos and don’ts of preparing a plethora of seafood and the proper way of handling a number of exotic spices.

I will certainly have a go of preparing some the dishes at home, but really a huge kitchen and many, many utensils are necessary for such a banquet. However, I am available for hire.

So when Germany announced it would host the Football World Cup in 2006, I thought it would be a bit of a wheeze to be part of the fun and applied to work as a volunteer, not dreaming that I would actually make the cut. But surprise! After an exhaustive (well, 20 minutes at least) interview and training program, I was accepted.

I was envisaging my role as a aid to the English team, you know, translating when it came to critical points in the match, sorting out disputes with the referee, handing out towels in the changing room and hanging out at the bar afterwards, but unfortunately it was not to be. Due to my “experience and excellent language skills” I was assigned to the ticket office.

Being an official volunteer had several peripheral benefits. The first is a nice outfit and trainers (emblazoned with Adidas logos). The second was an invitation to the opening ceremony in Frankfurt the week before the first kick-off. The town fathers of Frankfurt spent €3 million on a 35 minute “multi-media spectacle” involving 40 high resolution projectors (of which there are only 60 in the world) – but this issue was what to project on? Well Frankfurt has a load of sky scrapers, so why not use them? Eight screens were erected on skyscraper facades and at as darkness descended at 11 p.m. the light show began. Thousands of people crammed the bridges and river banks to watch pictures of old German footballers scroll languidly across disjointed screens. Not really a worthy effort.

But the matches more than made up for the dreariness of the opening ceremony. All in all, 12 stadiums in Germany hosted 64 world-cup matches. I was assigned to the Frankfurt stadium, the closest to my sunny abode, which hosted five games, four first round and one quarter final.

For the first game (England vs Paraguay) our work call was an early 7 a.m. for a 3 p.m. kickoff. This meant getting up at 5:05 am – far too early, but I was at the stadium at 6:50 for a full tour. The preparations for the game were in full swing, but it was pleasant to watch the camera men setting up, the pitch being mowed, corner flags being scrubbed, the fresh rolls being delivered and the seats being cleaned. The serenity of the early morning arrangements contrasted in the extreme to when the fans flooded in.

Most striking in the stadium was the VIP area. The gorgeously appointed lounges, restaurant, reception and hugely padded seats contrasted nicely with the hard plastic shells and the crappy hot-dogs the plebs had to be content with. FIFA regulations even necessitated physical changes to the stadium for the most VI of the VIPs – FIFA insists that there has to be a least 4 seats “on” the center line. In Frankfurt this meant putting extra chairs in a stairway and rearranging traffic flow. Still, I am sure Prince William appreciated the extra effort.

This was not the only change to the stadium, again due to FIFA regulations, several rows of chairs had to be removed to accommodate press tables, and a prime viewing area was designated so that 10 visually impaired (blind) people could “watch” the match. All these changes played havoc with the ticketing system, as it merrily churned out tickets where the press tables now resided or merrily split handicapped people and their care-givers, placing them in different stands.

There were many other issues we had to cope with, such as the backwards way the ticket allocation worked. People who applied for the ticket lottery had the money immediately debited from their accounts – despite the fact the chances of winning tickets were pretty slim. Many people arrived claiming that the debit on their bank account statements was “proof” they had tickets. This along with the “lost”, “stolen”, “left in lost luggage”, and 101 other sob-stories of people trying to get tickets was fairly draining over the 5 hours before the match. But the ticketing team sorted out all problems, identified numerous con- artists and had several people arrested. Our work done, we then secretly crept in to the stadium with 48,000 other fans.

During the five match days it was fascinating to watch the different behavior of the fans grouped by nationalities; the English happily mobbing the ticketing center, the orderly Koreans sleeping overnight and forming a perfect queue, the Iranians with their weird music, the dancing Brazilian’s joie de vivre and the amazing costumes of all the teams, most noticeable the orange of Holland.

We were lucky enough to see to all of the Frankfurt games with excellent views of the pitch; the last day was slightly marred as England exited the tournament while we were on duty, preparing for the Brazil vs. France game. But the mood was quickly lifted as we were swept away by the tremendous atmosphere in the stadium; despite the only goal being scored was by the French.

All in all a really fun time, with great co-workers and as they say a “once-in-a-lifetime” experience, well, unless I get picked as a volunteer for the 2010 World Cup Tournament in South Africa. My application is in the post.

Let’s face it – eternal youth is a myth, but in my latest attempt to thwart old age, I hit on the idea of traveling to a much later time-zone to grab a few extra hours of being my current age. And it worked! I think I will patent this brilliant idea of postponing a birthday, I could make a mint.

Next, the destination has to be chosen, it had to be west of Europe for a later time-zone, so America was the most obvious candidate and as I wanted to regress in age, there was only one place where you can be a kid again – Disneyworld Orlando. (Luckily I also had some meetings at our annual Sapphire conference there, so I thought why not combine some pleasure with business).

I was especially interested in Orlando, as several new rides had been built since last I was there, one of which had particularly caught my imagination – it was called “Mission: Space”. This was the first ride in Disney with 2 fatalities in the first month of operation and the only ride I had ever been in that supplied sick bags, so I knew it was going to be spectacular.

Arriving at the EPCOT park at 8 a.m., I was there an hour before it opened, but rather than wait outside, I managed to sneak in with the “fairy princess” breakfast crowd and just wondered around for a bit. A Disney park without people is an incredible experience – the parks are not normally a place you would associate with peace and serenity, but when you are alone it is a beautiful and calming place. You are also a voyeur on the preparations and get to see some of the astonishing logistics that such a park takes to run – the stocking of the provisions, the clean-up crews, the security preparation all run with ruthless efficiency. But then the park opens and the tranquility is broken, as literally a wave of people descend on the rides.

Naturally, I was first in line for Mission: Space, which is basically a huge centrifuge that seats forty in 10 four-man pods. You are clamped-in, looking at the latest, high resolution plasma displays, listening to a crystal clear digital stereo system, and play with an interesting array of buttons and switches that make satisfying beeping noises as you push them. The ride lets you experience something approaching the g-forces shuttle astronauts feel as you take off from earth, become weightless, swing by the moon and head towards a bumpy landing on Mars.

The hydraulics and construction of the centrifuge impressed me more than anything. On the 3rd time doing the ride, I did it with my eyes shut to try and feel the motion and understand how it works. You feel a very slight lateral movement as the centrifuge starts to turn and then, but then the g-force kicks in and you are pushed back in you seat. The ride lives up to its reputation – it is spectacularly nauseating. On average there are about 3 clean-up “incidents” a day, going up when it is particularly hot. Nothing too pukey happened on my rides, but the woman next to me said it was a close thing. I think “The Vomitron” is a much better name than Mission: Space.

The ride did not make it in to my “top 5 rides” list, but I thought it better to check out the five that did to make sure they had not lost anything of their lure. And indeed they had not. The Hulk rollercoaster was still as loopy as ever, Spiderman still jumps on your car as you glide past the Daily Planet and the lift (elevator) in the Hollywood Tower of Terror plunges you 8 stories in to the abyss. Heaven.

Then it was back to work and my colleagues surprised me with champagne and a huge cake, made up of layers of chocolate sponge, chocolate moose, covered with a thick layer of chocolate and decorated with chocolate slivers and “Happy Birthday Ian” written in, of all things, white chocolate. They are lovely people and seem to know me pretty well.

But then I discovered a fundamental flaw in my plans for eternal youth – you loose the time gained and become six hours older on the way back. Bummer. Still, I still feel young at heart even if the outward appearance is starting to show its cracks.

STOP PRESS: I did not do any major presentations this year, and the write up of a renowned computer industry analyst about my absence can be read by clicking here.. (see #10)

When Sergey Prokofiev penned the Peter and the Wolf Symphony and story in 1934, he created a classical piece with 7 characters, each skillfully represented by a specific instrument or instrumental family. Peter, for example, is portrayed by the strings, the bird by a flute, the hunters by the percussion and the wolf by the bassoons.

The score underlines a story that in itself is not difficult to grasp – a bored young boy, Peter (1), staying with grandfather (2) goes out in to the forbidden meadow, where he meets a fantastically handsome, mesmerizingly talented bird (3) who gets in to a spat with a duck (4). Whilst the birds are arguing a cat (5) creeps out and scares the birds. The commotion brings out grandpa, who takes Peter back inside. A wolf (6) then emerges from the forest and eats the duck – Peter decides to catch the wolf and with the help of the gallant, heroic bird succeeds. The hunters (7) arrive and instead of shooting the wolf they parade him to a zoo.

So now you are the director and want to put this production on stage: about 30 excellent and keen actors have turned up for audition and you need to create a reasonably long (say, at least 45 minute) theater piece. As Ron the director, what do you do? What do you do? Obviously, some serious padding is needed – so why not change the production in to a multimedia spectacle with live actors, shadow puppets, models, hand puppets and marionettes. And to accommodate the number of actors, why not double up? How about 2 wolves, 3 ducks, 6 hunters and loads of birds and let’s throw in a grandma as a narrator. Well, that is how it happened, just how it happened.

If you had not guessed, I played the bird. Now, this being me, I was not going to be an ordinary bird, no way, I was going to be a plump strange and beautiful bird (I particularly like the beautiful bit). So construction began. As with all the models, it started with a wire frame, to which foam was added and finally hundreds of feathers were individually hot-glued on to the body. The wings were controlled by hidden sticks under the body and the beak moved via my index finger. The construction of all the puppets literally took months and was lead by the multi-talented Eric and a team of willing helpers.

As the premiere drew closer, let’s just say putting the puppets and cast and set and lighting and music and acting and dialogue together was a little more daunting than anticipated. So rather than give the audience of rendition “Peter-and-the-rather-ropey-half-finished-wolf-story” opening night was postponed for a couple of weeks. But it was worth the wait.

At the premiere, the show really came together, much to everyone’s relief. The audiences were enchanted and the visual effects really shone through. As well as 2 packed performances for the local school kids, we also put on one show for handicapped children – which was extra-special. At the end of show the puppeteers mingled with the audience to show off the puppets and the amazement and joy in the eyes was really a sight to behold (except where the wolf was concerned, there was always a rather large cordon around him as the children slowly backed away).

Seven performances later and the show sadly came to an end but also a little of a relief. My beautiful bird had been progressively molting during the performances, leaving a vivid trail of pink feathers and the beak was not quite as stable as at the beginning of the run, two ducks were also quackless. Still as ever, a very pleasurable experience thanks to a superb cast and crew, adept at resolving any type of conflict.