After four posts in Africa this year (Tunis, Casablanca, Gambia & Sierra Leone) the final outing comes from Europe.
I'm going Dutch this morning, no guest runner. Instead, you are all invited as my individual Christmas partner. We're in Holland. It's the festive season.
Visitors flock to Amsterdam for the outstanding museums and galleries (not me). Perhaps, to gaze wistfully at the miles of canals (not me). To ride antiquated ‘sit up and beg’ steel bikes with baskets (not me). To legally partake in high-quality Ganga (not me), or possibly to enjoy the historic red light district (er, not me). Others come for risk management conferences (c'est moi).
First, let's have the sad news out of the way. You'll have seen the recent events in Zimbabwe. Sadly, and due to the unexpected demise of 'Mad Bob' I have had to officially retire one of my favourite jokes. It's final outing...
Earlier this year I was sat on a bus at Lungi Airport, in Sierra Leone. A typical West African scene in many ways. Hot and steamy and noise everywhere. Hawkers were busily parading alongside the open bus windows selling sim cards, phone top-up, black market currency exchange, soft drinks, etc.
I engage two bright entrepreneurs trying to break into show business (long story).
"Here's a joke you can use," They look at me...
"Teresa May, Donald Trump & Robert Mugabe are in a lifeboat. Their ship has sunk, they are the only survivors."
I continued, "There's only one lifejacket. Teresa May says let's do the democratic thing and vote on who should have it. We'll all write a name on a piece of paper. We'll stuff the papers inside this coffee tin. Whoever receives the most votes has the jacket."
Several people on the bus are now listening.
I continue, "The results. Teresa May has 1 vote. Donald Trump has 1 vote." I pause for effect, "Robert Mugabe has... 7 votes."
I await their reaction. Nothing. The hawkers stare at me. They stare at each other. I repeat the punch line.
One of them says with no hint of irony, "Well, Mugabe wins the lifejacket." Then a woman's voice rings out from the back of the bus, "It's corruption you fools."
The joke has outlived several western leaders, but the central glue was always Robert Mugabe. No longer.
Today's jaunt around this beautiful city begins right outside my hotel. The Toren is well-known and highly rated on Tripe Advisor, I recommend it highly. Amongst the boutique luxury, the hotel has two advertised 'very small rooms', 11m squared. After booking a 'tiny room,' the hotel emailed me twice requiring confirmation I was aware I'd booked a 'tiny room' and reemphasised its limited dimensions.
Of course, a place like this doesn't have mice, if they did they'd be hunchbacked. It was tiny. Shall we get to it? Time and tide wait for no man…
Dark O clock. 0550 hrs. We need to be back, showered, and at brekkie by 0700. I have a conference at the W hotel to attend.
First stop is Anne Frank House. 200 yards from the hotel. Unfortunately, there’s no time to visit formally; this trip is an in and out affair. I’ll return I’m sure.
The streets of downtown Amsterdam are deserted; the only noise is an early morning tram or two. It’s bitterly cold at minus 5. I run alongside the tree-lined black inky canals. I zigzag over the bridges which are plentiful. I’ve read there are over 1200 bridges in Amsterdam. At one bridge a day it’d take a while to cross them all.
Apart from the trams, the other type of transport is bikes, even at this hour. Cars are few and far between. It might be the fact it costs up to 60 Euros a day to park in this area.
Let’s head over to Central Station and the harbour area. Nearby is the district I want. Wallen. 0615 hrs. There is culture everywhere, albeit a little different. I jog past the museums of Prostitution, Eroticism, and Cannabis. I should be jogging past the Van Gogh museum. I’ll return I’m sure.
The famous Red-Light District is in one of the oldest parts of the city. It’s been here since the 14th Century. Today Amsterdam is well-known for its liberal and tolerant attitude. Prostitution, soft drugs, pornography, all decriminalised.
The red neon lights above the establishments tell us where we are. There are apparently around 300 windows where women ‘work’. Some of these small rooms are smaller than my tiny room. Thankfully everyone is asleep now.
Right, let’s get back to town to find the W Hotel, so I’m ready for the conference.
Two days later... a quick shout-out to the CSO360 team for organising such a superb event. With special thanks to Sara, Clive & Sanna – well done all, great work. I’ll see you next year either in Vienna or Berlin. I understand they came top of the poll. So much for my choice, Norwich.
Last year I signed off with Santa Claus mirroring life. You believe in him, you are him, and finally, you look like him. My youngest had to be told this year which now means the end of phase two. Mind you, she is 27.
It's Christmas Eve 2017. I'll sign off with the Pogues and Kirsty McCall...
"And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas Day."
In closing; Merry Christmas, and may this New Year bring you all joy and laughter.
Ladies and gentlemen, you've been a fantastic audience this year. My name is Mark R. I'm here for the occasional blog. Please tip your waitresses (or better still, if you like the blog, write a comment below).
I'm going Dutch this morning, no guest runner. Instead, you are all invited as my individual Christmas partner. We're in Holland. It's the festive season.
Visitors flock to Amsterdam for the outstanding museums and galleries (not me). Perhaps, to gaze wistfully at the miles of canals (not me). To ride antiquated ‘sit up and beg’ steel bikes with baskets (not me). To legally partake in high-quality Ganga (not me), or possibly to enjoy the historic red light district (er, not me). Others come for risk management conferences (c'est moi).
First, let's have the sad news out of the way. You'll have seen the recent events in Zimbabwe. Sadly, and due to the unexpected demise of 'Mad Bob' I have had to officially retire one of my favourite jokes. It's final outing...
Earlier this year I was sat on a bus at Lungi Airport, in Sierra Leone. A typical West African scene in many ways. Hot and steamy and noise everywhere. Hawkers were busily parading alongside the open bus windows selling sim cards, phone top-up, black market currency exchange, soft drinks, etc.
I engage two bright entrepreneurs trying to break into show business (long story).
"Here's a joke you can use," They look at me...
"Teresa May, Donald Trump & Robert Mugabe are in a lifeboat. Their ship has sunk, they are the only survivors."
I continued, "There's only one lifejacket. Teresa May says let's do the democratic thing and vote on who should have it. We'll all write a name on a piece of paper. We'll stuff the papers inside this coffee tin. Whoever receives the most votes has the jacket."
Several people on the bus are now listening.
I continue, "The results. Teresa May has 1 vote. Donald Trump has 1 vote." I pause for effect, "Robert Mugabe has... 7 votes."
I await their reaction. Nothing. The hawkers stare at me. They stare at each other. I repeat the punch line.
One of them says with no hint of irony, "Well, Mugabe wins the lifejacket." Then a woman's voice rings out from the back of the bus, "It's corruption you fools."
The joke has outlived several western leaders, but the central glue was always Robert Mugabe. No longer.
Today's jaunt around this beautiful city begins right outside my hotel. The Toren is well-known and highly rated on Tripe Advisor, I recommend it highly. Amongst the boutique luxury, the hotel has two advertised 'very small rooms', 11m squared. After booking a 'tiny room,' the hotel emailed me twice requiring confirmation I was aware I'd booked a 'tiny room' and reemphasised its limited dimensions.
Of course, a place like this doesn't have mice, if they did they'd be hunchbacked. It was tiny. Shall we get to it? Time and tide wait for no man…
Dark O clock. 0550 hrs. We need to be back, showered, and at brekkie by 0700. I have a conference at the W hotel to attend.
First stop is Anne Frank House. 200 yards from the hotel. Unfortunately, there’s no time to visit formally; this trip is an in and out affair. I’ll return I’m sure.
The streets of downtown Amsterdam are deserted; the only noise is an early morning tram or two. It’s bitterly cold at minus 5. I run alongside the tree-lined black inky canals. I zigzag over the bridges which are plentiful. I’ve read there are over 1200 bridges in Amsterdam. At one bridge a day it’d take a while to cross them all.
Apart from the trams, the other type of transport is bikes, even at this hour. Cars are few and far between. It might be the fact it costs up to 60 Euros a day to park in this area.
Let’s head over to Central Station and the harbour area. Nearby is the district I want. Wallen. 0615 hrs. There is culture everywhere, albeit a little different. I jog past the museums of Prostitution, Eroticism, and Cannabis. I should be jogging past the Van Gogh museum. I’ll return I’m sure.
The famous Red-Light District is in one of the oldest parts of the city. It’s been here since the 14th Century. Today Amsterdam is well-known for its liberal and tolerant attitude. Prostitution, soft drugs, pornography, all decriminalised.
The red neon lights above the establishments tell us where we are. There are apparently around 300 windows where women ‘work’. Some of these small rooms are smaller than my tiny room. Thankfully everyone is asleep now.
Right, let’s get back to town to find the W Hotel, so I’m ready for the conference.
Two days later... a quick shout-out to the CSO360 team for organising such a superb event. With special thanks to Sara, Clive & Sanna – well done all, great work. I’ll see you next year either in Vienna or Berlin. I understand they came top of the poll. So much for my choice, Norwich.
Last year I signed off with Santa Claus mirroring life. You believe in him, you are him, and finally, you look like him. My youngest had to be told this year which now means the end of phase two. Mind you, she is 27.
It's Christmas Eve 2017. I'll sign off with the Pogues and Kirsty McCall...
"And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas Day."
In closing; Merry Christmas, and may this New Year bring you all joy and laughter.
Ladies and gentlemen, you've been a fantastic audience this year. My name is Mark R. I'm here for the occasional blog. Please tip your waitresses (or better still, if you like the blog, write a comment below).
