I've been back in West Africa 7 weeks following a 14-month travel hiatus. An 'inconclusive' covid result today means the planned 7 weeks will inevitably extend. I'm now self-isolating in The Gambia, waiting to see what next weeks test brings. Hopefully, negative all the way. Then home...
The most recent post on the blog was in late March 2020 (Djerba, Tunisia). That trip climaxed in a repatriation flight to a locked-down Paris.
All new material is coming soon following some fantastic experiences on this trip, including 'Another Early Morning Run in... Banjul', starring 'Cameo' - the same guest runner from 2017.
Above, where the recent Banjul run was planned (CoCo Ocean Hotel).
Meanwhile, an outtake below from a European post before Covid.
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It doesn’t take long before one of the old-school (sat next to me - damn) makes a perceived salty, off-colour remark. Someone from Google is offended and stands and states just how offended she is. Was her point to do with investor venture capital in deepest Africa and the associated risks. No, and while she’s up and everyone’s listening, there’s, of course, another bugbear. Opportunities for women in the higher echelons of risk management. Blah blah blah... old boys clubs, same military & police backgrounds. I challenge her; in my head, it’s a company right to hire who they want. The right mix of qualifications and experience. The best person for the job. That told her.
Times, they are a changing. These get-togethers are meant to exchange ideas, trends, networking, oiled by the frequent clinking of glasses, war stories, and laughing deep into the night. Old school.
There were always speakers and subjects you’d have to take a pass in the good old days. When I say take a pass, I mean ‘take a conference call’ with corporate HQ, a crisis in wherever. In reality, a spot of Egyptian PT (on your bed) to catch up from the night before. The afternoon pass to fit in a quick gym session ahead of another night of the night before. Old school.
This conference brought a new dynamic. Enter the quisling. The convert. The one who’s gone to the dark side. 20 plus years in the UK police. Now embarking on a 2nd career in big tech on the security side. He opens with a confessional about his first career and how much better and enlightened things are in the Google world. Maybe it’s the playing ping pong all day and going down kids slides in the afternoon that has addled his brain. I’m not hanging around to find out. Pick up the phone and hand signal gestures heading for the exit, whispering into the non-responsive phone halfway across the auditorium, outta here. Old school.
As the conference breaks up, I promise myself I’m done. No more of this BS. I need to get to the airport, congestion and rush hour, chaos trying to get a taxi. Might miss the plane.
A shout from a car in traffic, a guys head is out the window. It’s the Google convert, Ben. He shouts, jump in, you won’t make the airport (I’d rather jog the 15 miles to the airport on bare feet).
I jog over to the car; 2 Googlelites, the other is the woman (Jen) with the bugbear. Hey, jump in; you won’t get a taxi now, she says.
Being a man of principle, “Thanks very much, very kind of you.”
They reintroduce themselves. For some reason, I say my name is Ken. It sets me up for the icebreaker. Deepwater, here we go, “ah… Benny, Jenny & Kenny”. They look at me.
Ken, did you enjoy the conference? We both really enjoyed your presentation, says Jen.
We fumble around for business cards. Hey, says Jenny... you’re Mark on your card. Oh yeah, Kenny’s a nickname, an army thing, everyone has a handle, yes I’m Mark...
Changing tack, “Ben, I loved every minute of your presentation; very informative. Very interesting. Google sounds wonderful.”
We arrive at the airport. “Thanks for paying for the taxi, Ben - most kind.” I’m on a roll with my new amigo’s, “Hey, listen, I appreciate the ride. I know a small bar in the airport; let me buy you both a drink before we say goodbye?” They look at each other...
Jen says, “We’d love to, but we have a crisis brewing and need to dial in.”
I smile, thinking maybe we’re not so different after all. OK, one more conference, and then I’m done. New school.
New post from Banjul coming later this week...
