Pampered in the Pampas

Having picked up another new companion (Julian is fast fading in my memory like a bad dream), it's off to Argentina this time to attend the South America Business Forum.  My partner in crime is Cezary Tarnowski, erstwhile Business Finance student at Aber and a general good egg.  Considering he persuaded three different departments of the University to help finance this trip, I would guess he'll go far in financial circles.

Buenos Aires (known as BA to the cogniscenti) is quite cold at this time of year, but the welcome is warm and Cezary is a bundle of energy, insisting on a quick sight-seeing tour as soon as we've got out of the airport.   On the city tour I was made much of, as is only proper, with many questions as to my origin which allowed both of us to wax lyrical on the subject of the wonderful College by the Sea.

Next day was full tilt into the Business Forum.  I should point out that attendance at this event has to be earned and our friend Cezary had written an essay which was so highly regarded he was one of only one hundred delegates from amongst the three thousand who applied.  I did not need to write an essay, as a VIS (Very Important Sheep), but was interviewed by the Chairman of the Forum as the official representative of the University and in order that the delegates could fully appreciate the value of lamb in the world economy.

Argentina is a bit too "beefy" for my taste, cows being about as welcome to me as mint sauce, but the people are extremely pleasant for all that and this Forum has certainly attracted some very senior business types to be grilled by the students.  I sat through sessions on Web 2.0 (didn't quite get my head around that one), marketing, innovation and even on the future of mankind with a senior General Electric executive.  I asked him if androids dreamt of electric sheep but he just smiled condescendingly.

Now, I'm being stuffed (somewhat unceremoniously) back into Cezary's suitcase for the return journey.  A short, but very full, visit of only three days and then its back to the sweltering heat of an Aber summer (stop laughing, you!).

Robert Peston scoops the n'ewes

At Aber Graduation.  Sweet little lambs that they are, all fresh-faced and dumplings ready for the big bad world with a degree of confidence.  My old mucker Robert Peston is here to receive a Fellowship.  The official photographer, however, was clear as to who is the real VIP which is why the photo below has me in full glory but only half of Bobby's face! 

It's hot in Aber this week (when is it not, I hear you ask?), so hot that the magnificent Aber Arts Centre, where we hold these august proceedings even though it's still July, is wilting the willing alumni staff who are manning the stand dispersing goody bags full of freebies to the graduands.  Louise, the Alumni Manager, is trying to convince anyone and everyone to fan her with copies of Prom.  Try it with a woolly coat, I tell her, even one that is barely recovering from the depredations of the phantom sheep shearer.

I did manage to bump into some Japanese distant cousins (okay, so they are bears and I'm a baa but it's close enough) who agreed to pose with me.  Their kimonos were a delight.

Over two thousand new alumni are joining the fold this week, and I am presiding over eight degree ceremonies to get them all scrolled and gowned.  There's more mortar boards here than at the Olympics building site.

I'm off to Argentina soon, attending a prestigious conference where I shall attempt to wean the Argies off leathery beef and onto mouth-watering, succulent, tender and sweet lambikins.  Got to do my bit for the Welsh Lamb Marketing Board after all.

Lamb Vindaloo

It's hot, folks.  Summer has arrived in Aberystwyth, gateway to the West.  The sky is that particular blue one only gets in Cardigan Bay, the sea is glinting with its reflected glory and the beer-glasses on the Pier shine with a scintillating azure hue as a result.

You would think life was serene, then, wouldn't you?  Well, it would have been, but then some myopic muck-spreader who should have gone to Specsavers grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and I was unceremoniously shorn.  This, despite the fact that I shall be travelling to the southern hemisphere straight after Graduation where it is WINTER!!!  Then there is the question of modesty - its little short of embarrasing to have all one's clothes cut off in front of all of the these sunbathers in skimpy doodads.

The Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall are visiting west Wales this week - imagine my embarrassment if they turn up in my field with me looking like this?  And it's the Vice Chancellor's final graduation before he retires in July.  What is he going to make of my bald bonce?  The sooner I am in South America where a thong is regarded as being almost over-dressed the better!

Brass monkeys and couch potatoes

Ye Gods, but it's nippy round here.  I have ditched Julian (for which relief much thanks) and have now tied up with a much more compassionate partner in Dr Bethan Williams.  This has distinct advantages:  first of all, she's a Doctor (i.e. she has brains) and secondly she is a she which allows me more sympathetic treatment.

We are now down in the South Atlantic which, although it's what they laughingly refer to as "Summer", is still perishing.  It's a good thing, after all, that I didn't get a woolcut when I was in Australia.  My coat is definitely essential here.

We headed off to Signy Island in the South Orkneys (like the North Orkneys but without Peter Maxwell Davies and fewer Ceilidhs) to drop off some Italian scientists and where we bumped into a family of elephant seals.  These reminded me mostly of Julian in front of the tele.  Huge lumps of blubber doing absolutely nothing for large parts of the day.

I'm the small white object on the grating which gives you some idea just how big these less than attractive monsters are.  Even less appealing are the fur seals which are rather like dogs insofar as they bark at you and are very agile and strong.  Readers will appreciate that dogs that can slap are less than my favourite lifeforms.

More conducive to my wellbeing were the penguins - different types were on view including colonies of adele and chinstrap varieties as well as some visiting gentoo- and lots of other avian cousins ... skuas, terns, and giant petrels amongst others.  Having enjoyed the opportunity to stretch my legs (they are small so they need all the stretching they can get) we have now re-embarked and are on our way to James Ross Island which I presume is where they manufacture frozen fish fingers.

More soon .....

Dubai Dubai Do

I began this blog with a photo of myself framed against the Boston skyline.  It seems only right, therefore, to end it with another cityscape, this time the futuristic skyline of Dubai. 

I've been slightly nervous here, because Gulf citizens have been known to like a piece of slowly-cooked mutton and there have been a few glances at me wherein the smiles have more of a gastronomic rather than garrulous feel about them.   I've tried to hint that there is more than a touch of scabies in my family in the hope that this will make me a little less attractive to any Emirate epicureans.

This is again a city state of extraordinary variety wherein the nations of the world mix and deal with equanimity.  If there remains an old Dubai, I haven't seen it.  Mile upon mile of state of the art infrastructure supporting architecture which is frankly mind-boggling.  Julian was here over a decade ago and yet he recognised but one building, the iconic Sail which still dominates one part of the skyline.  Today, however, one cannot but be drawn again and again to the huge stalactite which stands like an alien cathedral soaring to the heavens in the centre of the city and which quite cowed this sheep.

We adjourned to the roof terrace of the grand ("grand"?  I'm not sure Dubai has anything but "grand") Royal Mirage hotel for the last reception of the tour.  George Stodhard, whose original idea this venue was, sat shivering in temperatures of about 20C and received scant sympathy.  Abbas Yousafzai was our host and, although working all the way down the coast at Abu Dhabi, graced the event with his charming wife.  Peter Hill, HM of the prestigious Dubai College, and Andrew Bone, who runs Hill and Knowlton throughout the region, also attended and made many pertinent and perspicacious comments and suggestions.  The extremely beautiful Wedad bin Braik was joined by her husband, as was Karen Craig who, as a Kiwi, seemed to have got almost as much pleasure out of the Poms stuffing the Aussies as Julian had.  Finally, Graeme Mullin (our man at the FO) and Alun Epps (working for Middlesex University but we'll forgive him) made up the extremely enjoyable party.

So, how to sum up this trip?  Well, human-sheep relations have been put under strain at various times, certainly between me and Julian, and I would urge everyone to lobby heavily for an improvement in the conditions under which ovine transport is regulated.  I've travelled in a briefcase, a carrier bag, with dirty washing, even in the hold of an aircraft on occasion, with no hint of an apology from the fat controller (sorry, Development Director).

On the other hand, alumni relations for Aber has been the big winner.  We've made so many friends, rekindled so many memories, encouraged so much support and created the skeleton of a truly mutually beneficial alumni network worldwide that there is no doubt of the success of the whole enterprise.  Now, Julian has a shed-load of work to do to ensure that the University lives up to its promises and continues to support this network, especially for the younger graduates who will need our help so much in the current economic climate.

Now it's off to the airport, another insufferable flight for me and Julian wondering if there's a movie on the plane he hasn't already seen during the fifteen flights we have taken since November 26th.  Thanks for reading my musings.  I'm off to Antarctica soon so look for me in the frozen food counter as well hopefully a new blog.

Hong Kong Fluey

Now, I know that I might have ruffled a few feathers when I said that Singapore was the most cosmopolitan place on Earth, especially amongst the Hong Kong fraternity.  Now that I'm here in HK, I had better smooth said feathers a bit.

Hong Kong is amazing.  It's still as vibrant, as exciting, as twenty-four hour and as organised an apparent chaos as one is ever going to find.  We are, unfortunately, back in the land of concrete-footwear as far as cab drivers are concerned, allied to an almost suicidal tendency towards lane-changing manoeuvres and automatic transmissions that are well past their use-by date, but that is all a part of the magic of this little island of capitalism.  It is, however, when all is said and done also unmistakeably Chinese, despite the best efforts of 150 years of British rule which ended, let us not forget, only 13 years ago.  Many different nationalities make their home here, do business here, and stamp their imprint on the place, but it is still a part of China.

Talking of different nationalities, I would mention in passing that throughout my long and varied travels, there has been one language which has slightly disturbed me in the regularity with which I have heard it ... French!  There is definitely a gentle move by the French to take over the world.  They are everywhere, trying to establish a hegemony of claret and grenouilles.  I think the media should investigate this new phenomenon before we are all lambs dressed as mouton!

But back to Hong Kong.  I persuaded Julian to take a photo which, I feel, sums up this business-led society.

What's so special about this, you may ask?  Well, where else in the world can one imagine a Rolls Royce dealership nextdoor to a Burger King?

In any event, it's off to the restrained opulence of the famed Hong Kong Club for the alumni reception.  Here the youthful Giles Surman (his phrase) and his delightful alumna wife Julia (Julian's phrase) host a wonderful event.  Edith Lam brings gifts and a sparky enthusiasm from the iCable corporate library where she runs the show (quite literally). 

Talk was rife about the good old days at Aber and the select audience were suitably appreciative of a well-travelled ewe.  Offers of future help were forthcoming and I can assure any Aber grad landing on these shores of a warm and supportive welcome.

Now it's another cosmopolitan centre, this time a newer one in the Gulf.  Dubai, here we come on the last leg of our round the world in 40 days.

Cuddly Kuala

Readers of this erudite exposition of travel and sheepiness will be aware that there have been many surprises, delights and reasons to be proud of our Aber alumni on our long Odyssey.  Nothing, however, (and I mean "Nothing!") had prepared us for the sheer enthusiasm, passion and love for the College by the Sea of our Malaysian alumni.  Nor had we really appreciated just how welcoming a whole country can be until we arrived in the bustling, humid and fascinating city of Kuala Lumpur.

Julian had an inkling of this when he first met Jamal Hassim, actually a Singapore resident but on business in KL at the right moment, who was full of support, enthusiasm and good ideas.  But when he was honoured by a visit to his hotel by Tan Sri Arshad Ayub, the full extent became clear.  Tan Sri Ayub is a difficult man to describe: this is because he has excelled in so many and various aspects of Malaysian life.  At 82, he is as spry as a man half his age, has a keen intelligence and dynamic quality which makes you feel that here is someone who gets things done.  He is regarded as the father of the Malaysian technological university (now known as UiTM) where he was the director for ten years, the lead inspiration in the development of the ACCA accounting qualification in Malaysia, was a deputy Finance Minister, deputy Governor of a national bank, Chairs the Board of the University of Malaysia, sits in unnumerable boards of private and public companies, and is generally, and rightly, revered throughout the country.  Oh yes, and he thought highly enough of Aber to come across town to spend two hours with Julian and blew his socks off!


This was but a hint of what was to come, however.  The current president of the Alumni Club in Malaysia, Nasharuddin Hussin, was on hand at the meeting with Tan Sri Ayub, and could not do enough for us (even to the extent of giving us a lift to the airport the morning after the alumni dinner which is no mean feat when the airport is over an hour's drive away).  He and his energetic committee had organised a dinner at a lakeside restaurant in KL and Julian's office had suggested that up to 78 alumni might attend.  Julian suitably wrote his speech (or the closest he ever comes to writing a speech) to announce that this was the largest, by a factor of four, of any of the events held on this trip. 

As it turned out, over 100 guests turned up through the notorious KL traffic jams to welcome us and to enjoy a sumptuous feast of delicious seafood (sheep are not averse to the odd squid, I can tell you).  Julian had the numeracy to work out this was therefore in fact a five-fold increase in any other event on this trip.  Even Tri San Ayub made a welcome late appearance having left a wedding reception on the other side of the city.  Other distinguished attendees included past Presidents of the club and senior figures in commerce and industry, but equally a welcome and large contingent of young recent Aber graduates including a particularly loud and enthusiastic group of 2008 graduates and Jasmine Ong from the 2009/10 Aber Annual Fund telephone calling team.  Her calling was much better than her car maintenance as her flat battery after the dinner showed!

Speeches flowed, as did the sweat on Julian who was, as usual, dreadfully overdressed, and even Nasharuddin managed to keep his comments to under an hour (apparently a record).  Gifts were exchanged and I, who, as usual, was more popular than Julian, was handled by great personages and attractive young ladies with due respect and dignity throughout.

Tan Sri Arshad Ayub  and I flanked by past Presidents Fariz Abu Bakar and Datuk Zawiyah Baba
(former DG of the Malaysian National Library) [apologies to current President Nasharuddin Hussin who's face Julian managed to cut in two when taking this photo hence the cropping]

Singapore slings like a pendulum do

Julian is definitely starting to feel the pressure of six weeks on the road.  This blog is woefully late in appearing simply because he won't get the laptop out and I can't reach the plug to do it myself.  If he thinks this is tough, just try growing a woolly coat every year.

Anyway, Singapore is a fascinating city/state.  Its legendary neatness, good order and low crime rate notwithstanding, it is the truly cosmopolitan nature of the place which always stands out.  I know I'm going to get it in the withers for saying this is probably the most cosmopolitan place in the world (especially from the Hong Kongers where we travel later in the week), but it is certainly up there in the internationalist stakes and will take some beating.

It has also grown tremendously since Julian was last here.  Where ten years ago barges were dumping landfill into the sea, now there looms the most expensive hotel/casino in the world (to build, that is - there are probably one hundred cramped hotels in Manhattan who charge more to stay!) which is probably familiar to anyone who has watched the Singapore Grand Prix on TV.  It looks remarkably like the W.A.S.P. headquarters from Stingray!

The best asset Singapore has, however, is undoubtedly Duncan Edwards, our host, organiser and adviser who set up a highly enjoyable evening at a cool bar in the imposing One Raffles Quay complex - similarly a new addition to the Singapore skyline.  As we've come to expect, the event was marked by purposeful and pertinent questioning from the attendees who ranged from a Singapore Airlines captain to a super-spook from Control Risks.

(As a byline, what is it about Aber that creates these world experts in security and risk management?  I've met them in three continents now.  At Aber, the biggest security risk is that one leaves one's wallet in the back of a cab or that one falls into the sea after having one over the eight!)

Duncan had festooned the walls of the private room with A3 photos of Aber, both now and way back when he was a student (I won't embarrass him by saying when - I'll just say that the Austin A40 vans looked very quaint).  Seeing the Arts Centre just after it was built was certainly an eye-opener.  As usual, the event over-ran and it was only with difficulty that we extracted ourselves for long enough to grab a few hours of sleep before the early departure for Kuala Lumpur.

Ruminating on and in Australia

It has been a highly frustrating festive period.  Once Julian had completed his Perth duties (except for a wonderful dinner with alumni John Watts, Roger and Gay Dean and John's delightful missus), he relegated me to the hotel room for most of the next two weeks.  If you've ever suffered 40 degrees Celsius in a plastic Aber carrier bag, you will appreciate the suffering I have gone through.

Nevertheless, with a mixture of the occasional outing and long discussions with Julian, watching Aussie television and having to hear the nattering of the chambermaids, I do feel able to make a few sage observations on life Down Under.

To begin with, there is the fauna.  I know that I have more cousins here than everybody in Wales has had hot dinners, but they are imports.  I'm talking here about the indigenous fauna.  To start with, there are the birds.  Outwardly, a lot of them bear similarities to those we see in Wales.  They all appear rather more streamlined, however, with rakish lines and longer bodies.  It's a bit like comparing a Ford Popular with a 1963 Chevvy.  They have crows, ravens, magpies and seagulls - but all with T-bird Fins.  Then there are the ones one won't see in Aber - the parakeets, parrots and, God forgive us, Kookaburras.  To misquote Ogden Nash, they "sound like ... a hepcat on a harmonica."  Another simile might be to relate them to hooting monkeys in an African jungle.  Certainly, Julian reckons they followed him around the golf course, awaiting every bad shot before launching into another hysterical cackle and hoot.

Then there are kangaroos.  If you are misguided enough to believe that sheep are stupid, you have to come to Oz and see the Roos.  Most Australians, certainly in anything remotely resembling the Outback, have great big "bullbars" on the front of their cars because no Roo has the sense to get out of the way of an oncoming vehicle.  Indeed, they have an unnerving habit of jumping out in front of cars in the dusk and becoming spectacular roadkill.  They infested the first golf course Julian played on (see below) and had to be herded away from the balls using a golf buggy.

The image of a little Joey enjoying a ride around in its mother's pouch is also codswallop.  They are too stupid to enjoy the ride and dive in head first so that the only thing you see sticking out are the back legs.

The most dangerous animal in Western Australia, however, is undoubtedly the humble cricket.  Unlike the chirp-chirp sound of the more well-known of this genera, WA crickets sounds rather like two ball-bearings being clacked together.  This is unfortunate, since this is also the sound made by the pelican crossings to aid blind people.  They clack slowly when the signal is on red, and then speed up when the green man appears, thus informing the visually-challenged that it is safe to cross.    Tragically, the crickets also have variable-timing.

The other big difference, apart from the Roos, when playing golf in Australia is that the usual coarse golfer in the UK spends a good part of their day rooting around in the undergrowth searching for a wayward tee shot.  Not so in Oz.  The first time Julian wandered into the bush he was immediately dragged back by a white-faced friend with the hissed warning of "Snakes!!".  It's not that one can see them, you understand, it's just that they have a nasty habit of snoozing under bushes and have been known to take a nice venomous bite out of any tasty ankle which disturbs them passing by.  It is therefore little short of miraculous that Julian, having bought a dozen balls for his first game, played four times in all and has returned with nine of them.  You'll be pleased to know that, like the Ashes, we triumphed.

Perth is regarded by all that live there as little short of Paradise on Earth.  They have a point.  The weather is simply awesome, they have mostly all made a lot of money from the explosion (if that's not too unfortunate a reference) of mining, oil and gas, and they live in homes that would make the average Roman senator envious.  Property prices have skyrocketed, share-dealing in penny mining stocks that can blossom overnight is almost universal, and the quality of life is something quite extraordinary.  Playing bridge with 31 others in someone's garden on New Year's Eve was quite surreal, as was visiting the Pinnacles (a sort of natural Stonehenge in the desert) and the magnificent beaches.

So, with the Aussies still crying into their ice-cold lagers over the triumph of the Barmy Army, we go back to work and travel to Singapore, where the temperature will be close to 10C lower but the humidity will make it feel vastly more uncomfortable.  Tune in again for news of the world's most international city.