Really Really Big Industries, Inc.

Apologies if this rambles a bit—it’s been a wacky 48 hours. Bombay day #2 was great, headed over to New Bombay actually for our shoot–excellent interview. Crazy driving in Bombay. In fact, I’m convinced that all automobile travel in India would cease if the technology of the car horn didn’t exist. Somehow we got to and from where we needed to be, then back to my hotel for another fabulous dinner, then a nap in the lobby before my overnight flight. Left for the airport at midnight, and even then the streets of Bombay were teeming. So much activity. Our 10 hour flight to London commenced at 3am, so already my body clock is all upside down. I slept well on the plane–woke up briefly as we flew over Tehran…a clear night, so I could see the well-lighted city very well, and also the stars–millions of them! Landed London Heathrow about 6:30am, then transfered to my flight to Sofia, Bulgaria. Got to a sunny but rather chilly Sofia about 3pm…me and almost all of my bags. Turns out my gear bags, with tripod and lights and chargers and such, didn’t make the flight. And our interview with the customer was set for 10am the next morning. Fortunately, the magical Maggie, of the local Motorola office, was able to secure the necessary rental gear….with only 2 hours left in the business day! That was—-Wednesday, right. So, she and our client Paula brought the gear to the hotel, and I was able to check it out and of course it was all great and I was relieved—until about 11pm, when the extreme need for pepto bismol kicked in with a vengence. And so I was up all night–stomach cramps and worse…a very unhappy system indeed. Fortunately, Thursday was an easy day–four interviews, all in the Motorola offices. Got done with them, got back to the hotel midday, and alternatively slept and kept an eye on the BBC. Why? Because the next stop on my production tour is supposed to be Tbilisi, Georgia–which has just declared a news blackout and a State of Emergency. So now it’s Friday morning and the rising sun is just kissing the snow-capped peak of Vitosha Mountain, and it feels like the bad, bad stomach bug has passed, literally. And with reports in this morning’s news about the current goings-on in Tbilisi….water canons and rubber bullets and tear gas and journalists being beaten and their gear confiscated or destroyed….we’ve decided that the Georgia leg of the journey is off. So it looks like Saturday is now a big travel day home.

It’s the gray season here in SE Asia. Alighted very early from the hotel in Hong Kong and headed out to the airport—the sky was lightening, but there’s just this eternal haze. Same thing Monday in Zhongshan. Bethany and I wondered if people ever see blue sky here. After passing thru immigration and passing a mini version of The Bean in Chicago (this one’s called the Dew Drop, I think. Fun, but not as well-polished), we made our way to the Cathay Pacific First Class Lounge where we had cappucinos and watched a report on CNN International on recent plane crashes in Indonesia. The debate seemed to be: Pilot error? Endemic problem with Indonesian Air Traffic Control? Either way, it sure brightened our spirits as we waited to board the plane for our flight to…that’s right, Jakarta! I couldn’t help but have this in the back of my mind as our VERY turbulent flight took us down over Vietnam, across the equator, and in to Jakarta Soekarno-Hatta Airport. The approach to the airport took us over very tropical areas….lots of red-tile roofs, and lots strewn with gargabe. The sky was, of course, gray. The airport itself is kind of like an overgrown airfield—one-story buildings, very tropical greenery and architecture—it’s not a big hub or anything. Bought my Visa upon entry (very painless), considered the “Death Penalty for Drug Smugglers” signs in the airport (very painful), then gathered our stuff and out we went to meet our driver, Pak Dikdik. The drive in from the airpot took us past swollen waterways (the Jakarta Post reports that high ocean tides have resulted in flooding that’s wreaking a bit of havoc in North Jakarta, sort of where the airport is), and Pak Dikdik did a great job of dodging the incessant lane-changing of his fellow drivers. As we got in to the city we got off the highway and onto some of the tiny tiny local streets on our way to the hotel. Motorbikes everywhere, and wee little 3-wheeled cargo vehicles called Bajaj weaving to and fro. Bobbi’s cousin Marc was right; the poverty here, and the highly visible disparity between haves and have-nots, is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. SUVs and Mercedes driving amongst street after street of begging children, garbage, and meandering (somewhat insane-acting) goats. Intersections are scary—everyone racing through them, jockeying for position as the street children who beg at the stoplights try to stay out of the way. Our arrival at the hotel was like we were entering a mini Green Zone; guards check under and inside each car before its allowed on the property, and they also enter the car with some sort of electronic sniffer and check us out, the driver, and the glovebox. Then we get to the front door, but can’t enter the lobby until we pass through the metal detectors. Once inside the Shangri-La Hotel, it’s all immaculate service and highly-attentive uniformed personnel…and a fair number of armed guards. We checked in and I got to my room just as the 3pm call to prayer was being broadcast from the local mosques (there are many here; one right across the pool area from my room). Then we headed to the Motorola offices for a pre-pro meeting, and entering that facility was the same thing; vehicle inspection, metal detectors, and many armed guards everywhere. The gray, very humid skies persist (we are told it will be like this for about 4 months), but we’re very much looking forward to Wednesday….6 interviews, lots of b-roll, then a dash to the airport for the red-eye to Tokyo.

Another non-stop Wednesday greets us. Bobbi and I awaken still happy and full from our excellent (though late) entrecote. Got to the Le Relais de Venise last evening about 9:30 (after getting some nice sunset shots, then lightshow shots, of the Tour Eiffel, the Invalide, the Ecole Militaire, etc.) and of course the queue was fairly long. Finally got in the door about 10:45, then it was up the micro-stairway to the more intimate, completely lacquer-red upstairs dining room. Once seated we got the two questions: how do you want it cooked, which wine would you like to drink. It was…just perfect, the best way to end this leg of the journey. Major props to Stephanie in Austin for the fast intel! Anway, back to Wed AM… Bobbi organized our many items and got a box of books sent back home while I did a quick edit for our client’s upcoming Board meeting. Then the fun began: the too-long cab ride to Paris Nord station and the Eurostar platform; the Eurostar systems not finding—then finally finding, 10 minutes before departure–our pre-paid reservations; the very fast and fun and nap-inducing train ride through the northern France countryside in uncomfy, 2nd class seats. One thing we like about the Eurostar experience is….when you start in France, all announcements are first in French, and then in English; once you pop out on the other side of the Channel, the announcements are first in English and then in French. And vice versa. Anyway, our arrival at Waterloo was normal until Bobbi discovered that there are no loos in Waterloo once you exit the secured Eurostar platforms area. Who knew no loos? Perhaps a sign or an announcement might have been in order. After another long queue we stuffed all three of us and our bags into a black cab destined for Heathrow. Had a very nice driver who somehow managed to drive us past some of our fave places; the little pub across from Parliament (one of the ones with a Division Bell inside it which alerts Members that it’s time to drink up and head back to vote); the very clean and white Westminster Abbey (seems they’re cleaning all the important buildings up in the city; nice!); the Cabinet War Rooms, down along the gardens and past Buckingham Palace, then past another fun pub (the Bag o’ Nails), through Kensington and Chelsea and, 71 pounds later, to Heathrow Terminal 4. Discovered the 30 kg bag limit that BA has in Heathrow, and after some quick re-packing (hope our dirty laundry bag makes it to Buenos Aires) we were squared away. Next bit of new knowledge came when we learned about the VAT refund scam. In Paris we bought some small items. As you leave the EU, when you attempt to get your VAT refund on small items, they ask to see them. (“What, are you kidding? They’re packed! What kind of a scam is this?”). So after some huffing and puffing by me, followed by an apology by me, we got our VAT refunds sorted out, banged back some tall drinks in the British Airways lounge, and boarded our flight; 12 hours to Sao Paulo, a quick layover, then a few more hours on to Buenos Aires where we hit the ground running!

Factoids: BA Business Class seats on the 747; the most comfy yet! This is the first time either Kahunas have been below the equator (and the toilets do flush counterclockwise)!
Fun update: We’re still on the ground in Sao Paulo, and the new batch of passengers is boarding….and they are quite enthusiastic and loud! Viva Brasil!

Bird poo on the seats inside Barcelona airport—weird, and yet somehow poetic (you think you’re expert in the field of traveling through the air? Take that, and that!). Flight to Frankfurt took us through London Heathrow again, and another visit to the BA Business Lounge where a very vapid don’t-wanna-be-a-mommy was ignoring her VERY LOUD daughter’s vocalization of every single synaptic pulse she had. The businessmen were sending eyeball daggers towards the mommy, who would see them and kind of smile back, as though responding to perceived wordless advances. Got to Frankfurt and got into a cab—turns out the hotel was in another terminal of the same airport, and we could have gotten there via airport terminal train, but we were tired and loaded with gear, so instead we ruined a cabdriver’s night. Thems the breaks pal. Airport hotel was almost eerily silent—we heard not a single airplane. By the time we crashed it was clear we’re both coming down with little chest colds…all that travel and being in a world of smokers had caught up to us. Next morning it was up early and off to the IAA show in downtown-ish Frankfurt. Our client’s booth was WAY cool, and the concept car they were showing was sweeeet. Got to see a few other booths (Honda was showing motorcycles in their booth—and we saw one with a deployed airbag. Wouldn’t getting hit in the chest with an airbag while on a bike just pop you right over the back of the bike?) Then it was off to the Frankfurt hauptbanhof to get the rental minivan, collect our colleague Lee back at the hotel, and hit the autobahn for Krautscheid. Driving on the autobahn was fun; not so fun in a minivan, but I got her up to 170 km/h, and that was cool, but there were dudes overtaking me in their tricked out audi’s and bmw’s and benz’ like I was standing still. It was a beautiful afternoon as we zipped past Koblenz and got to our ausfarht. Our man in Krautscheid is Dr. Frank Toubartz, who runs our client’s facility there—the most advanced lead-acid battery recycling operation in the world–and his directions were great, although the last part (“just head down into the valley” made us a little wary (it was very “turn left where the old Müller place used to be”), but lo and behold, there they were, in the little valley a few km from beautiful downtown Bücholz. Being a sunny afternoon we got the idyllic exteriors first—cows and horses and rolling hills in the foreground, and the plant in the background—and then we got the presentation on the facility, which was pretty fascinating and full of history (there have been lead mining and smelting operations on the site since 50 B.C.,). Feeling well-prepped for the next day’s production we went to our nice little no-internet-access DorintResorts hotel in nearby Windhagen-Siebengbirge. Frank joined us there for a dinner of German-style French cuisine as we heard American pop music from the 50’s to the 80’s wafting in from the bar. Something about drinking a really tasty weisbrau and eating a very tasty bistec while hearing the details of how “Black Betty had a child, bama-lam, the damn thing went wild, bama-lam” was hurting my brain. Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix, and that’s what we got. Next day it was getting to know all the dirty yet very cool details about this amazing lead-acid battery recycling operation. Like, that they recycle something like 4 million car batteries a year, producing 50,000 metric tonnes of lead for reuse. The smelting was as you’d imagine it—very hot, lots of red, molten liquid metal everywhere—but also there was the unexpected, such as the popping sounds of big lead pylon-shaped forms cooling in the yard and the sight of the heat-shimmer they produced. We all looked a bit silly in our safety shoes and hart hards and coats, but hey, this is lead smelting and refining we’re talking about here, and we got right up-close and personal with it, so if they’d wanted us to wear clown noses and fright wigs for added safety we quite happily would have. By late afternoon we were done and on our way to Koln. Traffic into the city was yucky for a while, but we found our way to the hotel, right there across from the Koln hauptbanhof (behind the killer-huge Cathedral in the city—the Dome). Bobbi was feeling particularly pooky and wasn’t able to join the ultrafast but fun Koln tour conducted by our excellent JCI friend and colleague Thomas, who bopped in from nearby Burscheid. He took Lee and me around to see some of the nearby Roman sites—amazingly cool—then to Peters & Bambeck for some of the local kolsch beer, brats and dumplings for me, and goulash soup for Lee. We finished up just as some rain was passing, then off we went for a short stroll up the Reihn River for some fab nighttime city views. Thanks for the microtour and visit Thomas—can’t wait to see you in Milwaukee in a few weeks, where we can return the favor and tour such historical sites as the Blatz Brewery building, made famous in Laverne & Shirley!

And so now it’s Saturday, coming up on day 14 of the odyssy. From our train window we saw the heavy mist settled over westernmost Germany, but the sun is out now in Belgium, and it looks like it’ll be a beautiful weekend in Paris.

It don’t suck people, no indeed it don’t.

Another great day of production, on Catalunya Independence Day. The city is sunny and quiet, as all have gone out to enjoy the holiday with their grandmothers. After shooting home interiors and up at the big castle–Mont Jouic (sp?)–we made our way to La Bodegueta del Poble Sec, a bustley little old place on carrer de blai, a few blocks up from the Paral-el, and we enjoyed a proper, 3-hour long Catalonian wrap lunch. Wonderful foods—grilled vegetables, marinated olives and eggplant, lots of different sausages, tomato-infused breads, bistecs and pork and LOTS of wine. Wine which we consumed from a porro, making for competative, therefore plentiful, consumption. It just felt like the tastiest way to celebrate the holiday and a job well done. Got back to our room and crashed, we are told, in true Catalonian fashion, sleeping all through the night. This morning, Wednesday, our last morning here, we are again greeted with bright sun, giving us what we needed to make one last pass around town to capture images of Barcelona’s most iconic structures. Oh and also giving Mark his first chance to see the Mediterranean!

Huge thanks to Marc, Nuria, Esther, Dustin, Piao and The Bad News Bears for showing us this wonderful city—we can’t wait to come back! But now it’s time to watch Bobbi do her McGyver impersonation, attempting to set-up her iPhone for hands-free viewing on the plane’s tray table as we wing on to Germany and the excitement of the IAA Frankfurt Auto Show.

Barcelona observations: many here ride scooters, and the drone of them makes the city sound like it is under constant attack by the world’s biggest mosquitos; trying to eat your way through the huge variety of the region’s cured meats is the tastiest impossibility one can encounter; until you understand the local spelling of “tapas”, you’ll think there are record stores in almost every restaurant; La Rambla has the largest concentration per capita of statue people in the world (of all materials—copper, bronze, AND marble….and they seem to peacefully coexist quite nicely!)