Volcano, Jails and Snoring

As I write this I am sitting in seat 1 A of business class bound for London and currently somewhere over northern Thailand. I have just enjoyed a lovely steak and now washing it down with a few beers. Sounds lovely doesn`t it?

If only the past week had gone so smoothly .....

So we had the Chinese Grand Prix on Sunday, not that I can remember it, I can`t even remember who won. This is not because the race was boring. Far from it, in fact there was action galore. But due to the fact that the minute the Icelandic volcano erupted the F1 paddock personel have thought of nothing more than `How the bloody hell are we going to get home?`

The race ended and all members of the F1 travelling circus turned their attention to booking flights home . Can I get a connecting flight from Shanghai to Bangkok? Does Lufthansa fly into Kuala Lumpur? Do I need a visa to transfer through Singapore? How long does it take to drive to Calais from Porto? Can I fit any more fake Rolex`s in my luggage? Have I got enough pants to last another week? And all other conceivable options.

As we woke on Monday the full extent of the situation dawned on us. We were stuck. All flights to the UK and most of Europe were cancelled.

Now, normally this would not be a problem. A few days extra away from home, staying in a nice hotel, time to explore the local area, time to get all of your work done before returning to the UK, maybe even a few boozy nights out with colleagues? But No, this was the Chinese Grand Prix, and it is not the place that you want to be stranded.

So we came up with a plan to get home; Our original airline offered us a date of the 6th May which was 16 days away and there was no way on this earth that I was staying in China for 16 days, I would rather crawl home!

So we decided upon Shanghai - Hanoi - Moscow - London. This would give the volcano time to calm down and in theory provide us somewhere nice to ride out the flight chaos ensuing in Europe.

This was all going swimmingly well until we arrived in Hanoi and Vietnamese immigration studied our visa documents to find that the visa office had actually incorrectly filled-out the forms. The authorities decided that we were illegally trying to enter Vietman and they told us that we were being sent back to China (where by now, we also did not have a current visa!) No end of discussions and pleading ensued until we were shown to what the officers called the `Transit Hotel`. The Transit Hotel turned out to be a prison. We were ushered in and shown where we were going to spend the night whilst they investigated our visas. We were to share this barren room with an armed guard for the night who had not expected our arrival and had consumed a few too many bottles of cheap red wine. Ok, he was hammered. And armed. And he snored!, It was not a fun 12 hours.

Our visas were processed the following day and we headed eagerly into Hanoi. What a place. The contrast from the grimy heavy air of Shanghai to an immigration cell, to the tropical holiday vibe of the Hanoi Old Town was very welcome.

Sadly our little trip had to come to a premature end due to an earlier flight being available and so as I now sit here, heading to London, consuming another beer, I look back at the rollercoaster of the past 72 hours.

I know one thing for sure, I thought the snoring from the armed guard 24 hours ago was bad, but the snoring from the guy in the seat behind me might just set the volcano off again!

Brand Loyalty - Malaysian GP 2010

If you don`t ride a scooter in Malaysia then you drive a Proton. They are everywhere. Every car you see, every car you rent, every car you have never dreamed of is a Proton.

This of course is good news, not only for Proton and the government, which are a majority shareholder, but also good news for country loyalty. The Malaysians love their Protons.
It is however bad news for the 3 million Proton owners in Malaysia who believe that the only option in car ownership is a Proton. Sure they are cheap, I suppose, they are even reliable, but I wouldn`t want to crash in one. Hell, I wouldn`t want to spend more than about 10 minutes in one!

The locals that buy these cars know no different. They are loyal to the brand. They like their Protons and they would like us foreigners to like their Protons.

I find it rather strange that as a brand it has such a loyal following. Most Malaysians I have met are young, ambitious individuals with style and are constantly looking to Europe for the next trend or fashion. But when it comes to loyalty in Malaysia the blue-chip companies have it sewn up.

Last weekend I watched Fairuz Fauzy, a young Malaysian F1 test driver, make his Formula One testing debut in front of his home fans. He was driving a Lotus, which is owned by Proton. The team is owned by Malaysia`s version of Richard Branson. This should be a sure fire Malaysian success story. But as Fairuz completed his first laps at the Malaysian circuit none of these loyal locals batted an eyelid. There were no cheers, no flag waving no screams from adoring females.

How far do you have to go to get a following from local Malaysians? This is a Malaysian team, owned by a Malaysian celebrity, with a Malaysian driver, driving a Formula One car, in Malaysia!

In complete contrast, when Nico Rosberg, a Finn, pretending to be a German, who lives in Monaco walked out on to the podium in 3rd place for Mercedes, a German car manufacturer, he received the biggest cheer of the weekend.

Why?
Not because they were wowed by Nicos driving skills. They were not impressed with his 3rd position either. They were not even fans of his European good-looks and they were certainly not fans of Mercedes. They cheered because of the slogan emblazoned across Nicos race overalls. PETRONAS The Malaysian state Oil Company. This, believe it or not, received the biggest cheer of the weekend.

Brand loyalty, it`s a funny old thing!