(Compiled and presented by Jenny Abraham, Managing Director and Gautam Nath, Executive Vice President, TNS India).
The birth of an idea (or a brand) is often said to be mid-wifed by market research (MR). Why is then MR conveniently forgotten when the product becomes a household name? We often see the advertisements doing the rounds of the news circuit; the production house raving about how they created the advertisement and the marketing/brands team basking in the glory of success but no one wishes to know who recommended the strategy to make it a success.
Is it just the advertising idea and production quality, which decides the success of a particular brand?
It is perceived that MR will never provide all the answers but simply continue to supplement the knowledge base for an organisation. The traditional paradigm defining socio-economic classes amongst Indian consumers is also undergoing a change. Here is an instance of a rise in rural consumption of a ‘supposedly’ SEC A+ category shampoo brand. This surely is a glaring example of the redefining of the Indian consumer, thereby challenging the norms. This is where MR works! –
The new-age market researcher is more like a social scientist who probes the minds of the consumers rather than their actual needs, since people do not talk of their deepest desires in focus group discussion anymore, rather they prefer talking to the scenario planner or the social scientist who can understand their minds better. MR now identifies new ways and means of understanding the consumers better.
Discussions centred around the recent MRSI annual seminar, which focused on making market research work better by going beyond the obvious. MR is striving to become the equal partner or stakeholder in the branding / marketing process rather than just being third-party suppliers.
The future of Market Research raises questions like –
• What will be the workings of the industry in India?
Consolidation of businesses, Mergers and Acquisitions, Re-branding processes are in play. Is MR still the underdog in the branding process? Or is it coming of age? An increase in use of information technology can be attributed to its growth?
• What will the companies look like?
International exposure has led to the market being concentrated on a few players, global accounts, globally tested research models, standardised data collection.
• Where will MR be on the corporate food-chain?
MR is increasingly gaining the status of a stakeholder in branding processes or just a third-party supplier.
• Will MR be there at all?
Is there a threat to the industry if at all, from the likes of management consultancies, in-house MR at organisations and academic institutions given their growing interest in market research and to save costs.
Talking about the business, Asian MR market is growing by 10 to 11% a year and is ‘the hottest market worldwide for the market research industry’, according to Tony Cowling, Chairman of TNS. Cowling explained that, while the business is growing 5% a year on average worldwide, growth in Asia is about 11%. Australia has the largest MR sector in the region, but this is growing only 4 to 5% a year, compared with 20% growth in China and 15% growth in India. He predicts that the ‘market research industry regionally will grow twice as fast as the overall economy,' driven both by the establishment of US and European companies in Asia - particularly in China - and by local companies’ increased use of MR. TNS total billings reached £950m last year, of which 12% was from Asia. 'You have to be in Asia, be outsourcing, and using the Internet if you want to be in the future of MR' according to TNS Tony Cowling, speaking at the BMRA's annual conference recently.
Snippets to aid the article:
• http://www.mrweb.com/drno/frmemail/article4612.htm (27 Sept’05)
• (Business World – 30 Aug’04, case study analysis by Raghavan Srinivasan, DMD, TNS India)
MR works when sourced from companies with national infrastructure for data collection with a transparent and audited quality assurance programme; best research practices and methodologies/models that are proven in India and abroad; and finally, time commitment of senior research experts to help go beyond raw data and blend information.
• http://oldwww.roymorgan.com/papers/2000/2000JL1.html
Today, suppliers are critical. Tomorrow, they will be more so! And just to make things really interesting, they may be our competitors, our partners, or our competitors’ partners, or our owners.
What about alternatives and substitutes? As an industry we have typically focussed on competitors and customers, and paid little attention to alternatives and substitutes.
The obvious substitutes are BS (Bureau of Statistics), universities, and management consultants.
Even more importantly, technology ® information systems, and information is real big business.
We foreshadowed that data would be in abundance. The Internet would create the expectation of free information, and an ability to aggregate, analyse, and make sense of data, would be critical.
We foreshadowed that more sophisticated data management systems would mean that increasingly, our clients would be able to glean what they need to know about their customers from their own systems.
We were right about everything except the timing. Relative to other industries, the changes to our own industry have been gentle. We are very lucky we have been able to watch other industries, often our clients, as they have been transformed.
Of particular relevance here is the insight of Andrew Grove, President and CEO of Intel, in his recently published book "Only the Paranoid Survive". He says "There are moments in any business when massive change occurs, when all the rules of business shift fast, furiously and forever". He calls such moments "strategic inflection points".
A strategic inflection point can be set off by almost anything:
• Mega competition;
• A change in regulations;
• Even a seemingly modest change in technology.
We believe today this industry - the market research industry - is at a strategic inflection point.
The world of market research is on the cusp of a new era. This new era is one, which will be defined by globalisation, technology and communication, reduction in traditional boundaries, and a strategic focus on the use of information.
Globalisation means that efficient supply is increasingly taking precedence over geographic proximity. Global alignments are increasingly impacting on all industries including our own, and that of our clients. The virtual organisation has become a reality in technology and information based industries.
Technology has increased the precision and speed with which we do almost everything - from the precision with which data can be captured, analysed, reported and disseminated, and the speed with which a highway or a car must be built, to the speed with which new technology itself can be created. Technology has also increased both the speed and complexity with which information can be transferred and processed with dramatic impacts on the speed of communication.
If globalisation has removed or weakened traditional geographic boundaries, the combined impact of globalisation and communications/technology has weakened the boundaries, which separated industries. E.g., a credit card is now in many ways doing what a bank does; a utility company which installs a direct line to its customers is potentially in the business of telephony; a manufacturer plus internet can be a retailer; any company with a website can be a researcher; any company with a customer base can be a researcher. There are opportunities and threats in abundance.
We believe today this industry - the market research industry - is at a strategic inflection point. Today more so than ever before the industry must develop its own way. Grove points out that, managed wrongly, a strategic inflection point can mean the end of the game. Managed right, it can turn into a powerful force.
Clearly, we all want to manage it right. So how do we go forward? The value of a market research company, and therefore its survival, has always been dependent on many factors, such as:
• Cost of capturing data, analysing data, reporting data;
• Availability of smart people with the unique combination of logic and creativity;
• Demand and supply, and thus, pricing.
• Ability to interweave various data sources not all collected through MR means
Ever-improving technology and communication is increasing the efficiency of data capture, analysis and reporting. We are seeing new methods of surveying including CAPI, internet, soon WAP, ever increasing sophistication in computer modelling, data, data mining, etc, larger more cost effective database systems. This kind of change, continuous improvement, has itself become almost a constant. And most of us are going with the flow.
But as we’ve already said, the changes so far have been gentle. The dotcoms haven’t quite made it into our business yet. As they have focussed dollars and energy as chasing clicks, they have not yet turned to the data analysis – the value of the data that happens to sit behind the visitation and transactions remains potential. What about when they move?
Our clients – banks, insurance companies, telecom, retailers, are only just on the brink of where they can truly get valuable information from their customer databases. They will be dealing with a census of their customers – so many of our valued sampling, weighting and projecting skills will be redundant.
We as researchers will need to be very aware – of where our traditional skills are no longer relevant, and where they are relevant.
A lot of what we have traditionally undertaken, as projects will be tested in real life. For instance, with Internet advertising/Internet offers – you literally watch it happen.
We will need to change what we see as our business. For instance, we used to articulate our business as:
Our core activity is asking questions, counting, sorting and analysing the answers and reporting our findings.
Clearly, if that’s our business – we won’t be around for long.
We as researchers cannot be "precious". The boundaries will blur. And they will blur in areas that we as researchers hold "sacred", e.g., direct marketing and interviewing. Telemarketing companies will do a great job of conducting surveys – and they have scale.
We must be willing to embrace uncertainty, lead the industry (or at least go with the flow) and continually learn.
And remember that it’s times like these when there are threats around every corner – that there are also opportunities in abundance.
- end of document -
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
The Philip Twins
The Philip Twins
The war had just got over and daddy opened a Steak House on the main boulevard next to the Opera House. Business was great as everyone coming out of the Opera was nice and hungry and the thought of a juicy steak and mash potatoes was very appealing. That year Tim and I were born. Twins, squealed my grandma when she saw us first, how very wonderful.
Tim and Jim, we were two peas in a pod.
Mama was elated by us twins and made us similar looking clothes and when we pranced down the street, everyone would say, hey look at those two smart young boys, the Philip twins, are they not a handsome lot? Daddy would be very proud of us and take us in his convertible Ford T up and down the boulevard while we sat on the back seat with the hood down letting the breeze go through our hair.
We were inseparables, we would play together and all the boys and girls on the street would look at us with envy.
When we joined school, they would say, keep away from picking trouble with the Philip twins, they take care of each other. No one would dare bully us because we were two strong young boys growing up.
In the summers, we would go to grandma’s cottage in the country. We built ourselves a tree house and used to spend our days there reading comics and talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up.
Tim wanted to be a pirate and he would sail off into the ocean and return with booty of gold and precious stones. He said he would bring me whatever I wanted when he would grow up and be a pirate. I on the other hand, wanted to be a fireman. I would
rescue people from burning buildings and cats from high trees. I would drive my red fire engine up and down the streets and ring the siren as I would pass by. Those were happy summer days growing up at Grannies.
One day while running back to the cottage from our tree house, I found myself all alone, where was Tim I thought and looked back down the path. Nowhere in sight, my heart began to beat harder and I ran back down the lane. I found Timmy, lying next to the big oak tree clutching his chest and gasping for breath. Tim, Tim, what’s wrong I yelled and picked him up in my arms and ran back to Grannies.
They called the doctor and soon the ambulance came and Tim was taken away. No one told me what was wrong but that evening my dad and mum arrived and were very white in the face. I asked them what was wrong and they finally told me. The doctor would like you to come to his clinic for some tests.
Over there they took some of my blood for testing and had me run through some other tests.
The doctor then told my parents that the rare infection had only affected Tim and that I was all clear. Then I was told, Jimmy, your brother Tim has a rare blood disease that is slowly affecting his heart. They say that he needs regular blood transfusions and that I was one in a million who had a similar type of blood group. That would keep him alive but for how long they were not sure. We have to look for a new heart but to find one for Tim will be a difficult task they said with little hope.
Tim grew weak and was soon restricted to the hospital bed; I would spend hours with him there every day talking and reading stories to him.
Once a week they would take blood from me and transfuse that to Tim. Months went by like that and all we were looking for a miracle. I went on the computer every day to put out pleas looking for some solace when I discovered this website called www.iwishihad.com
When I contacted them I found that they were concerned with the terminally ill and helped to make their last few days with us better. I gave them our address and requested if they could make Tim happy in his last few days here.
That day, I had just given blood and was lying in the next bed to Tim, feeling a bit weak and drowsy when these three men in long black coats came in. No one else was around except Tim and I.
They came up to Tim and were talking with him in low tones that I could barely hear. They told him where they were from and then I heard Tim say, “I wish I had a heart as strong as…..”
And all I remembered was… chloroform does taste sweet.
- The End -
The war had just got over and daddy opened a Steak House on the main boulevard next to the Opera House. Business was great as everyone coming out of the Opera was nice and hungry and the thought of a juicy steak and mash potatoes was very appealing. That year Tim and I were born. Twins, squealed my grandma when she saw us first, how very wonderful.
Tim and Jim, we were two peas in a pod.
Mama was elated by us twins and made us similar looking clothes and when we pranced down the street, everyone would say, hey look at those two smart young boys, the Philip twins, are they not a handsome lot? Daddy would be very proud of us and take us in his convertible Ford T up and down the boulevard while we sat on the back seat with the hood down letting the breeze go through our hair.
We were inseparables, we would play together and all the boys and girls on the street would look at us with envy.
When we joined school, they would say, keep away from picking trouble with the Philip twins, they take care of each other. No one would dare bully us because we were two strong young boys growing up.
In the summers, we would go to grandma’s cottage in the country. We built ourselves a tree house and used to spend our days there reading comics and talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up.
Tim wanted to be a pirate and he would sail off into the ocean and return with booty of gold and precious stones. He said he would bring me whatever I wanted when he would grow up and be a pirate. I on the other hand, wanted to be a fireman. I would
rescue people from burning buildings and cats from high trees. I would drive my red fire engine up and down the streets and ring the siren as I would pass by. Those were happy summer days growing up at Grannies.
One day while running back to the cottage from our tree house, I found myself all alone, where was Tim I thought and looked back down the path. Nowhere in sight, my heart began to beat harder and I ran back down the lane. I found Timmy, lying next to the big oak tree clutching his chest and gasping for breath. Tim, Tim, what’s wrong I yelled and picked him up in my arms and ran back to Grannies.
They called the doctor and soon the ambulance came and Tim was taken away. No one told me what was wrong but that evening my dad and mum arrived and were very white in the face. I asked them what was wrong and they finally told me. The doctor would like you to come to his clinic for some tests.
Over there they took some of my blood for testing and had me run through some other tests.
The doctor then told my parents that the rare infection had only affected Tim and that I was all clear. Then I was told, Jimmy, your brother Tim has a rare blood disease that is slowly affecting his heart. They say that he needs regular blood transfusions and that I was one in a million who had a similar type of blood group. That would keep him alive but for how long they were not sure. We have to look for a new heart but to find one for Tim will be a difficult task they said with little hope.
Tim grew weak and was soon restricted to the hospital bed; I would spend hours with him there every day talking and reading stories to him.
Once a week they would take blood from me and transfuse that to Tim. Months went by like that and all we were looking for a miracle. I went on the computer every day to put out pleas looking for some solace when I discovered this website called www.iwishihad.com
When I contacted them I found that they were concerned with the terminally ill and helped to make their last few days with us better. I gave them our address and requested if they could make Tim happy in his last few days here.
That day, I had just given blood and was lying in the next bed to Tim, feeling a bit weak and drowsy when these three men in long black coats came in. No one else was around except Tim and I.
They came up to Tim and were talking with him in low tones that I could barely hear. They told him where they were from and then I heard Tim say, “I wish I had a heart as strong as…..”
And all I remembered was… chloroform does taste sweet.
- The End -
Our Neighbourhood
Our Neighborhood
This story is about me, my friends and our beautiful neighborhood outside the hustle and bustle of city noise and pollution.
I am 12 and live next to Timmy my best friend. Timmy is only eight and never been to school. His parents are pilots and they fly all over the country. They have even travelled as far as Australia during one of their trips.
Uncle Tom lives opposite us; he is really old and used to be in the Foreign Legions. He was posted for many years in the Middle East and was also part of The Desert Storm. He usually has many stories to tell us and we spend at least one hour with him every day.
The favorite story that we both like is the one when the tank he used to drive went into a big ditch and almost toppled over. The crew tied a rope around a palm tree and used that to pull up the tank. But little did they realize how the tree was shaken that when the tank came back on the ground and they were standing around appreciating their work, a coconut fell straight on Uncle Toms head and he fainted. He still has a little bump which he lets us touch every time he tells his story.
Annabelle lives next to Uncle Tom and she sings so very beautifully. In her days, she was an Opera singer and often entertains us with some of her famous numbers. She still wears the silk gowns that singers used to wear and keeps her long blonde hair in a bun.
Down the road there are two empty plots but we have turned that into our play ground. We play cops and robbers and sometimes also cowboys and Indians there. The trees and bushes make good hiding places so we really enjoy ourselves. Sometimes the plot gets mowed and then we have to wait for fresh bushes to grow.
Donald Trump lives next door, his place is really swank and we often just pass by to see if someone famous is visiting. We used to see his third wife often but not anymore. The only regular visitor is his young daughter. He is one of the few who rarely comes out and mixes with others. Some say he is very rich but some say he has lost everything.
Arnold, Tim and I are best of friends; Arnold lives down the road but always comes by around 10ish. Then the three of us play games in the empty plot and run around up and down the lanes in our neighborhood. By 12, most people have come out and are moving about doing their own business. Sometimes some of the old timers get together for a game of cards, or smoke some cigars. One of them, Missy Boo is very old and she usually just walks to the end of the street and looks over the bushes mumbling away to herself.
This is our neighborhood, we have learned to love it and live each day happily.
However, there is one day that I like the best; it used to come far more often earlier but only comes once a year nowadays.They mow the grass that has grown high and clear all the weeds. The marble stone is cleaned well and some fresh flowers are placed there before saying a prayer and then .......
...............I watch my parents walk hand in hand out of the cemetery.
-The End -
This story is about me, my friends and our beautiful neighborhood outside the hustle and bustle of city noise and pollution.
I am 12 and live next to Timmy my best friend. Timmy is only eight and never been to school. His parents are pilots and they fly all over the country. They have even travelled as far as Australia during one of their trips.
Uncle Tom lives opposite us; he is really old and used to be in the Foreign Legions. He was posted for many years in the Middle East and was also part of The Desert Storm. He usually has many stories to tell us and we spend at least one hour with him every day.
The favorite story that we both like is the one when the tank he used to drive went into a big ditch and almost toppled over. The crew tied a rope around a palm tree and used that to pull up the tank. But little did they realize how the tree was shaken that when the tank came back on the ground and they were standing around appreciating their work, a coconut fell straight on Uncle Toms head and he fainted. He still has a little bump which he lets us touch every time he tells his story.
Annabelle lives next to Uncle Tom and she sings so very beautifully. In her days, she was an Opera singer and often entertains us with some of her famous numbers. She still wears the silk gowns that singers used to wear and keeps her long blonde hair in a bun.
Down the road there are two empty plots but we have turned that into our play ground. We play cops and robbers and sometimes also cowboys and Indians there. The trees and bushes make good hiding places so we really enjoy ourselves. Sometimes the plot gets mowed and then we have to wait for fresh bushes to grow.
Donald Trump lives next door, his place is really swank and we often just pass by to see if someone famous is visiting. We used to see his third wife often but not anymore. The only regular visitor is his young daughter. He is one of the few who rarely comes out and mixes with others. Some say he is very rich but some say he has lost everything.
Arnold, Tim and I are best of friends; Arnold lives down the road but always comes by around 10ish. Then the three of us play games in the empty plot and run around up and down the lanes in our neighborhood. By 12, most people have come out and are moving about doing their own business. Sometimes some of the old timers get together for a game of cards, or smoke some cigars. One of them, Missy Boo is very old and she usually just walks to the end of the street and looks over the bushes mumbling away to herself.
This is our neighborhood, we have learned to love it and live each day happily.
However, there is one day that I like the best; it used to come far more often earlier but only comes once a year nowadays.They mow the grass that has grown high and clear all the weeds. The marble stone is cleaned well and some fresh flowers are placed there before saying a prayer and then .......
...............I watch my parents walk hand in hand out of the cemetery.
-The End -
Linked to Toronto Star Article
Wonder if you saw this article ?
http://www.thestar.com/article/670063
http://www.thestar.com/article/670063
Friday, July 3, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Astronaut
Mission Zebra, Mission Zebra, come in, come in, the radio blared from Base Station. Comrade Yuri, are you there?
Life on Planet Zora was not easy; you had to constantly watch out for streaming meteors and sudden lightening that would light up the night sky.
Comrade Yuri, we are sending a fresh consignment of captured Klingons, you need to store them in the sub zero prison on level three.
Yes sir, will do that. This would be the third consignment of Klingons since spring.
Tomorrow was my weekly run up to the Planet Demonic. That was normally a very difficult run as we had to fly over enemy territory and they had recently got these sophisticated head blasters imported from Zoras that one had to be very careful. Usually I would wear my invisible coat and hold my breath flying below the radar to avoid detection by their spy stations and manage to get to Demonic. It was fun over there, members of the four generations of the Beatles would be playing there this week and the Russian vodka would be freely flowing. This weekly jaunt was the high point of my life. Maybe Princess Bubba would be there, she usually came across once a month to party and boy was she a heck of a dancer.
The radio blared again, Yuri come in, come in.
The Klingon chief has escaped and according to our satellite signals, he has landed on level Eight. Take the Klingon zapper and get over there right away. You are the closest man we have to level eight so get over there and find him.
The Klingon Chief is actually something no one should encounter, 12 foot tall with iron spokes coming out of his head he was just as deadly as his cousin, the Rosnostic Devil and you never take on a Rosnostic Devil.
So I put on my iron gloves, took my Klingon blaster and off it was to level Eight. Boy! This was going to be a battle like never before. I saw him sitting on top of a metal tank eating a rhinoceros and crept up from below and blasted his backside. Ouch! He went, almost as if he was bit by a mosquito. And gave me that glare, my heart was in my mouth as I reloaded the blaster but this time with the red fluid, they always said no not the red fluid anything but the red fluid so I was going to give him a taste of the best. His glare dimmed for a moment as he picked a piece of rhinoceros from his tooth when I saw my chance. And zap, out came the red fluid and splattered all over his ugly body. For a moment, he stood up all quiet and then bellowed such a loud sound that millions in Planet Mombasa next door recalled that yell many years later. Thank god for my anti Klingon ear plugs. And that was the end, the red fluid worked into his veins and heart and he sank to the floor. Got you I said, tied his feet to the rope and dragged him to be frozen in our medical labs on Level Two.
Job done it was time to dress up and leave for Planet Demonic. After having a shave, and putting on my cologne, I donned my invisible cape and was soon out of the chute into space. Veering left to avoid a flying meteor, I sped myself down the galaxy flying low to avoid the radar and was successful landing smoothly next to the music grounds. The Third level generation Beatles were already playing and there must have been over 1000 spectators.
I hurriedly rushed over to the underground level two dance floor where Princess Bubba usually is dancing but she was not there yet. I guess I would have to wait I thought when I heard sirens. Not again, the crowds yelled as the cops came zapping down on us. Listening to the Third generation Beatles was not allowed and they began rounding up the crowds and organizers that I decided to take the back alley and disappear up the chute and emerged at level 4. The second generation Beatles were playing here and that was allowed.
I decided to settle myself down when I saw princess Bubba emerge. Hey the fun will now begin I thought.
Who said being a lift man was a boring job.
- The End -
Life on Planet Zora was not easy; you had to constantly watch out for streaming meteors and sudden lightening that would light up the night sky.
Comrade Yuri, we are sending a fresh consignment of captured Klingons, you need to store them in the sub zero prison on level three.
Yes sir, will do that. This would be the third consignment of Klingons since spring.
Tomorrow was my weekly run up to the Planet Demonic. That was normally a very difficult run as we had to fly over enemy territory and they had recently got these sophisticated head blasters imported from Zoras that one had to be very careful. Usually I would wear my invisible coat and hold my breath flying below the radar to avoid detection by their spy stations and manage to get to Demonic. It was fun over there, members of the four generations of the Beatles would be playing there this week and the Russian vodka would be freely flowing. This weekly jaunt was the high point of my life. Maybe Princess Bubba would be there, she usually came across once a month to party and boy was she a heck of a dancer.
The radio blared again, Yuri come in, come in.
The Klingon chief has escaped and according to our satellite signals, he has landed on level Eight. Take the Klingon zapper and get over there right away. You are the closest man we have to level eight so get over there and find him.
The Klingon Chief is actually something no one should encounter, 12 foot tall with iron spokes coming out of his head he was just as deadly as his cousin, the Rosnostic Devil and you never take on a Rosnostic Devil.
So I put on my iron gloves, took my Klingon blaster and off it was to level Eight. Boy! This was going to be a battle like never before. I saw him sitting on top of a metal tank eating a rhinoceros and crept up from below and blasted his backside. Ouch! He went, almost as if he was bit by a mosquito. And gave me that glare, my heart was in my mouth as I reloaded the blaster but this time with the red fluid, they always said no not the red fluid anything but the red fluid so I was going to give him a taste of the best. His glare dimmed for a moment as he picked a piece of rhinoceros from his tooth when I saw my chance. And zap, out came the red fluid and splattered all over his ugly body. For a moment, he stood up all quiet and then bellowed such a loud sound that millions in Planet Mombasa next door recalled that yell many years later. Thank god for my anti Klingon ear plugs. And that was the end, the red fluid worked into his veins and heart and he sank to the floor. Got you I said, tied his feet to the rope and dragged him to be frozen in our medical labs on Level Two.
Job done it was time to dress up and leave for Planet Demonic. After having a shave, and putting on my cologne, I donned my invisible cape and was soon out of the chute into space. Veering left to avoid a flying meteor, I sped myself down the galaxy flying low to avoid the radar and was successful landing smoothly next to the music grounds. The Third level generation Beatles were already playing and there must have been over 1000 spectators.
I hurriedly rushed over to the underground level two dance floor where Princess Bubba usually is dancing but she was not there yet. I guess I would have to wait I thought when I heard sirens. Not again, the crowds yelled as the cops came zapping down on us. Listening to the Third generation Beatles was not allowed and they began rounding up the crowds and organizers that I decided to take the back alley and disappear up the chute and emerged at level 4. The second generation Beatles were playing here and that was allowed.
I decided to settle myself down when I saw princess Bubba emerge. Hey the fun will now begin I thought.
Who said being a lift man was a boring job.
- The End -
The Amazon Rain Forest
Norman Gardner was a simple old accountant who had worked for the Miller Foundation all of his life. He started with them when he was merely 19 years old and took pre mature retirement last year as he touched the age of fifty. Norman never married in his life and so lived quite a frugal accountant’s life. His savings and early retirement package had left him with quite a tidy sum that he could now decide to spend some of it as he liked and invest the balance to live happily off its interest for the rest of his life.
What will you do with yourself? His assistant Betty had asked as he was leaving and he said who knows, maybe go and explore the Amazon rain forest. Quite different from what people would have expected him to say.
As he sat that evening sipping his ovalteen, Norman got to thinking, what should I do with my time? Shall I go visit Europe and its museums, shall I go and see what China is like or should I join piano classes. Hmmm!
What the heck, let me go visit the Amazon, no one will ever imagine me, Norman Gardner, going on an Amazon forest trip.
So he called up the travel agent and booked his tickets for next Monday and before he knew it, here he was getting off at Ecuador and soon reached the small town of Coca at the edge of the rain forest.
He had been told about taking a guide and following the track set out for tourists but he felt that this would not be adventurous enough. What the heck, if I have come this far, why don’t I take the more difficult trek up the river into the cayambe summit. He purchased all his provisions and his tent and anti insect sprays and took a detailed map from the Tourist office and was soon on his way. Forget those tourist paths, they don’t show you anything great he thought as he hired the small boat to take him up river and to start his own hike into the rain forest.
As Norman had planned according to the map, he should reach the other side crossing through the Panacoca in five days. That should be so exciting just me and nature all by ourselves, as he set off happily.
The first two days were very exciting, he came across waterfalls, piranhas, crocodiles, the black cayman and a wide variety of flora and fauna.
On the third day, he saw some smoke coming from beyond the trees and decided to investigate. As he walked on, the rain forest became thicker and thicker and the earth was now wet and slippery but he went on. At the turn just before the big boulder ahead of him, his leg slipped and the stick he was using as a grip fell from his hand and he felt himself falling. The hillside was full of dried leaves and in the slush of the wetness; he went sliding down the hillside for the next five minutes and landed at the edge of a small river. While he got up and cleaned himself, he was glad that he had not been hurt and once everything checked out, he began to look around him. The river was so beautiful and he could see various colored birds and insects around him. Looking into the river he thought, well there are so many fish here, why don’t I just camp here for the night and catch myself a good fish to barbecue.
Norman left his camping gear at the edge of the river and decided to walk about collecting wood for the fire. As he walked a little way into the forest, he heard some sounds, it sounded like singing and music. Inquisitive, he walked on towards the sounds and came across what seemed like a tribal evening celebration. At first they did not see him but as he wandered out into the clearing, they stopped and stared at him. The chief who was sitting in the centre of the celebrations said something to the men and they stood up and came closer to Norman. One tribal touched his arm and directed him towards the chief.
The others were all silent waiting to see what would happen. They seemed to have finished eating their dinner as he could see remnants of their meal around and they all had a bowl with some liquid in front of them. The chief offered him a bowl and gesticulated for him to drink. He sipped it and found it a strong spirit but tasty. The chief asked him to sit down and then the crowd began to sing and dance again. Norman found it so very enjoyable, we wondered what the tribe was called but could not ask as he did not know the language. He had read up about all the various tribes in the Amazon and was trying to recall this one’s name from their attire and design of ornaments but could not. They topped up his bowl more than once that evening and he forget all about dinner as he was getting slowly drunk. After sometime, he felt his head reeling and found that it was difficult to walk properly. The chief was also getting little drunk but realized that Norman was not used to their liquor. He asked his men to take Norman into the hut and lay him to sleep.
Norman was grateful as all he wanted was a good night’s rest.
The next day, he got up with a hangover and decided to wander out. The chief beckoned him and using sign language, he pointed Norman to go into another large hut where there were two women waiting inside. They had a concoction of oils and herbs with them and began applying that to his forehead. They made him lie down and removed his shirt and began to apply the solution on his body. He felt its heady aroma and again the thought he had last night came to his head. What was the name of this tribe? Was this the medicine tribe the Obayi’s, no that doesn’t seem right he thought?
The rubbing continued, the aroma was so inviting that he began to enjoy it and closed his eyes and relaxed.
In five minutes, they shook him and pointed out to a large vessel in the corner which had lots of aromatic herbs and hot water in it. They helped him up and into the vessel and again began the rubbing to make him relax.
His thoughts began to drift off as he closed his eyes to sleep, what was the name of this tribe his mind was thinking, and thinking, while he slowly dozed off when it came to him.
……..oh yes, they are the Shamatari, the cannibalistic river tribe.
- The End –
What will you do with yourself? His assistant Betty had asked as he was leaving and he said who knows, maybe go and explore the Amazon rain forest. Quite different from what people would have expected him to say.
As he sat that evening sipping his ovalteen, Norman got to thinking, what should I do with my time? Shall I go visit Europe and its museums, shall I go and see what China is like or should I join piano classes. Hmmm!
What the heck, let me go visit the Amazon, no one will ever imagine me, Norman Gardner, going on an Amazon forest trip.
So he called up the travel agent and booked his tickets for next Monday and before he knew it, here he was getting off at Ecuador and soon reached the small town of Coca at the edge of the rain forest.
He had been told about taking a guide and following the track set out for tourists but he felt that this would not be adventurous enough. What the heck, if I have come this far, why don’t I take the more difficult trek up the river into the cayambe summit. He purchased all his provisions and his tent and anti insect sprays and took a detailed map from the Tourist office and was soon on his way. Forget those tourist paths, they don’t show you anything great he thought as he hired the small boat to take him up river and to start his own hike into the rain forest.
As Norman had planned according to the map, he should reach the other side crossing through the Panacoca in five days. That should be so exciting just me and nature all by ourselves, as he set off happily.
The first two days were very exciting, he came across waterfalls, piranhas, crocodiles, the black cayman and a wide variety of flora and fauna.
On the third day, he saw some smoke coming from beyond the trees and decided to investigate. As he walked on, the rain forest became thicker and thicker and the earth was now wet and slippery but he went on. At the turn just before the big boulder ahead of him, his leg slipped and the stick he was using as a grip fell from his hand and he felt himself falling. The hillside was full of dried leaves and in the slush of the wetness; he went sliding down the hillside for the next five minutes and landed at the edge of a small river. While he got up and cleaned himself, he was glad that he had not been hurt and once everything checked out, he began to look around him. The river was so beautiful and he could see various colored birds and insects around him. Looking into the river he thought, well there are so many fish here, why don’t I just camp here for the night and catch myself a good fish to barbecue.
Norman left his camping gear at the edge of the river and decided to walk about collecting wood for the fire. As he walked a little way into the forest, he heard some sounds, it sounded like singing and music. Inquisitive, he walked on towards the sounds and came across what seemed like a tribal evening celebration. At first they did not see him but as he wandered out into the clearing, they stopped and stared at him. The chief who was sitting in the centre of the celebrations said something to the men and they stood up and came closer to Norman. One tribal touched his arm and directed him towards the chief.
The others were all silent waiting to see what would happen. They seemed to have finished eating their dinner as he could see remnants of their meal around and they all had a bowl with some liquid in front of them. The chief offered him a bowl and gesticulated for him to drink. He sipped it and found it a strong spirit but tasty. The chief asked him to sit down and then the crowd began to sing and dance again. Norman found it so very enjoyable, we wondered what the tribe was called but could not ask as he did not know the language. He had read up about all the various tribes in the Amazon and was trying to recall this one’s name from their attire and design of ornaments but could not. They topped up his bowl more than once that evening and he forget all about dinner as he was getting slowly drunk. After sometime, he felt his head reeling and found that it was difficult to walk properly. The chief was also getting little drunk but realized that Norman was not used to their liquor. He asked his men to take Norman into the hut and lay him to sleep.
Norman was grateful as all he wanted was a good night’s rest.
The next day, he got up with a hangover and decided to wander out. The chief beckoned him and using sign language, he pointed Norman to go into another large hut where there were two women waiting inside. They had a concoction of oils and herbs with them and began applying that to his forehead. They made him lie down and removed his shirt and began to apply the solution on his body. He felt its heady aroma and again the thought he had last night came to his head. What was the name of this tribe? Was this the medicine tribe the Obayi’s, no that doesn’t seem right he thought?
The rubbing continued, the aroma was so inviting that he began to enjoy it and closed his eyes and relaxed.
In five minutes, they shook him and pointed out to a large vessel in the corner which had lots of aromatic herbs and hot water in it. They helped him up and into the vessel and again began the rubbing to make him relax.
His thoughts began to drift off as he closed his eyes to sleep, what was the name of this tribe his mind was thinking, and thinking, while he slowly dozed off when it came to him.
……..oh yes, they are the Shamatari, the cannibalistic river tribe.
- The End –
The African Queen
Udumi was born to a family of traders in a small village in the South of the country. Her childhood was very pleasant, playing with the other children in the village and tending to her families various farm animals. She had 12 brothers and sisters as in those days, they usually had large families.
But they always said, Udumi, you are the smart one; you must do something with your life.
As she grew older, she attended the local school in the village and took up an interest in playing the violin. Her tunes became very popular and she was often called to play during village weddings and other important events. Udumi’s violin soon became well known in the region and she was often called upon during special ceremonies at the state administrators’ home in the adjoining village.
One day they came to her father and told him that the head of the country, General Idi Didi was going to be visiting the State and they were having a grand party in his honor. They would like Udumi to play the welcome song as he walked in to the hall.
Udumi was elated, in her 18 years, this was the biggest ever opportunity to show her skills. Her mother dressed her up in yellow and silver and she also wore her grandmother’s valuable brooch which had been gifted to her by a visiting British missionary many years ago.
That evening, she was sitting on the promenade with little lights flickering around her and then they announced His Excellency General Idi Didi and that was her cue, she began and her violin sang like never before. The General stopped as he passed by
and stood there for two minutes hearing her play and smiled as he walked on.
That night she couldn’t sleep, she was so excited that he had stopped and listened to her.
A few weeks later, the village headman called her father and said that General Idi Didi had sent a message that he wanted to marry the sweet girl who played the violin.
When her father brought home the message, they were all very elated, Udumi would be Queen.
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of events, parties and shopping trips and finally they left in an entourage for the big city.
The Wedding was a gala affair; heads of States and Government were all invited. Udumi was his 13th wife and that was said to be a position of honor. She was then taken into the Palace and given the special rooms on the left wing on the 3rd Floor. General Idi came in that night and was very loving towards her and did things she had never experienced before but she thought, this must be what queens are supposed to do. General Idi left in the early morning hours and she did not see him for the next week.
Her life was pampered, bathing in milk and eating exotic fruits and vegetables. And the meats, she had never seen such a spread of delicacies. Every Sunday, there would be a market place organized in the palace grounds when all the Queens would come down. The grounds would be full of stalls from the town where the queens would pick whatever caught their fancy. Udumi selected some gowns and a strong axe which she asked to be sent to her parents back home. They also sent three bushels of grain and rice with the consignment.
Months passed by, and one morning she woke up feeling a bit unwell and the palace doctor was called. Congratulations Queen Udumi, you are with child. The palace was full of festivities as the General would be soon having another heir. A son was born to Udumi that winter, and they named him Idi after his father.
Queen Udumi was visited less and less in the months that followed and she wondered why that was so. They said that you do put on weight during childbirth and so her becoming twice in size should have not been the reason. General Idi now had his 20th Queen and during the Sunday marketplace Udumi would see how slim and pretty the new Queens were.
But as time passed and she never got any visits by the General anymore, she started to get angry. How dare he keep her closed up in the palace, never allowing her to wander out into the town, never visiting her in the night and soon also the gifts stopped. Her violin strings needed repair but no one bothered about that too. She was so angry that day when she could not take it any longer and against all rules, barged right into his private quarters to bring this up once and for all.
Fireworks went off that day and tales like this would be told to Queens in the future.
But as far as Udumi was concerned, she found out that ears do get cold in the freezer.
- The End -
But they always said, Udumi, you are the smart one; you must do something with your life.
As she grew older, she attended the local school in the village and took up an interest in playing the violin. Her tunes became very popular and she was often called to play during village weddings and other important events. Udumi’s violin soon became well known in the region and she was often called upon during special ceremonies at the state administrators’ home in the adjoining village.
One day they came to her father and told him that the head of the country, General Idi Didi was going to be visiting the State and they were having a grand party in his honor. They would like Udumi to play the welcome song as he walked in to the hall.
Udumi was elated, in her 18 years, this was the biggest ever opportunity to show her skills. Her mother dressed her up in yellow and silver and she also wore her grandmother’s valuable brooch which had been gifted to her by a visiting British missionary many years ago.
That evening, she was sitting on the promenade with little lights flickering around her and then they announced His Excellency General Idi Didi and that was her cue, she began and her violin sang like never before. The General stopped as he passed by
and stood there for two minutes hearing her play and smiled as he walked on.
That night she couldn’t sleep, she was so excited that he had stopped and listened to her.
A few weeks later, the village headman called her father and said that General Idi Didi had sent a message that he wanted to marry the sweet girl who played the violin.
When her father brought home the message, they were all very elated, Udumi would be Queen.
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of events, parties and shopping trips and finally they left in an entourage for the big city.
The Wedding was a gala affair; heads of States and Government were all invited. Udumi was his 13th wife and that was said to be a position of honor. She was then taken into the Palace and given the special rooms on the left wing on the 3rd Floor. General Idi came in that night and was very loving towards her and did things she had never experienced before but she thought, this must be what queens are supposed to do. General Idi left in the early morning hours and she did not see him for the next week.
Her life was pampered, bathing in milk and eating exotic fruits and vegetables. And the meats, she had never seen such a spread of delicacies. Every Sunday, there would be a market place organized in the palace grounds when all the Queens would come down. The grounds would be full of stalls from the town where the queens would pick whatever caught their fancy. Udumi selected some gowns and a strong axe which she asked to be sent to her parents back home. They also sent three bushels of grain and rice with the consignment.
Months passed by, and one morning she woke up feeling a bit unwell and the palace doctor was called. Congratulations Queen Udumi, you are with child. The palace was full of festivities as the General would be soon having another heir. A son was born to Udumi that winter, and they named him Idi after his father.
Queen Udumi was visited less and less in the months that followed and she wondered why that was so. They said that you do put on weight during childbirth and so her becoming twice in size should have not been the reason. General Idi now had his 20th Queen and during the Sunday marketplace Udumi would see how slim and pretty the new Queens were.
But as time passed and she never got any visits by the General anymore, she started to get angry. How dare he keep her closed up in the palace, never allowing her to wander out into the town, never visiting her in the night and soon also the gifts stopped. Her violin strings needed repair but no one bothered about that too. She was so angry that day when she could not take it any longer and against all rules, barged right into his private quarters to bring this up once and for all.
Fireworks went off that day and tales like this would be told to Queens in the future.
But as far as Udumi was concerned, she found out that ears do get cold in the freezer.
- The End -
Friday, June 5, 2009
June 2009 Edition The Toronto Manager Page 17
‘Philip Kotler – Move over – A new marketing jargon is born’ - By Gautam Nath
Recalling our days at the Management School, we were taught and
learned all about Marketing and Advertising and have seen our compatriots in the corporate world over the years sing the same old song. The four P’s, the four C’s and the rest of the marketing jargon.
Advertising agencies earlier dealt with the Marketing side of their clients business and focused their attention to handling above the line spends while leaving below the line to the Sales team to handle.
Over years, soon the priority of below the line and one on one marketing began to take up importance and advertising agencies as well as DM agencies started to take an interest and build business models around both above as well as below the line. In Canada, Environics Analytics product PRIZM© that uses geographical and demographic secondary data to support aiming our below the line spends as a tactical tool is a great example of this.
But what no one saw and a new terminology for our marketing fraternity is: What about ‘Beside’ the line?
Yes, you heard me right; I am talking about ‘Beside’ the line. That wasn’t termed when we read our Kotlers but it’s shaking the Marketing tree today.
Marketing today is also about ‘Beside’ the line and more and more organizations are budgeting and spending big bucks ‘Beside’ the line.
A strong example of ‘Beside’ the line spend is the entire gamut of initiatives that Corporates take up and call CSR, or Corporate Social Responsibility. This intervention is clearly neither above nor below the line and a fit student of ‘Beside’ the line activity. Funds are usually controlled outside the regular Marketing budgets and in case of large corporations, can add up to Millions of Dollars each year.
TNS conducted a Global Corporate Social Responsibility study among automotive and related sectors covering 16 countries and 5 industry sectors which showed us how companies the world over are serious about their Corporate Social Responsibility and that this ‘Beside’ the line activity is becoming a strong tool for the corporate world.
In today’s competing world, where space is crowded and consumers are being hounded by both above the line and below the line media, this strategy is being used more and more by corporations across the globe. ‘Beside’ the line marketing enters the consumers mind through uncluttered space and leaves a far greater and lasting impression. Psychologists have shown the value of being seen as doing Good for Society has a positive rub off on the observers mind about that corporation. Marketing spends in blogging, twittering and in letting customers define brand promise all fall under the gamut of beside the line spends. It has to do with tomorrow’s consumer who will shape the marketplace rather than the manufacturer.
More and more consumers are asking corporations what they are returning back to society and when addressed professionally and in a systematic basis, this activity falls under the ambit of ‘Beside’ the line.
Last month was talking with Nick, a senior manager at a Diamond export firm based at South Africa which had adopted 2 villages nearby and has taken responsibility for providing two things: free medical facilities and free education for children. They had been running these initiatives for the last year. When I asked him about its outcome, he said that it made them proud as much of their labor force came from these two villages and also their US buyer increased their business three fold when they heard about the kind of return to society this company was involved in.
CSR Europe has over 60 leading Multinational corporations as its members and works towards integrating CSR into the way they run their day-to-day business.
Dipak Jain, Dean, Kellogg School of Management in a recent forum opined as to how today’s Management Education has to make it a necessity to train Socially Responsible Global leaders of our future corporations.
‘Beside’ the line marketing is here to stay. Marketing experts need to sit down and review what other activities categorize ‘Beside’ the line and soon we will see the rise in consulting companies offering services to maximize the ‘Beside’ the line effectiveness. The Corporate Boardroom will also be witness to ‘Beside’ the line budgeting on a more professional and regular basis.
The fact that these activities exist is not new and there is a lot of knowledge available on this account, the author’s intention here is to give it a handle and ask for its natural place in our Marketing Books along with the jargon of ‘Above’ and ‘Below’ the line.
- end of document -
About the Author – Gautam Nath, MBA, RHB, is Director, Cultural Markets at Environics Research Group. He has worked in the corporate world with Fortune 1000 companies such as Estee Lauder, SC Johnson and the TNS Group. Having over 25 years of Corporate experience across a gamut of disciplines covering Market Research, Marketing and International Trade, Mr. Nath regularly contributes his ideas and learning's to the media for sharing among his peers and successors.
He may be contacted at gautam.nath@environics.ca
Monday, May 25, 2009
Jobs in Canada
Gautam Nath, MBA, RHB, gautamnathnath@gmail.com is looking for new members for his self help group. Follow this link and join us as a new member today........http://www.linkedin.com/groups?gid=1826478
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Crabs Lovers ?
Are you a Crab Lover?
“For those who venture beyond the normal, for those who delight in the
gastronomy, for those who like to venture where no man has ever been before,
enter this page at your own peril, for life will not be the same again”.
Words, which paraphrased the club, I once set up in Delhi - The Crab Lovers
Club - Defunct today as experience showed (14 members in a short period of
6 weeks) the venue always ended up being at my place. So the founder
decided to unfound and the club was put to rest. Now by special invitation
only.
But the recipe remains and for those who wish to partake, here goes
- The famous "Chilli" Crab.
Ingredients (Serves 4)
1 kilogram fresh cleaned crab in the shell, claws separate, body in two
parts.
500 grams onion, finely chopped.
500 grams tomato, whole.
4 table spoons red chilli powder.
1 tablespoon turmeric (haldi) powder.
Juice of one lemon
Handful of dhania leaves, finely chopped
2 Bay leaves, whole
4 medium size cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 small piece (size of your thumb) ginger, finely chopped
Salt to taste
2 cups washed Basmati Rice
1 cup cooking oil
2 cups milk
Process
1. Take a deep pot or karhai
2. Put in the oil and let it come to heat
3. Put in the bay leaves, garlic and ginger and continuously stir for a
minute till light brown
4. Stir in the onions, let it brown and give out its water.
5. Blanch the tomatoes (put in a separate pan of boiling water for a
few minutes). Remove & throw away the peel and roughly mash up the rest
and add to the frying onions.
6. Put in the turmeric powder and a cup of water and let it cook
occasionally stirring till it becomes a thick paste.
7. Now add the crabs and gently stir as you see the colour of the
shells turning red.
8. Add the red chilli powder (more if you like to sweat - highly
recommended, less if you want to live long - but then what are you doing
here?)
9. Add the lemon juice and stir the lot for a few minutes.
10. Add water till the crabs are two thirds covered - Stir and put it on
slow fire to cook for 10 minutes. Cover.
11. After 10 minutes, remove the cover and put the heat on high,
stirring occasionally till the water level reduces to about one fourth the
level of the crabs. Add salt to taste and stir gently, shut the fire.
12. Boil the rice separately (in half water, half milk) and keep ready.
13. Pick up and place the crabs in a Borosil / See through dish, Then
pour its gravy on top and garnish with the dhania leaves.
14. Sit down, roll up your sleeves and have fun. Bowl of green salad
recommended for those who like the chilli chilli version. Take the phone
off the hook.
Availability
Crabs are available in Delhi usually at the fish shops at INA market and
sometimes at Chittaranjan Park. Rs. 100 – 150 a kilogram depending on the
clothes you are wearing.
At Mumbai, usually at Crawford Market and occasionally early morning at the
Docks off Colaba.
Hyderabad, Bangalore, Chennai, the author would like to know where.
“For those who venture beyond the normal, for those who delight in the
gastronomy, for those who like to venture where no man has ever been before,
enter this page at your own peril, for life will not be the same again”.
Words, which paraphrased the club, I once set up in Delhi - The Crab Lovers
Club - Defunct today as experience showed (14 members in a short period of
6 weeks) the venue always ended up being at my place. So the founder
decided to unfound and the club was put to rest. Now by special invitation
only.
But the recipe remains and for those who wish to partake, here goes
- The famous "Chilli" Crab.
Ingredients (Serves 4)
1 kilogram fresh cleaned crab in the shell, claws separate, body in two
parts.
500 grams onion, finely chopped.
500 grams tomato, whole.
4 table spoons red chilli powder.
1 tablespoon turmeric (haldi) powder.
Juice of one lemon
Handful of dhania leaves, finely chopped
2 Bay leaves, whole
4 medium size cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 small piece (size of your thumb) ginger, finely chopped
Salt to taste
2 cups washed Basmati Rice
1 cup cooking oil
2 cups milk
Process
1. Take a deep pot or karhai
2. Put in the oil and let it come to heat
3. Put in the bay leaves, garlic and ginger and continuously stir for a
minute till light brown
4. Stir in the onions, let it brown and give out its water.
5. Blanch the tomatoes (put in a separate pan of boiling water for a
few minutes). Remove & throw away the peel and roughly mash up the rest
and add to the frying onions.
6. Put in the turmeric powder and a cup of water and let it cook
occasionally stirring till it becomes a thick paste.
7. Now add the crabs and gently stir as you see the colour of the
shells turning red.
8. Add the red chilli powder (more if you like to sweat - highly
recommended, less if you want to live long - but then what are you doing
here?)
9. Add the lemon juice and stir the lot for a few minutes.
10. Add water till the crabs are two thirds covered - Stir and put it on
slow fire to cook for 10 minutes. Cover.
11. After 10 minutes, remove the cover and put the heat on high,
stirring occasionally till the water level reduces to about one fourth the
level of the crabs. Add salt to taste and stir gently, shut the fire.
12. Boil the rice separately (in half water, half milk) and keep ready.
13. Pick up and place the crabs in a Borosil / See through dish, Then
pour its gravy on top and garnish with the dhania leaves.
14. Sit down, roll up your sleeves and have fun. Bowl of green salad
recommended for those who like the chilli chilli version. Take the phone
off the hook.
Availability
Crabs are available in Delhi usually at the fish shops at INA market and
sometimes at Chittaranjan Park. Rs. 100 – 150 a kilogram depending on the
clothes you are wearing.
At Mumbai, usually at Crawford Market and occasionally early morning at the
Docks off Colaba.
Hyderabad, Bangalore, Chennai, the author would like to know where.
A TRYST WITH HONG KONG
One of the world’s oldest Trading Posts, Hong Kong has been world renown as the earlier British controlled and recently having being returned to
And then we land, the landing strip reaches out into the bay giving you the feeling of landing in water. What a start.
Visas are available at the airport and very soon one is in a taxi cruising towards the city.
The airport is about an hours drive from the city and can be reached by taxi, train or shuttle bus, each a cheaper option to the other.
As one exits from the airport, the air is of a different order, fresh and clear. The view unfolds water pockets and hills, a truly different landscape from
As we near the city, the skyline changes and soon we are driving among skyscrapers. Different shapes and different sizes. The roads begin the meander and enter into a myriad of tunnels, flyovers and undulating stretches. Traffic sense is very strict and movement brisk. We reached Wanchai, a tourist destination and locality known for its streets full of shops and the well known shopping complexes of
After a hard days work at the office, it was back to the streets. The lights are amazing and truly marvelous. Wonder what the electricity bill would be like. Streets are lit in multi-colour, huge Chinese characters shine out to you and
Hong Kong is enjoyable for an overall experience where one needs to experience its sights, the night markets (for some bargaining for clothes and bric a brac), the Lan Kwai Fong area for cuisines from the world over and for the first time visitor, a day trip across the bay to Xinseng the China main land.
Weather is normally moderate with chances of light showers, which go as soon as they come but leave behind high humidity.
From
The Hong Kong Dollar is about one seventh of the
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
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