Another Frankfurt under my belt

I've just wrapped up my 13th Frankfurt.
It seems a bit weird to me to realise that this event has become one of those annual things from which its very passage can make you pause and reflect on another year's passing.

Oh dear, lighten Terry.

I've had a pretty quiet one this year though I did get into a rather ill advised argument in a bar.
Frankfurt has the ability to make everyone a wanker. Why bother discussing ego driven nonsense with someone who you wouldn't otherwise have coffee with?
Who knows? I wish I hadn't bothered.

I think that the sheer amount of travel that I do, as well as the accompanying dinners/drinks/socializing that this entails, has made me rather blase regarding the frenzy of drinking and eating that takes place .
For many in publishing this is THE event of the year.
Busy, busy...no time to talk, on the cell...buy, buy, sell, sell...blah,blah!

Actually, that guy's name is Carlos, and he's quite cool as you can see.

Frankfurt is an annual pilgrimage to a giant complex of halls, in a boring city, much of which the pilgrims never see.
There are 10 buildings many of which are multilevel, and all the space is crammed with agents, publishers, jobbers, wholesalers, media companies and variations on all of the aforementioned. People tend to journey to one or two halls and that's about it.
This year, India was the "country of honor" ( a marketing con if ever there was one), and I bet 95% of people at the fair didn't venture anywhere near the Indian hall.

There WAS a forlorn group of dancers/musicians in a tent which played and performed to a bemused group of cops/catering staff/freight personnel.
I always think that at 8 AM the bookfair is at it's least cynical and feels fresh.

I think of myself as a travel veteran.
I am, but witness the "first sales conference blunder/catastrophe" I made in packing for this year.

Amateur mistake.
Terry is human.
I even made up an elaborate lie to colleagues to explain this piece of elementary stupidity.
I confessed all eventually.
My amazement at how I could make such a blunder really precluded keeping up the pretense.


So, off to the mall across from the hotelto make what seemed like a fairly straight forward save.
Clown shoes.
Thats what German men wear.
Expensive, square-toed walk across water torture devices.
Jeeze.
I was buying shoes for the bookfair, not the circus.
I finally settled on a pair, 1/2 a size too small and had blisters and sore calves for the week. They went in the bin the minute I got home.

The flower of International womanhood in publishing (except Americans), wear knee-high boots by the way

At Frankfurt, many consumer goods companies do market resaerch trying to cash in on the massive pseudo-intellectual constituency.

I had a long(ish) chat with a woman who had a " Love bubble tour schedule" binder tucked under her arm. Our convo went a little like this:

"You are information executive, no? We want that idea"

"Huh?"...I'm smoking and drinking my coffee.

"What is your car brand?"

Puff, puff, sip,sip

"Is there a way to be understanding of your condom type?"

FLEE.......FLEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Marketing hell.

There are plenty of food options at the Fair. I'm a simple sort, so I always tried to make sure I had my sausage grub. The Germans do sausage grub so well.

One of the central points at the bookfair is not in the Messe.

As mentioned in an earlier post, its at the Cafe Casablanca in the Meridian park Hotel.

Brits and yanks.

But also some Canadians of note:

I had a bit of fun this week. My dinner with the "I Group" from Thailand was a highlight.

Ok.

That's enough.

Goodnight and Love to all>

T