The wheel in Manchester
Chris | December 30, 2006


I arrive in Truro at 8.15am on Saturday morning, beating the last minute retail rush by 2 hours - and I’m finished and out by 10.15am.
The police have blocked traffic into the city centre, forcing shoppers to use the “park and ride” facility - but the Flying Banana makes it into the centre and out again.
As I drive in I hear on the radio that, in the UK, £500m will be withdrawn from ATM’s today and £2.5bn will be spent.
I’m slightly confused that tomorrow (Sunday) the shops will stay open to give us an even more terminal moment to fullfil our retail obligations - Christmas/Christian/Sabbath - where did all that go?
Possibly the saddest scene of the day is the dozens of stressed Dads roaming around looking for Nintendo Wii’s - all sold out, of course. The electronics shops have posters in their windows advising the lost tribes of parents not to bother entering the store. The Wii has beaten the PS3 hands down - read more here.
Anyway - I’m done.

Winter is late arriving this year but the nationwide freezing fog is still with us, airports are still almost closed (all domestic flights cancelled) and the frosty mornings are beginning in earnest.
My “man-cold” has settled into a debilitating chest infection and a head that feels stuffed with cotton-wool. As you can imagine, I am fabulous company.
Today I’m taking it very slowly and my only venture outside is likely to be the 10 paces to take the photograph.
As a weak winter sun begins to peek through the fog at 10.00am, it’s casting a glow over the fields I see from my desk. The shortest day of the year was yesterday - so we are now on the upward slope to summer!
I have emails to answer, a couple of brief phone calls this afternoon - and although there are some last minute retail chores before Christmas, I think I’ll stay inside today and feel sorry for myself.

Manchester City Centre.
My business meeting is a success and I enjoy lunch at the new Hilton - roast parsnip soup and a turkey main course (my first of the season) - lovely restuarant and excellent service, although we are deep in business discussion and so miss perhaps the finer points.
I also have time to do a little Christmas shopping, including a pop into Harvey Nichols to stare in wonderment at the Oliver Sweeney bags and shoes - no purchases though, my team would kill me.
Manchester is heaving with shoppers and the “wheel” is back again - I’m noticing how many of these contraptions are appearing around the country - somebody somewhere must be making a good profit.
By the end of the day my sore throat of Monday night is settling down into a chest infection and the symptoms of “man cold” are manifesting themselves.
Women have no concept of the suffering we men endure when we have any such symptoms - it puts childbirth and other tubular complications to shame.
The “man cold” robs us of our spirit and natural charysma, we don’t feel as sexy as normal and the irritating behaviour of other people can appear magnified.
The next few days will be tough.
Last night I managed to arrive back at the airport in time to see crowds of British Airways passengers tearing their garments and gnashing their teeth as most of the their services have been cancelled due to thick winter fog all over the UK.
Frantic business men and women wail into mobile phones or punch furiously into Blackberry’s as if they are having a sudden arthritic attack. Hotel rooms are hastily booked and plans changed. The inevitable angry idiots with low self-esteem decide that if they shout loud enough at the check-in staff, the fog will lift and flights will be re-instated. No doubt they will claim that the weather is an act of God, sent to punish BA for their discriminatory dress code.
Amazingly, I wander up to the Air South West desk, expecting the worst, to be told that Cornwall is clear and our flight through Cardiff will now be going direct to Cornwall (Wales is fog-bound) - so I take off on time and arrive 40 minutes early to a frozen but clear Newquay- my luck is in.
But I do have a “man cold” this morning - so I’m adopting my pathetic look.
Three cheers for Amy, our stewardess on the Air South West flight from Newquay to Manchester at 6.30am this morning.
On a dark and very frosty morning she greeted her 35 passengers with a warming smile - not the easiest thing to do after she presumably had to get up at an unearthly hour like the rest of us (4.00am).
The flight was scheduled to stop over in Cardiff but heavy fog meant a divert to Bristol and she communicated with those affected quickly and calmly, explaining that a coach would take them into Wales and there would be as little delay as possible.
Tea on the next leg to Manchester was delivered with enthusiasm and care for each passengers needs.
We arrived 40 minutes late but the airline was already forgiven because she was such a good ambassador.
All it takes is a smile and the right attitude - it can’t be much fun, working for such a small airline in tiny aircraft - but she made it seem like the best job in the world.
Today I’m meeting clients in Manchester to coach them on the development of a very posh cosmetic dental practice in Bolton - it will also be a first chance for me to see the new Manchester Hilton Hotel on Deansgate - one of the tallest buildings in the UK, recently opened.
I’m worried about the weather and my return flight this evening - fingers crossed.
Bonnie has a new puppy for Christmas!
An, as yet, unnamed German short-haired pointer that is just a yummy as she looks.
After escaping from the crappy Copthorne on Friday morning it’s an easy 45-minute drive to Exeter airport, where an hour’s flight takes me North to Leeds/Bradford, along with the Exeter Chiefs rugby team who are typically boisterous even at this early hour.
At Leeds/Bradford I meet with a client and his accountant to dicuss a major dental project that wll have to stay under wraps for now but which will launch in January 2008. It will be an important business, providing services to dentistry in Yorkshire and I’m planning to become involved as a participant and investor, as well as business coach.
I ask my Yorkshire-born client “how’s business?” and he responds that his appointment book is crammed with patients who want their cosmetic dentistry completed before Christmas.
“It’s like staircarpets and fireplaces”, he adds, “everyone wants them delivered before the break.”
An expression I hadn’t heard before - it has me giggling.
We hire a board room at the airport for 2 hours for an excellent meeting - and I’m then delayed on my return journey by a passenger who departs the in-bound flight from Aberdeen, thinking she has already reached Exeter on the return journey.
The airport terminal is searched and she is found, re-united with her baggage and makes a late and very embarrassed re-entry to the flight after the pilot has told all of the other passengers about her mistake. My neighbour on the flight quips that she must have thought she was on an F-111 and not a twin-prop passenger aircraft.
Whilst the passengers are in suprisingly relaxed mood at the delay, our stewardess has a faced like a slapped-arse and is outraged that a stupid customer is making her late home.
It’s not just this passenger that’s feeling the brunt of her miserable attitude though - she never breaks into a smile on either leg of the flight (same crew) and, on our return, I’m sat in row 3 and have a chance to observe, sensing a blog post.
Slap face is about as amused by the presence of a rugby team in the morning as the Chief Rabbi being offered a bacon roll. All through the airport, the staff (even the security staff) were joking with the young lads on the team (local heros) but not our trolley-dolly. In fact I can sense a competition - “you are NOT going to make me smile”.
Fortunately, she is too old to be of interest to these virile giants - so they ignore her - which probably sours her mood.
On our return journey an elderley gentleman struggles to the top of the steps with his hand baggage and asks as he sees her “I’m on row 17, where is that?”
Now I know that’s a pretty dumb question but he’s an old codger and obviously doesn’t fly often.
Her answer is “it’s 17 rows down there” - delivered with a deadpan expression, demonstrating that she hates her job and has low personal self-esteem.
So why the hell work as a stewardess? Why not just get a job in a mental institution and become the Nurse Ratched that she obviously wants to emulate?
I fail to understand - and she ain’t no ambassador for FlyBe.com.

Back to Exeter by 6.00pm and, on a dark, windy and wet night I tolerate a final 2-hour drive across the barren moors of Devon and Cornwall before the working week ends.
One more flight (to Manchester next week) and then the travel really is over.
..I stayed last night at the Copthorne Hotel in Plymouth.
A trip to Plymouth yesterday and a flight from Exeter to Leeds/Bradford later this morning were enough to suggest that just one more overnight stay this year would be tolerable.
Outside, the hotel looks like a Stasi interrogation centre.
I even have spikes embedded on the window-sill of my 4th floor room, so that I cannot attempt suicide?

Inside it’s just another tired, 70’s building that needed refurbishment in 1989 - but we had a recession that year.
I disappear into my “executive” (ha!) room and hunker down for the evening.
At 5.00pm 200+ North American coaches listen to me give an hour’s presentation on how I built my practice and we then enjoy some questions and answers.
At 8.00pm 20 dentists join me for a webinar - all of us live with VoIP and web-cams - looking at my PowerPoint on Ethical Selling and asking more questions until nearly 10.00pm. They are a good group and I enjoy using the technology - how great that 20 of us can meet face to face from all around the country.
In between the “gigs” I wander out on to the streets of Central Plymouth and grab some fast food and an esspresso. The city shopping centre was built in the 60’s and has to be one of the ugliest in the country.
Hitler bombed the first town centre flat - and somebody really does need to invite Osama Bin Laden to hold a training weekend here. Just ask the residents to leave and blow the whole place to bits - then hold a reality TV show for B-listed celebrities to come and rebuild it.
Cross Plymouth off your list of places to visit.
I’m off to Exeter airport.
Telephone call-in day has just concluded are here is a compendium of the main questions asked:
I loved the last question - to which I replied “marketing is like breathing - I cannot think of a single reason to ever stop doing it.”
As always, the call-in days give me a great R&D experience on what the “issues” are out there.
Lot’s of talk about bonuses right now, as the year end approaches and clients are either paying them and/or announcing next year’s scheme.
Now that my tour is over I really want to get my head around this concept again - UK dentistry is about to explode as an economic force and I’m becoming concerned that if I don’t do something soon - someone else will or the boat will pass us by.
We asked 20 of our clients to attend a weekend retreat last September and they helped us to evolve a shopping list of services that small independent practitioners would want to compete with the “big boys”.
I invested £5,000 in that weekend, have that list and have done little with it since then.
I’m hoping that the next 10 days will give me a chance to move the project forward.
What’s in my mind is that, rather then trying to raise millions to launch a large organisation - we just make a start with a smaller group of pilot practices and evolve the company as we go along.
I’m looking for volunteers.
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