Infidelity in Trancoso

May 28, 2013May 19, 2013caroline hughes Leave a comment

The Mack was incredulous when I told him that I was leaving Salvador and travelling a further 15 hours down coast. “But you’ve just flown a really long way to get there. Why are you going even further?”. I spoke to him patiently, like you would to a small, rather stupid, child. “Brazil is a very big country”, I said, “4th largest if you don’t count Alaska and Hawaii as part of the US. Everywhere here is far away.”

My longest bus ride. 12 hours overnight. I consoled myself with the fact that I was saving myself a night’s accommodation. Even for a skinflint like me, that wasn’t quite consolation enough. I’d optimistically thought that the bus would be like the one The Mack and I took from Sao Paulo to Rio, where we had little TVs in the seatback, neck support pillows and snack boxes and I had room enough to curl up in my seat.

Not exactly. The seats did recline pretty far back, but any comfort there was off-set by the fact that the guy next to me had no concept of personal space and spent the entire journey unapologetically sprawled over me. There was a movie on a screen in the aisle – some terrible rom-com with Uma Thurman. Did wonders for my Portuguese. Less so for my neck tendons as I craned to view the subtitles.

The bus dumped me in Porto Seguro at 8am. Then a taxi ride across town which, for a 4km journey, cost almost as much as the bus and made me very cross. Then a little ferry across to Arraial. Then another hour on a local bus to my actual destination, Trancoso.

beach chic

I’d found Trancoso in my new fave online guidebooks, Moon. I picked it at random, but then it was endorsed by our hosts from Rio, so I took that as a good sign. I wanted to go on further to Caraiva, which is supposed to be an idyllic paradise lost, but the access is difficult in rainy season and I didn’t fancy getting stranded, what with my travel track record.

Just before I left Salvador, I happened to read in another guidebook that Trancoso is very popular with the fash pack. Mario Testino and La Moss holiday there regularly, apparently. That was nearly enough to make me cancel my bus. One way ticket to poseurville? No thanks.

my little ponies

But, predictably, I loved it there. The main hub of the town is the Quadrado, basically a village green, with a pretty church overlooking the sea and little shops, pousadas and restaurants all around the perimeter. The bastards tapped into everything I like. Ponies grazing on the grass. Coloured lanterns in the trees. Nice restaurants. Shops filled with beautiful, pointless things.

a sucker for twinkly lights

It’s difficult to describe the vibe. It’s chi chi but in an understated way (it reminds me of Primrose Hill many, many years ago before it went beyond bleurgh and disappeared up its own arse). It doesn’t feel wholly Brazilian – probably because so many of the restaurant/shop/pousada owners are Europeans, but it’s still really laid back and, in off season, pretty quiet and sleepy.

natural pools on praia dos nativos

The beaches are nice, although not as spectacular as some I’ve seen (picky, picky), and it’s tricky to walk the length of the beach because the sand slopes really steeply into the sea, so you look like you have one gammy leg. However, if you’re lucky, like I was, you’ll find the still-gasping severed head of a barracuda on the beach. Thrilling!

all washed up

If you were to ask me where to come on a coupley beach holiday in Brazil for a couple of weeks, I’d say Trancoso hands down. It’s sophisticated enough, but not showy. It’s not too expensive (and downright cheap in off-season – I paid £25/night for a lovely 2-storey bungalow in a pousada with pool and gardens) and you feel at ease there immediately. Plus, you can fly into Porto Seguro from all the Brazilian international airports, so you don’t need to brave the bus.

even the walkway to the beach is romantic…

It’s very romantic. Which is great when you’re travelling alone. There’s nothing quite like going out for dinner à une only to see happy couples and families drinking and laughing together. Put me right off my food.

Happily, on my last day there, I made a friend. Romina, who lives in Buenos Aires, but who grew up carioca in Rio, loathes Argentina, and is fiendishly plotting her path back to Brazil for good. She confessed that she’d been so put off by being the only single person in Trancoso that she’d just stayed in her pousada every night. It also transpired that her pousada was a bit out of town, down some unsavoury-looking dark lane. When I made the journey to pick her up that evening, with my flashlight on full beam and twitching at everything that moved, I didn’t blame her one bit for staying put. I almost suggested calling for a pizza.

holiday fling

We crossed paths with an American/Czech guy who’d been given a trip as a bonus for completing an M&A deal. Ivan, too, was solo, but didn’t seem as bothered about it. At least not now that he’d seen Romina…

It’s been a while since I’ve played gooseberry and I probably should have engineered an excuse to leave the two of them together. But I was damned if I was going to give up English-speaking company.

Especially when Ivan described where he was staying, saying it was like nowhere else he’d ever stayed. And that with the money his company had paid for it, he could have bought a car in Cleveland, OH, where he lives. This I had to see for myself, gooseberry or no gooseberry.

falling in love is so easy to do

Um. I don’t have words to describe Uxua*. I only have an overwhelming sense in my heart that it is The One.

Through an unassuming stable door into the hallway, where the night guard courteously overlooks the fact that their newest guest has brought back a couple of girls who appear to be salivating. And straight into wonderland.

Everything was exactly right. The teal colours used throughout combined with the wood and concrete. The cracked enamel basins in the public bathroom. The aquamarine swimming pool. The magnificently planted and expertly lit garden, which gave each casita space and privacy.

meu amor

Uxua’s made up of different residences, some are little houses dotted around the Quadrado, others are built within the gardens of the main pousada.

Ivan was in the Casa da Avore (the treehouse). It was spectacular. Swings and loveseats below in the garden. Wooden stairs up to the living area, with a huge muslin-draped bed, rustic bathroom and terrace with a sofa, hammock and bar. The full-height veranda doors opened with little wheels travelling along tracks above. Never have I been somewhere where I felt that everything was exactly as it should be. I fell head over heels. And that was before I found out about the private hot tub.

swoon

I felt privileged to spend time there. It’s rare for me to find nothing to criticise. Romina had to catch a bus at 6am to make her flight at 9. We left sometime around 3.30am, because we couldn’t drag ourselves away (although perhaps for different reasons…). Ivan took photos of us lounging at his place and emailed them to his friends. We let him – the man had the ultimate pimp palace – I just felt bad I hadn’t dressed for the occasion.

I, with my deep-rooted Catholic guilt, of course immediately confessed to The Mack that I’d transferred my affections to another. I explained that it was as if someone had climbed inside my head and created my dream house, where all of my possessions would fit perfectly.

“That’s great, babe”, he said, “speak to the owners. Tell them that you’ve got a load of stuff in storage that you think would be just perfect for them. We save on storage costs, and your stuff gets to live in its ideal environment…”

No soul, that man.

—————–

*Of course, it turns out that the man behind Uxua, Wilbert Das, was the former creative director of Diesel for 15 years. So maybe that fash pack connection isn’t all bad.

eliminating obstacles to success…one at a time

May 1, 2013May 1, 2013caroline hughes Leave a comment

I realised today, whilst strolling along deserted beaches to a beautiful lagoon in Tibau do Sul, Brazil, that I’ve written a lot recently about my travels and not quite so much about my business. Which probably leads most of you to think that all this “business” stuff is just my way of saying that I couldn’t hack it in the rat race and have decided to give myself the rest of my life off.

Nearly, but not quite.

If you remember, the idea wasn’t so much to drop off the grid entirely, it was more to set the grid to roaming. Seeing if it were possible to have a work/travel/bank balance. Not spending more than 4 months at a time in the UK unless there was a very good reason (either I was incarcerated, or in traction, or my mum simply forbade me from flitting off again). But getting some sort of business up and running to pay for the travels, so that I wasn’t burning through my cash.

Again. Nearly, but not quite. (Getting there.)

At the time I started all this, I hadn’t factored on The Mack getting in on the act. With hindsight, it’s probably one of the reasons that we got together. But I was so busy thinking that he’d Derren Brown-ed me into being his girlfriend that I wasn’t paying attention. All that tappety-tap-tapping my shoulder and repeating seemingly innocuous words. And leaving a trail of gingerbread men on my route to our first date. I mean. The Mack is ginger. And he’s a man. The fact that I didn’t see them because they’d been squashed by passing commuters didn’t stop their subliminal power.

Anyway, much as I would love to lay the blame for my lack of results squarely at The Mack’s door by saying that he’s diverted my focus, jumped on the start-up bandwagon, addled my brain with wantrepreneurial jargon… that would be (1) wrong, (2) wrong and (3) wrong. Because, if the truth be told, I probably wouldn’t have got as far as I have if it weren’t for him.

Thanks to The Mack, I’ve identified the top 3 things that have been stopping me making progress on the business side of things and I’ve figured out a solution to each of them.

Issue #1: Never Seeing Anything Through to the End

I am excellent at starting things. And doing a nice design. I am less successful when it comes to completing anything. Or caring at all after about 2 weeks. Or when someone distracts me with something shiny.

Apparently, this lack of motivation for really pushing through on my projects is down to my inherent pessimism.

You say pessimist, I say realist. Let’s call the whole thing off…

Solution #1: Learned Optimism

The Mack bought me a great book by a guy who made up the idea that you can learn to be more optimistic and that it will transform your life. I was a little sceptical. Oh wait…

I started reading it and my productivity levels went right up.

Unfortunately, I **accidentally** left it in the seat back of the plane to Buenos Aires.

What a downer.

Issue #2: Contrasting Working Styles

I have discovered through this process that I’m quite difficult to work with. I can’t quite put my finger on exactly why that is, but it seems to have something to do with the fact that I need to get my own way on everything because my way is the right way and everybody else is stupid and wrong.

I don’t know. It might be that. It probably isn’t though. Probably it’s The Mack’s fault. For being stupid and wrong.

Solution #2: Working Space

I think that space is very important when you’re a couple working together. Right now it’s about 4,500 miles and things seems to be going well.

Issue #3: Hating the Game

I have a slight problem with the whole start up scene. I think it’s the combination of self-congratulation and jaw-dropping naivety that sticks in my craw. And when I say slight problem: what I mean is utter contempt.

I’m not even sure how I ended up working on start ups. I think my plan was just to have my own business. I don’t remember ever talking about wanting to build a start up. Tappety-tap-tap….

Solution #3: Hate the Player

Hell, this one’s easy. Every time I catch The Mack reading one of Paul Graham’s essays or signing up to a General Assembly workshop, I openly despise him.

I think now that I’ve eliminated these issues, progress will come in leaps and bounds. Stay tuned, people.

Buenos Aires: big Mack style

April 18, 2013April 17, 2013caroline hughes Leave a comment

So The Mack flew out about a week ago to join me in Buenos Aires and, in typical fashion, I greeted him with clenched fists rather than the traditional open arms. I would love to be one of those girls who gets really excited at the prospect of 3 weeks’ quality time, away from it all. But I’m far too uptight for that.

It’s ok. We’ve developed a system. We wake up, get a few hours’ work done. Have a huge fight. Then head out for some lunch and sightseeing.

I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is about The Mack that winds me up. It seems to be everything. Let’s see…

He can’t speak Spanish, so I have to do all the talking. And when he does try a few words, he says them in a deep throaty growl, so he sounds like a Latin American Tony the Tiger. “Una cervesa-grrrrrrr”. Funny the first time…

The fact that no bread basket is safe within a 5 metre radius.

But mainly because he wants to do stuff all the time. Not just mooching around, but stuff that requires some degree of organising. I mean, how dare he come all the way over here and then want to do something interesting. Why the hell can’t he be content with just being here? So bloody unreasonable.

What can I say, I tried my hardest to deter him, but the man is strong-willed. And thank God he is, because otherwise we would have missed out on some corkers.

So I give you Buenos Aires: big Mack style…

Food

At least one meal a day must consist of something that your girlfriend/wife/cardiac surgeon says is bad for you. If you can, try to combine deep fried with pastry and sugar. Plenty of options in Buenos Aires. Sweet and meaty empanadas? Dulce de leche with everything? Two double-scoop ice-creams back-to-back, with extra sauce and cookie sprinkles? Don’t mind if he does.

Teatime at Las Violetas

The Mack said that he’d always had dreams of retiring to Buenos Aires and could picture himself as a bald, fat man in a white linen suit. Sadly, we weren’t able to find the linen suit….

Orientation

Have absolutely no sense of direction and claim that it’s because they built BsAs the wrong way round. Seriously think about downloading a compass app so that you can find North. Regularly say to your girlfriend: “it’s that way, right”? Er, wrong.

Mix with locals

Use vayable.com to find interesting tours and experiences given by local people – we did a tour of the lesser known Caballito district (cool barber-shop museum and an incredibly ornate church where Pope Francis was baptised, no less) and a wine-tasting (which I spoiled by being a know-all and the best taster was actually the Mendoza olive oil).

Buy yourself a pair of finest Argentinian leather brogues. In a colour that can only be described as dirt-cowboy-yellow.

Point out to locals the inherent flaws in their economic and fiscal policies. And make a sound like a ticking clock when talking about their future. Then say that it’s such a shame, because they really were such a highly educated, civilised, wealthy nation…

Nature

Be afraid, be very afraid of the gargantuan koi carp in the Jardin Japonais. Especially the one that looks like it has false eyelashes. Make sure you push a few small children in front of you for easier bait.

Sports

Make sure you get to a football game. Don’t bother with Boca Juniors – $200 a head to sit with a load of other gringos doesn’t make for fun times. The Mack found a great guy called Eze through Vayable who took us to his family’s box at Independiente to watch a relegation battle.

Thoroughly woeful match (no structure to their play and the worst back four we’d ever seen), but great atmosphere. And we had the excitement of being bundled into Eze’s uncle’s car as the final whistle blew to avoid being beaten to death by the Independiente fans who were baying for the Chairman’s blood after the 1-1 draw (the Chairman’s box was 3 down from ours…). Footballing passion in spades.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxvlFqLHxpc

Culture

Admire the old Mafioso-looking men at the afternoon milonga at Confiteria Ideal. Feel truly like the Mack Daddy when they ask you for permission to dance with your chicas.

Get suckered into trying a tango lesson when you’d only turned up at Café Vinilo so early because you wanted to be sure to get a table. Mangle your girlfriend’s feet and get frustrated that Tango is such a restrictive dance when you’re just itching to bust some moves. Console yourself with the full Latin cheesiness of the club singer. Decide that the chorus lyrics to all tango songs are probably “Antonio Banderas, Antonio Banderas, Antonio Banderas…. and Penelope Cruz“.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRjdplWkIb8

Off the Beaten Track

Take a trip out to the delta at Tigre. Ignore the weather forecast and sit on a speedboat for 6 hours wearing only a t-shirt. Discover that the river plate makes it possible to walk on water for a stretch of about 60km between Tigre and Buenos Aires (you might have to swim the last 200-odd metres). Bang on about this amazing phenomenon for the rest of your trip/life. Don’t worry about whether anyone’s listening.

Tigre Delta

And then congratulate yourself for a job well done. Next stop, Uruguay.

–

Lessons Learned in Buenos Aires

April 6, 2013caroline hughes Leave a comment

My friend Aimee is putting herself through a self-imposed tango bootcamp here in Buenos Aires. Most of which involves her lying on the floor wearing 80s flashdance leggings and breathing deeply – she claims it’s incredibly taxing, but we’re yet to be convinced).

They take tango very seriously here. Aimee is not allowed to breathe standing up until she has learned to breathe properly lying down. And that could take weeks. Apparently she needs to learn to soften her breastbone. Since bones are notoriously tricky things to soften, I don’t rate her chances.

She has bought some very beautiful red suede tango shoes from a famous shop here in BsAs, called Comme il Faut. If you have a foot fetish, then may I suggest this as a suitable place of worship. In the upstairs room of a little row of boutique shops, women line the edges, feet naked as the day they were born, their eyes lit up with the feverish glow of the true believer. There are almost no shoes on display. In this shop, you simply tell the assistants your size and they bring you heaped boxes of jewel-coloured stilettos. It is a reverent place, voices are not raised except for little squeals and moans of pleasure.

I feel they’re missing a trick with their business. If it were mine, I would make all the mirrors one-way and create a space in the backroom for pedi-voyeurs. Double the revenue, double the pleasure-giving. Win, win, kerr-ching.

holiday vs work/travel

This trip for me is the first real stress-test of the new lifestyle. The idea was that the money I’d save by not living in London would fund the trip, so I’d come away from a 2 month adventure cash neutral. And since I’ll carry on working on business ideas whilst I’m travelling, I’m not losing any time on income-generating projects.

Like so many of my ideas, this one’s proving great at a conceptual level and about a million miles wide of the mark in real life…

Firstly, South America is not cheap. If, like me, you are pretty rough round the edges when it comes to actual knowledge on anything political or socio-economical, then you probably think that poor old Argentina is still on the financial skids and you’ll be living like a king on a couple of pesos a day.

Not quite. Great quality beef is cheap. You can feast on a side of cow quite happily for £10 a meal. But that’s where the gravy train ends. Accommodation is expensive. Drinks are around the same price as in London. Flights are extortionate and the amazing long-distance bus service has significantly ramped up its prices in recent times.

If you’re used to travelling in India and South East Asia, then South America will feel like you’re taking a sledgehammer to your savings account. I’m realising that city living = city living, no matter where you are. Which makes it fine if your plan is to stay put in a city for a few months and live like a local (like these guys do: http://istanbul.for91days.com/). Not so good if you’re seeing the sights a lot and eating out twice a day.

In other words, I’m 10 days in and I’ve rinsed through an awful lot of cash.

important lessons

I’ve learned some valuable lessons since I’ve been here:

– I’m probably not cut out to be a tango dancer, so that’s one potential source of revenue gone. I tried to blame my malco-ordination on the fact I was wearing flat shoes, but in truth I just can’t pivot in any way that doesn’t remind me of that old advert with the dancing hippos. And I’m tense. Very tense. All the time.

– I really should do a bit more research (than none) on the places I’m visiting. At least to find out if I can vaguely afford to spend time in them and, if so, for how long. I like to think I’m being spontaneous and carefree. In reality, I’m just in denial and increasing debt.

– Being away is great for creating space and focus to get on with projects. Everything feels less pressured here and it’s amazing how much more energy you’re willing to put into work when you have new places to explore.

The Mack arrives today, so it will be back to the regime of post-it notes and time-keeping. I’m not feeling anywhere near as cross about it as I do when I’m in London. But that could be because I now know my way around Buenos Aires, so if it gets too much, I can just go off grid and he’ll never, ever find me…

Burger King, Buenos Aires-style

Fear or Desire: what motivates you??

February 21, 2013caroline hughes 1 Comment

The Mack and I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking and talking about food.

The Mack’s one of those guys who’s always thinking at least one meal ahead. We’ll be mid-way through a big cooked breakfast and he’ll start wondering aloud what we ought to do about lunch, smacking his lips and emitting deep belly groans at the thought of more food. Worryingly Homer Simpson.

With me, it’s more the typical no-carb obsessiveness of someone who worked on the fringes of fashion and who has an entire wardrobe of size 8 clothes. Dullsville. But absolutely necessary.

primitive motivation

The Mack says that it’s simply his genetic coding. He’s hardwired to be a hunter-gatherer, so it’s only right that he’s always planning where his next meal is coming from. It’s usually coming from Sainsbury’s, but I guess it’s good to plan…

We’re all ultimately driven by two things: fear and desire. The proportions vary from person to person and often from situation to situation, but whatever gloss you add to justify your particular actions, if you strip it back you’ll find plain old fear or desire (or a combination of both).

Marketeers have had this sussed for yonks. They play us constantly on both sides. The aspirational longing – if only I had that watch/car/phone, I would be instantly cooler. The insecurity and inadequacy – I must buy all the anti-aging creams I can afford because no-one wants to be with a wrinkly old hag.

New-fangled marketing is no different. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, FourSnore, all are built on these two pillars of what it means to be human. It is the desire to belong, to be connected, to share. And the fear that if we don’t participate in these collective obsessions, then we are marginalised, we’re not really living. You’ve probably noticed it amongst some of your friends too – they upload so much of their day-to-day existence: it’s as though they believe that if it’s not captured and published, then it doesn’t count.

Strange, but maybe that’s what those cave paintings were all about…?

fanning the flames

I’m largely immune to the normal desire sales triggers. Show me all the magnum adverts in the world and I’m still not buying. Even those ones with triple caramel and almonds all swirling around hypnotically. Spare me. I grew up in the 80s with soft-focus Flake adverts and the Caramel bunny. Do you really think I’d fall for that lame old seduction routine??

So desire doesn’t really do it for me. I know this because I contrast my approach to starting up a business with The Mack’s. He’s a go-getting, nothing-stands-in-his-way, smash-some-walls-down, bish-bash-bosh (his words, not mine), laser-beam-focused, machine. He has energy, purpose and clarity of thought. He makes decisions quickly, moves on and gets shit done. And then he howls at the moon and beats his chest. (That last bit is, unfortunately, not made up – he hired a lion mask last weekend for my sister’s fancy dress party and seems in no hurry to take it back to the shop).

This is because he is driven by desire. He wants to succeed and he enjoys the process of making things happen. It’s quite impressive in action.

Whereas my approach is more stagnant puddle than flowing torrent of ambition. Sure, I get the occasional burst of enthusiasm for my projects, where I’ll splash around happily in the puddle for a day or so. But ultimately all that happens is that I churn up the mud at the bottom. And no-one’s investing in mud. So I stop.

scaredy scaredy…

But fear, now that I can relate to. According to The Mack, the 3 little words that I say to him most often are, “Babe, I’m worried…” And I have a really good scared face.

I think, on the whole, women do anxiety better than men. Maybe it’s because we’re so adept at multi-tasking. It means that we can worry about 821 things simultaneously. What a gift.

The downside of using fear as your primary motivator is that it has a tendency to paralyse you, rather than spur you on to greatness. You don’t often hear really successful people interviewed saying that what made them was sheer blind terror. It’s always burning ambition, passion, desire for self-improvement. Fear and self-loathing don’t seem to feature much in rags to riches stories. Well, unless Oliver Twist is your mentor.

On the one hand, my lack of need to prove anything or to feel productive just for the sake of it, is hugely liberating. On the other hand, it might be the thing that hampers me making a go of this new lifestyle. I’ve chosen a path that requires me to be enthusiastic, proactive and self-starting. And then I’ve basically covered myself in quick-setting tar and feathers and wondered why I’m struggling to move off the sofa.

I’m essentially living the life of a still-sprightly octogenarian. Those little chores that used to sit on the periphery of my life (the supermarket run, online banking, hoovering) are now right up top of my to-do list. I haven’t got to the point where I need an afternoon nap yet, but it can’t be far off.

But I’m not worried (well, maybe a teensy bit). Because I know that the longer my state of apathy and paralysis lasts, the more anxious I will become about it. And one day soon, the fear of losing this lifestyle will force me into action. I just don’t think it’s a job for today… I’ve got some washing up to do.

let’s get quizzical … how to ask the right questions in business

November 27, 2012November 27, 2012caroline hughes Leave a comment

According to The Mack, I am truly gifted at asking the right questions. The questions that other people don’t even think of. He thinks it may be because I ask soooooo many goddamn questions that a few of them end up being on the money. Still, he did say that he thought it was my greatest single weapon in my quest for ~~world domination~~, ahem, starting a business. And so I thought I’d better write that down for posterity. And then prove it.

Question Mark Graffiti (Photo credit: Bilal Kamoon)

critical thinking

As a lawyer, you are (if you’re any good), pretty accomplished at taking a whole load of information – most of which has been babbled at you by a client whose method of expressing themselves most closely resembles a neural pinball game – and corralling that information into some semblance of order.

You then have to extract the relevant issues from the information you’ve assimilated, analyse those issues, apply the legal knowledge and expertise that you’re supposed to have to those issues, and come up with a solution for your client.

The way you do all of that? Questions, questions and more questions. And I’ve discovered it helps if you write the answers down.

The same rules apply when it comes to your business. Learn to ask the right questions of the right people and the whole start up process will suddenly seem so much less daunting.

Q. when should I ask questions and when should I pretend that I already know everything?

A. I don’t really have a fear of asking questions (quizophobia??), nor of looking stupid (statistical probability). I’m one of those superficially knowledgeable people. You know, a bit like Henry’s Cat. I know lots and lots about nothing, and not too much about that… So I can come across as worldly and clued up, but actually I’m pretty darn ignorant.

Which means that, if I’m in a situation where I’m lucky enough to be talking to someone who actually has real, genuine, actual, honest-to-god knowledge about a topic, I will happily quiz them till I run out of questions (or they run out the door, whichever comes first). My mantra – if you don’t ask, you don’t get.

My thinking is, most people like to share their knowledge. It gives them the gentle glow of superiority. Asking questions of someone demonstrates that you are interested in what they have to say. And that is precious salve to the average human ego. Don’t waste an opportunity to get your hands on some expertise, just because you’re worried what the “expert” will think of you. Most times they won’t remember you anyway…

Q. what questions should I be asking?

A. Good question, you’re getting the hang of this! It’s going to depend on the context. The way I formulate questions is to break down my problem into logical segments based on what I know already, so that I can identify the gaps in my knowledge (‘cos that’s where the questions are hiding).

Let’s take the scenario where you have an idea for a product, but you need someone to help you with the design and development of that product. You’ve found a few potential developers, but you’re unsure who to go with. You’ve asked a few basic questions, like how much will it cost and what the initial steps would be. But what else?

Here I adopt a Johari’s Window* style analysis (ooh, fancy). Between you and the developer there are four possible combinations of shared knowledge:

1. known knowns: these are facts about the product/development process that are known to both you and the developer. So these answers are already in the bag. Right now, these might only be the basic description of your idea and the cost and initial steps of the development process.

2. known unknowns: (also called your “blind spot”) this is information that is known by the developer but which is not known by you. This is where you should be formulating your questions. Ask the developer what experience they have in working with people in your situation and with similar ideas to yours. How does the development process work? What input will they need from you and what form will this take (e.g. meetings, telephone calls, emails?). How long will the process take? What problems have they encountered on previous projects and what have they done to resolve them? Do they envisage any problems here? What do the quoted costs specifically include? Are there any hidden/extra costs?

3. unknown knowns: this is information that you have squirrelled away in your head, but that the developer might need in order to do the job or even accurately to quote for it. Don’t hold back information (if you’re worried about confidentiality, get the developer to sign an NDA). Try to give the developer as much info as you can think of. Then ask the developer what other information they need from you now and ongoing on the project.

4. unknown unknowns: in this context, these will be things that neither you nor the developer have thought of. Don’t worry about that. I’ve never once come across a project that didn’t bring up some unknown unknowns (also called WTFs). If you’ve asked the right questions in the earlier stages, then it shouldn’t be anything that you two can’t handle. You’ll be fine.

Q. who should I ask?

A. Generally, someone with more knowledge than you on the subject. Or Stephen Fry. Probably.

But seriously, I’m a practical problem solver. I don’t often go in for conceptual debates on hypothetical issues of the day. I want straightforward, pragmatic, relevant advice. Preferably from someone who’s been there, done that, got it right (or better, got it wrong and figured out how to get it right next time) and written the book.

That doesn’t mean that I expect other people to fix my problems and give me all the answers. But it does mean that I seek out people with specific experience in dealing with my particular issue (and I’ll interrogate them mercilessly to pinpoint the relevance of that experience).

I’m also prepared to pay for that expertise. Scrimping on real expertise is a massive false economy. I’m not suggesting being overawed by their brilliance and telling them to name their price. I am saying that if by paying for their advice it enables you to skip forward 3 steps on your business plan, then that’s money well spent. And, in my world, it entitles you to tap them for some free follow-up advice should you need it in the future.

Q. so I should just follow their advice to the letter, then?

A. Err, no. Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? What is the topic of this post? That’s right, questions… Keep up.

Check that the advice or proposal given actually solves your problem. It’s a bit like exam essay writing at school. You remember? When the teachers drummed it into you to ANSWER THE QUESTION. Yet it’s amazing how common it is for someone to think they’ve given you the perfect answer, but actually they’ve turned sharp left and embarked on an utterly irrelevant tangent. On your time and money.

If you don’t feel that you’ve got your answer (and you’re paying for it), then go back and ask for clarification. Don’t be scared that you’ll look foolish – there is nothing more foolish than paying for a service that you haven’t received. It’s a bit trickier if you’re asking for free advice – you’ll probably be told to jog on – but you never know your luck!

A quick final word on that last point. By all means, take full advantage of any expertise you can draw on for free amongst friends and family, but be aware that this comes at a price to them (their time and energy), so be considerate, very grateful and prepared to do something for them in return.

*Nerd note: Johari’s Window is usually used for self-awareness and character analysis. But I think it works just fine for this purpose too.

the rise of the wantrepreneur

October 31, 2012November 1, 2012caroline hughes 4 Comments

Most of you won’t know this, but I have a visceral hatred of joining in. I’m not sure what it stems from psychologically, but it’s a feeling shared by my sisters. Maybe because there are four of us siblings and my mum’s one of eight, so between our extended family, friends etc., we’ve got a capacity rent-a-crowd going on without any effort at all. No joining required.

It’s not that I can’t be sociable. It’s just that I hate forced fun. Or the sort of verging-on-hysterical collective enthusiasm that seems to spawn from spending the weekend with a bunch of strangers on any sort of “teamwork” exercise.

All told, it’s a miracle I made it to Launch48. I suspect that The Mack may have slipped something into a glass of milk to get me there, B.A. Baracus style. I pity this fool…

But make it I did (I may have turned up a little late… Ha! Take that, organisers, you’re not the boss of me…). I spent a total of 28 hours over a weekend in the company of strangers, in a room with no windows. And I paid for the privilege.

Launch48: the concept

Here’s their schtick: willing punters pitch ideas for tech/online businesses on the Friday night; you pick a team to join and spend all day Saturday and Sunday developing your idea, building your prototype and launching it to critical acclaim.

It’s run by a team of facilitators and mentors with different business backgrounds and skill sets to give you guidance (for which read idea-shredding) over the course of the weekend. It’s part of Oxygen Accelerator, a scheme that takes nascent start-ups and provides a framework and seed funding to grow their business to the next level. The idea being that Launch48 funnels great talent or great ideas into a ready-made incubator system.

There’s no specific methodology taught here – it’s not like Lean Startup Machine which is all about the process – it’s more about learning as you go and relying on the skills of your team members and input from the mentors.

the rise of the wantrepreneur

The thing that struck me the most over the weekend was that it confirmed this growing feeling I’ve had since deciding to go into business for myself. That entrepreneurialism is now a mainstream aspiration. And every man, woman and dog is trying their hand at it. There’s even a term for them (me): wantrepreneur. Catchy.

And the fact is, the barriers to becoming an entrepreneur (particularly an online entrepreneur) have never been lower. I’ve added links at the end of this post to various projects that were launched over the Launch48 weekend. This shows what can be created in a really short period of time, with limited resource and pretty much zero capital. Pretty impressive.

Now some of you will be reading this thinking – great, the internet has democratised what was once the preserve of the rich, or the well-connected, or the MBA graduate. And I agree that there is something cool in entrepreneurship being more accessible.

But I can’t help but feel that maybe Elvis has left the building. Or is at least on his way to the loo….

My concerns are threefold:

It’s too easy to ignore the doubts: because it’s so relatively simple and cheap to translate an idea into an online presence, people forget that just because you can create an app for something or create an online service or product, it doesn’t mean that you have a business.

My Launch48 team was as guilty of this as anyone. We created a web-based app to help people be more organised. We identified a niche market for that product and it had some useful functionality. But when we looked closer, the problem that our product was designed to solve really wasn’t that big a problem for our target market. And for our affiliate revenue model to work, we needed a lot of customers to use our product. Bottom line: if customers don’t really care about the problem you’re trying to solve, then that’s a hobby project, not a business. I’m out.

It’s a crowded marketplace: nowadays, you do any kind of competitor analysis on your idea and chances are Google is going to spit out a gazillion hits of people all doing something similar in your target space. Some of the mentors I spoke to about this said they weren’t worried. That the best ideas, if well-executed, will always rise to the top.

I’m not so sure. I don’t think it’s enough to do something well. I think that from the customer perspective, all that competitor noise in the market is a huge distraction. It diverts attention away from your idea. It turns customers off. Unless you’ve got a truly unique angle or you’re in another league to your competition, to them you’re just another [insert your product or service here].

It seduces you into thinking building a business is easy: I worked for a company that grew to four times its size over the four years I was there. I’ve seen first-hand just how difficult it is to build a sustainable, dynamic business from scratch. Getting your idea to some tangible form is barely step one. Turning that into a real business is the rest of the story. I like that there are programmes like Oxygen Accelerator that try to help fledgling startups find their feet, because it’s pretty brutal out there if you’re trying to do this alone.

I like to think that I’ve picked up a bit of experience over the past 10 years. And I still don’t feel equipped to run a real business. I know that it will be a continuous learning curve and I’m fully prepared to fall flat on my face. I’m all in favour of enthusiasm and having a go. But I think there’s wisdom in knowing when to get help from more experienced people and learning to identify when it’s time to pull the plug, rather than pivot.

wanna join in?

If you’re thinking of attending a Launch48, Lean Startup Machine, Startup Weekend or any of the other workshops that are springing up all over town, here’s my guide to help you decide if it’s for you:

It’s for you:

– if you just want to see what this start-up lark’s all about;

– if you want to meet enthusiastic fellow wantrepreneurs and share ideas in an open, encouraging and facilitated environment;

– if you’ve got a burning idea and want to test it without spending much money and by using resources (designers, developers, mentors) that you might not otherwise have access to. One of the Launch48 teams had a fairly well-developed idea and they used the weekend primarily to get developers to help them with A/B testing of various websites.

– if you’re not quite ready to work on your own idea, but want to try out some of the methods for validating business ideas – essentially a trial run before you go and do it for yourself. You’ll pick up tips (using launchrock for a free landing page instead of paying for unbounce; using Amazon Web Services for pretty much everything your baby web app might need) that’ll save you time and money.

– if you want to talk to people who are already living the tech start-up dream. The mentors are encouraging but realistic. They’re not there to humour you, they’re there to challenge your hypotheses, test your assumptions and make you think like an entrepreneur. They don’t hold back and they don’t sugar coat their feedback. But they do know their onions and they’re more than happy to share their knowledge and experience.

– if you want to get discounts on useful products and services. All of the weekend bootcamps provide participants with a great range of discounts, worth £thousands, on useful services – google adwords, free hosting, design services etc.

What it’s not:

– it’s not the place to come if you’re determined to work only on your idea. We lost around 1/3 of participants after the Friday night. They came, they pitched, their ideas weren’t chosen and they didn’t bother coming back. If that were me, I would be taking that feedback seriously. If you can’t sell it to a bunch of eager wantrepreneurs, you might want to take another look at your idea, buddy…

– it’s not the place to find developers (although apparently Launch48 in Croatia is that place). Developers were outnumbered by business peeps by about 8 to 1. We didn’t have a developer in our team, so don’t come to one of these events expecting it to be a hackathon. It’s not.

– it’s not the place to come to learn all the steps in creating and launching a tech start-up. There are no teaching sessions – you get on with it as best you know how. If skills are what you need, Launch48 has just set up some one day practical workshops for specific skills (e.g. customer discovery; methods for validating ideas etc.) or look at General Assembly‘s programme of workshops and webinars.

– if you already have great business experience, then it’s not the environment to pick up any radical new business skills. The same principles as apply to any business apply to tech startups. I think that the participants who got the most out of the weekend were those who had great ideas but perhaps lacked some of the business-planning and execution experience that the mentors could provide.

If anyone has any questions on Launch48 or Lean Startup Machine, then please post in the comments section and I’ll do my best to answer them.

Last but not least, I’d like to thank the Launch48 organisers for putting up with my world-weary cynicism, general bolshiness and unsolicited “feedback”.

A few of the Launch48 London Teams: