Pearl Harbour

Hamburg. I'm told this is where the old German money is. It's interesting to be in a city that seems so familiar but that i still know nothing about. Like a parallell universe... I get a decent pastel de nata in the portugese part of town (Portugisenviertel, just south of Michaeliskirche) before meeting my friend Hannes and his boss Robert at This Gun Is For Hire. We talk about the merkantile Hamburg (in opposite to the arty Berlin) and the seemingly incurable, risk-averse German society, where being a good team player means to keep your mouth shut and not talk about any difficult truths. There is a general consent that Germany still looks a bit, er, fucked right now - but if they just win the World Cup, I'm sure everything will be OK. (Duh.)

The Beach

Cannes. Lounging away the afternoon, feet in sand, at the posh brasserie on Carlton's Kikki Beach. Enjoying the sun, the smiles and the attentive service . Finally.
Cannes - especially during festival - is a mental extreme-sport for your self-appreciation: you're NOBODY until otherwise proved. The contrast is even bigger than what I get in Copenhagen if I chose to speak Danish (just arrogance) or Swedish (ridicule, abuse or worse).
In spite of us (or Gentry, really) having a meeting booked in the adjoining promotion tent (there are several of these along the beach, giving away luxury freebies to celebs), we got lots of heavy sighs until we had someone call and certify us.
However, I guess all those heavy-sighing French people are just there to help me, because once inside, I'd rather lounge with Angelina than with that couple from Arkansas with pink lapel stickers showing which cruise ship they should be sent back to, in case they get lost.

Casino (close)

Monte Carlo. Went with Gentry (see blog Jan 4) to check out the space for the first store that she's (we're?) opening in August. Too bad it's not finished yet, since it has a huge terasse overlooking the Casino park and the Formula 1 race track (the race is Thursday).
Travel tip #963: Drop your modesty - the only sensible way to get to Monaco from Nice airport is the helicopter service. Ask for 'cash and fly' and you'll get the 8 minute trip for €70 instead of 95. And when you get there, the heli-shuttle will drive you wherever you want.

The Sound of Music

Wien. Back in the city of waltzes after a few days of incubator workshops in Graz. Even though the recorded info-voices in the subway still sound a bit scary, I've liked Vienna since the first time I came here, inter-railing with my pal Anders in 1988 (coming from France, we spent half a day being confused about how expensive everything was, until we remembered that an Austrian schilling was just half a French franc). I like it's compactness combined with the grandness of its buildings and squares, the way it's steeped in history in a contemporary way (with classical music spilling out of windows everywhere). I like its cafés, I like the sausage in the Albertina kiosk (especially in the evening, at Opera break, when the place gets packed by people in tuxedos and evening-gowns downing Käsewurst and Bier) and I like the notion that underneath the polished bourgeois facades of buildings and people, it's all over-analyzed Freudian insanity, barely controlled. And they still play "Life is life" on the radio.

Sweet Smell of Success

At the Siemens Forum in Wien. The University's startup service INiTS has gathered some 150 people to listen to professor and entrepreneur Robert D Hisrich from Thunderbird. I'm mainly here to see the director Michael Rauhofer (incubator managers with a great sense of humor is a rarity) but the speech is quite interesting. I often wonder if it's at all possible to boost entrepreneurship in a protected welfare state - or if you must have the competitive societies of the US or South-east Asia to shake people into action. At events like these - where a successful entrepreneur shares his insights in a personal way, and you can sense the eagerness of the audience - it's easier to believe that it's possible. Can successful companies be built out of pure lust to create something valuable?

Die Macht der Bilder

I'm a Berliner - and proud of it. But sometimes they really make me wonder... As un-hip a brand that Germany has worldwide (sorry, but it's true...), just as cool is Berlin when you ask any conscious world citizen. Still, the city does hardly nothing to develop, exploit or even deserve its growing reputation as creative, stimulating and exciting hub. The marketing of the city is confusing at best. When I finally spot a campaign covering all underground trains that seems to be communicating to visitors , it's a call to local football fans to please, if possible, beat up each other and fellow passengers just a little less when they travel drunk and howling to and from football games.
Come on Berlin, we're being compared to New York, but it's not that New York that we're striving for.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Thursday
I'm having breakfast at Tres in Palma, yet another succesful, stylish Swedish hotel on Mallorca. The instant-hit Portixol in Palma showed the way a few years ago, Puro followed (they also just opened an amazing beach resort in the Palma bay) and now the Portixol people has revamped the huge 50s Hotel Esplendido in Puerto de Soller to parts former glory, parts cool Nordic modernity. All the guidebooks and feature writers seem amazed at how the Swedes always get it so right, no matter if it's the naval charm of Portixol or the ethno-chic of Puro. I think the answer lies in the Swedish seriousness (often mistaken by Danes as boring) - that copying a surface isn't enough: you have to understand how it's done and why, so that you can make your own choices.
In futuristic novels like Jon Courtenay Grimwood's Arabesk trilogy, Scandinavians are depicted as untouchable, mysteriously rich and laid-back high-tech backpackers. Now I know where these society surfers will get their wealth from: being exclusive and still inviting (almost) anyone in.