URSABLOG: On The Road Again

After what seemed like forever, in fact since from another life, I was back on the road again this week. I travelled to Germany on Sunday night, and spent two pleasant days in Hamburg before taking the train up to Copenhagen to attend a party given by Norden after receiving their kind invitation. It was not the first time I had stepped on a plane for over two years – although it did seem my fellow passengers were out of practice judging by the delays in security and boarding – but it was the time I was travelling again for business.

In general people were happy to see me, and I was happy to see them, but it seems some, the younger in particular, have forgotten – or perhaps never learned – the etiquette of business meetings. Maybe they have got used to speaking, and thinking, using text messaging of various types and – I suspect – email as a last resort, but when you are sitting face to face with someone in a meeting room it is a good idea to focus on the physical presence there rather than the virtual one on your phone. I also noted that what was happening on the phone appeared to carry a greater importance than what was happening around in the real world. This is a shame because it is only by engagement with people in the flesh that you can really form relationships. I had the impression in some cases that I was a hologram, or a distraction away from virtual life, rather unnerving considering I take some pride in the fact that I actually exist in flesh and blood.

I probably sound a bit like a grumpy old fart, and I make no apologies for that fact, but in discussion with many of my older contacts – especially those with children – there is a real concern, exacerbated perhaps by COVID, that young people are missing out on real life. I have written about the dangers of social media before and took the step of coming off both Instagram and Facebook for a time. I am back on both, for a mixture of both personal and professional reasons, but the break – covering most of COVID time – did me good. I found that I am now better able to control when and where I engage on social media, and use it as a tool to share more about life, and to live my life, rather than live my life on them. It is useful to know what is going on in the virtual world, but I don’t have to live there permanently.

The Instagram stories I shared from Germany reflect that. One was of an alley bordered by huge trees in the green flush of late spring. Having been in Greece for so long, and in the cement lined streets of Athens in particular, I was overwhelmed by the abundance of green, so much so that I walked back to my hotel from a meeting in the north of the city, first alongside the Aussen-Alster, and then alongside the Binnenalster to drink in the air and the trees, the grass, amongst the healthy Hamburgers riding bicycles, jogging or simply enjoying the beautiful evening. I slept well that night.

The train ride to Copenhagen was very refreshing to. To be able to take a long train ride at all was a novelty, and as I was working I occasionally looked up to see the flat fields of Schleswig-Holstein roll past. My next Instagram story – shipping nerd as I am – was crossing over the Kiel Canal, empty of sea traffic, but impressive enough. One thing that was really striking was the difference in landscape between the German and Danish side of the border: Germany was full of wind turbines, so much so that there was never a moment when you could not see their rotor blades turning in the breeze. It was impressive but also oppressive and ugly: if this is what the green future looks like, then it is depressingly industrial. The Danish side of the border was beautifully free of these massive white scarecrows, which made the scenery so much more appealing.

Arriving in Copenhagen I arrived at my hotel around ten in the evening. I remembered I was out of practice travelling on business: I had assumed I would find a place to eat at that time. I live in Athens, and there is always somewhere open to eat, day or night. Copenhagen kitchens shut early by comparison, and Scandinavians eat early too. I had forgotten this completely, and on enquiring at the reception I was politely told that only fast-food places were open. I had chosen my hotel to be near the station, for convenience’s sake, but I soon remembered that the areas around the main stations of big cities are, let’s say, lively. I turned right out the hotel and found myself on a street populated by bars, strip clubs and indeed fast food emporia, none of which looked inviting or appealing. I followed my nose – it usually works – and eventually I found an excellent wine bar, Vinbaren Vesterbro Torv, and going in found that they would serve me a plate of Danish cheeses with my glass of Gigondas, all of which was excellent.

The next day I went to see my good friend Peter Grube at BIMCO, and spent a happy couple of hours gossiping over lunch before heading over to the first of the afternoon’s functions at Ultrabulk. The rest of the day was more or less a blur. After hooking up with my colleagues in chartering, we went from there to Norvic, and then XO, and then finally arrived at Norden. At all these functions I met old friends and acquaintances, and clients too, and had a very pleasant time catching up with them all and the joy of being together, drinking, eating, laughing and gossiping again.

At one point at Norden I took a breather, and stepped back up to a vantage point to have a cigarette and a look around, away from the fray. I saw before me a sea of mostly male and pale testosterone-driven blue suits, all exhibiting that mixture of companionship and aggression that is the mood music to shipping functions like these. Don’t get me wrong, not only am I male and pale, I am also a little stale too, and I probably play the game in the same way as everyone else. The women, making up about ten per cent of the crowd, were conspicuous because of their rarity. It just struck me that shipbroking is still a very male driven world, even – especially perhaps – in the more ‘enlightened’ cities of north-west Europe. And it bothers me.

I have never been comfortable with the ‘all boys together’ attitude, from an early age. Maybe having three sisters has something to do with it, maybe it’s also because I never played team sports, but probably it’s because I never learned the language and the manners. Mildly funny but thoroughly misogynistic comments made as part of ‘banter’ amongst the boys is infantile as well as being demeaning and insulting to those women professionals in earshot. Even out of earshot it shows, I think, a mixture of immaturity and a thorough lack of respect to our co-workers. I am sure the atmosphere would have been different if there had been more women there, if only to keep some of those boorish mouths shut. I mean no criticism of our generous and hospitable hosts who have no control over the behaviour of their guests, or the employment policies of their brokers, but I can only report what I experienced and felt.

Anyway, I poured myself into a taxi at the end of evening to be in bed early enough to get the 0830 flight back to Athens, so I could attend a couple of functions that evening. And if you think that it is only shipbroking that has a women problem, the first of those functions was hosted by the London Maritime Arbitrators Association, at the Yacht Club, in Piraeus. It was very interesting and informative as usual, the speakers engaging and insightful, and I learned a lot. The panel of six – I ?had already noticed – had one woman, an oversight I felt. There are many excellent women maritime lawyers in Greece, whether English, Greek, or otherwise, working in both P&I Clubs and legal practices, or shipping companies. During a later stage of the panel discussion, there was a discussion about the role of diversity amongst arbitrators. This was a work in progress, it was said, and only time can start balancing the numbers, but thankfully amongst the most recent Full Members, two were women. All this work was undone – for me at least – by referring to one of them as a “Lady Arbitrator”. Needless to say, I doubt that any of the male arbitrators would have been referred to as a “Gentleman Arbitrator”.

You may feel I am being politically correct and trying to ride the latest fashion. I fully admit that I am a man with testosterone of my own to deal with; I am not perfect, by any means, but nor do I, I hope, pretend to be otherwise. But the language that we use, even in jest, or offhand, reveals the problems that many women face in shipping and in life. It also reveals problems that men face in dealing with a changing world.

As can be seen from the above, travel does indeed broaden the mind. You meet people you wouldn’t normally come across in your normal working – or virtual – day, you are forced out of your comfort zone, to address things and think about things you wouldn’t normally think about. And for me at least, the experience of meeting people, known or previously unknown, loosens up the mind, indeed uses parts of it not normally pressed into action, and is overall an energising experience. Roll on Posidonia! says my brain. Not so fast! says my body.?

Simon Ward

www.ursashipbrokers.gr