Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

This week, one of my friends asked me to spend a chunk of time with an AI product that he’s vibe-coded and is thinking of turning into a business. I’ve seen some of the output and it doesn’t appeal to me at all, nor do I see how there is a market for what’s being sold. So I said no. I hate being the party pooper, but I so often find myself playing this role. I’m fascinated by how my non-technical friends are putting together websites, games and other artefacts with AI and would love to spend the time talking to them about that, but I’m yet to find many (or any?) of the products compelling so far.
I keep coming across websites, reports and slide decks that all look the same. Within half a second, you can tell that they were created with AI. I asked ChatGPT about this design aesthetic and it gave me this as an illustration, which is spot on:

They aren’t necessarily wrong or bad. But the tell-tale signs that they have been produced with AI mean that I struggle to engage with the content, even if there is value in it. The warning that LLMs will produce ‘average’ output, at least at the moment, seems to be correct.
Over the course of my career, especially in the early years, I spent hours perfecting PowerPoint slides for board meetings and other forums. When someone puts together a slide deck littered with formatting mistakes I find it off-putting, but I am motivated to see through the lack of attention to the design in order to engage with the content. When it’s AI generated, the formatting is generally perfect, but I wonder whether the person that created it has been through it all themselves.
Aside from wrestling with AI artefacts, this was a week in which I:

James Graham: We’ve sleepwalked into a massive crisis of the new. New has disappeared, plummeted from our cultural experiences. […] So, if we’re living on a diet of reheated culture, recycled culture, of bits of old culture spliced up and presented to us as new, what does that do to our politics?
The majority of Neets are not simply unemployed. They are economically “inactive”. No longer looking for work, they have, in effect, frozen into doing nothing then disappeared from institutional oversight. They’re not even bothering to game the benefits system. Milburn reported that in England alone in 2023-24, “around 314,000 18 to 24-year-olds were neither in work nor in education and are not themselves receiving benefits”.
My subjects in Rotherham often linked inactivity to phones. They described friends as “rotting”. These were people their age who had tried and failed to get jobs, then given up.
“What really struck me was how many had gradually lost confidence in themselves,” says Shuab Gamote, a policy adviser who has interviewed hundreds of Neets in the past two years. “In some cases [they] had almost slipped into a state of helplessness. We started calling this the rejection economy, where young people are constantly being told what they can’t do rather than what they can.”


Next week: Watching elections in the USA and South Africa, and a night out at the cinema indulging in George Michael.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
I downloaded a massive iPadOS 27.2 update today that seems to have fixed none of the issues that have been driving me potty for the past few weeks:
Is there nobody at Apple using a fairly recent iPad with a Magic Keyboard who also has access to the bug tracker?
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Updated my post on tools for discovering the IndieWeb to include Bubbles, which I’ve been enjoying a lot recently.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Twelve years ago, the team behind my beloved reading app Readmill announced that they were closing shop. It was the first time that I’d felt bereft at the loss of an Internet service. I wrote a post about the joy it had brought me, and my quest to find something that would fill the gap.
The Readmill platform and apps had a lot of class in their design, and it was lovely to use them for reading. They had an API that allowed developers to create apps such as ReadMore, which let you track reading sessions for physical books that would then get synchronised to Readmill. But the killer feature for me was the social component. I followed people on the platform, and through the website I could see their progress and comment on the highlights they made, and they could do the same for mine. Just as Strava is social media through the lens of exercise, Readmill was a social platform for reading books. There is a benefit to ‘reading out loud’ for the world to see. Making connections with other people through highlighted passages was my thing. Ultimately, what it did for me was to spur me into spending more time reading books. And I loved it.
Readmill shut down as they were unable to make it a viable, sustainable platform. Even if a significant proportion of its enthusiastic user base were happy to pay for the service, it wouldn’t have been enough. Dropbox acqui-hired the team and that was the end of it. I downloaded my beautiful Readmill archive — the team were classy until the end, making this available to each of their users — and uploaded it to my website. I mean, just look how lovely these pages are:

After looking at alternatives, I finally settled on using Goodreads to track my books. Because Goodreads is owned by Amazon, starting to read a book on my Kindle meant that it would be automatically marked as ‘currently reading’ on the platform, and getting to the end of the book would prompt me for a rating and review before putting it on the virtual ‘read’ pile. You can add Kindle highlights to Goodreads, but the whole app is a clunky affair, devoid of fun and grace.
At some point I stumbled across the original Readwise app, now called Readwise Highlights. This is a place to collect all of the snippets from the books, articles and other things that I read. The highlights are in a private silo, but there are options to share individual entries in plain text or with fancy graphics, many of which I’ve used in my blog posts.
One good thing to come out of Readmill’s demise is that I decided to create my own book-tracking page on my blog, so that details of what I’ve read aren’t just buried away in someone else’s website.
All of this works just…fine. But it’s missing the fun. In truth, I’d found the social aspects were the things that drove me to pick up a book on my phone instead of opening other apps. My reading habit trailed off after Readmill vanished.
And then this week, out of the blue, Readwise co-founder Daniel Doyon sent me an email that made me sit up and pay attention. Readwise have launched a new reading platform called Readwise Books, which might just be the seed of something that will gradually fill the Readmill-shaped hole that I’ve been living with these past dozen years.
Their blog post on the launch is an excellent read. I devoured it on my commute home. It explains how Readwise Books is step three of their “master plan” to “improve the practice of reading through software by an order of magnitude”. And I think they are onto something. As I read the post, I was delighted (but not surprised) by how much thought, effort and genius they’ve put into the product.
They’ve smushed together an e-reading app with Goodreads functionality to create “The Strava of reading”. This is exactly what Readmill was for me. As you use the e-reader, it tracks not only the duration of the reading session, but also the type of reading that you are doing — quick skimming, or a more immersed or active session — a concept similar to training zones in Strava. Their theory, backed by links to evidence, is that just as fitness tracking has taken off in recent years for physical health, so tracking good-quality reading will take off for mental health and longevity. There’s a light social network attached where you can follow people and see what they are reading, which you don’t need to participate in if you don’t want to. From their blog post:
Reading simply hasn’t had its wellness moment yet, but we’re betting it’s close. When it comes, we’re optimistic the secular downtrend in the time adults dedicate to books will reverse. Not because “smartphone bad,” but because the wellness movement has proven, at scale, that ordinary people will do hard things like lifting heavy objects, sitting in ice water, and going to bed on time, as long as the behavior comes with a bit of science, a number to track, and other people doing it alongside them.
As a Readwise subscriber, I’ve got early access to the app, which is invite-only for now. I immediately downloaded it. Once I fired it up, it imported my data from Goodreads and Kindle, populating my shelves and my book library. The onboarding process was a delight, and it gave me something to start with. The app is dripping with quality and is a fun to navigate around.

If I was based in the US, I would be able to purchase ebooks through the app. Incredibly, the Readwise team have managed to get deals in place with all five of the biggest publishers to allow them to have their own ebook store. In their words from the announcement post:
Fortunately, we’re happy to share that after several years of effort, we’ve now overcome the upfront barriers to entry. We have distribution deals with all of the Big 5 publishers, we’ve stood up the bookshop, and, as we’ll get into soon, we’ve built a compelling product. Many challenges still lie ahead, but we’ve done all of this as a sustainable business that can survive in a small market rather than relying on the promise of capturing x% of the market to raise the next round of funding.
This means, as far as we know, Readwise is the only truly independent, digital-first challenger to credibly enter the ebook market, ever.
But — and I think they are underplaying this — not being able to use the ebook store doesn’t mean you can’t use their platform. In Readwise Books, when I tapped the Kindle book that I am currently reading, it opened the Kindle Cloud Reader within the app, allowing me to read it and track it as if I had bought it from the Readwise store. This is an amazing idea, and smashes down the barrier of needing to wait until their ebook store is available here in the UK. The Kindle book is only presented in a scrolling format, rather than one where you can turn from one page to the next, but I am hoping that this might appear in a future release.
The social highlights feature that I loved so much in Readmill isn’t part of the platform, but maybe they will find a way to add this feature in time. If they ever do, I am sure they will do it in a beautiful, thoughtful way. It’s exciting.
As an early user, I have a small number of invite codes to give away. If reading on your phone, iPad or Android tablet is your thing, and this platform sounds as good to you as it does to me, please let me know if you would like an invite.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
My wife brought me back edible gifts from Texas. These are incredible.

Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

As this is a milestone weeknote, I’m going to try and change these a little. For a long time I’ve been following the same pattern, which, while useful as a structure, feels like it has become stale in parts. If those parts aren’t fun to write, they can’t be that fun or useful to read. It’s time for something a tiny bit different. I’m planning to leave out the things that are either routine or don’t matter as much. This might be a one-off; let’s see how it goes.
This week was hard. I’d known for many months that my boss was retiring, but the first week without him brought the reality home. Across my week, there were a few tricky meetings and conversations within the team, which on more than one occasion led me to bring up Alfred Adler’s quote that “all problems are interpersonal relationship problems”. I spent some time reflecting on how I’ve been feeling and the reasons behind it, and thinking about how I want the people working for me to feel.
At the weekend I fired up ChatGPT and Claude to help me work on my ‘personal brand’ — a horrible phrase, but I’m not sure what else to call it. After much back and forth, I ended up with “A technology leader who turns big ambitions into work people understand and can deliver”, which I am quite pleased with. This has definitely been where I’ve been operating over the past few years, getting my arms around big initiatives and giving people the space to get their parts done. I like that it includes a nod to strategy as well as simplifying things that are complex for people, both of which I enjoy. I also added some commentary to my LinkedIn work history. Both of these things were long overdue.
At work we had an internal Technology conference which I joined online, starting at 7:30am on a Monday. It was well worth it; the speakers were much better than I’ve seen at many events.1
On Tuesday night I got back from London, quickly got changed and then drove to Watford A&E, where my father-in-law had taken himself in a taxi and was waiting to be seen. I think I’m quite good at tolerating sitting in a waiting room, observing the cast of weird and wonderful characters around me. When we eventually got to see the medical team they were brilliant. We didn’t get back until around midnight, heading to bed without dinner, but I was grateful in that it could have been worse. I took my father-in-law for a follow-up appointment on Friday morning, which left the end of the week feeling bitty.
My brother-in-law visited his parents over the weekend and came to stay on Saturday night. We went out for dinner at Per Tutti in Berkhamsted and it was great to catch up.
On Thursday, my wife and youngest son headed off to San Antonio, Texas, to go and visit our eldest boy in Kingsville. It was so good to see photos of them all together when they finally arrived. I miss that eldest son of ours, but I’m so happy that he’s getting on and doing what he wants to do in life.
In the office, we had a very quick refresher on how to use an automated external defibrillator. I’ve been first aiding for 25 years and it is incredible how much the technology has advanced in that time. The demonstration machine is of a type that gives feedback on the rate at which someone is administering chest compressions. Amazing.
I found myself wrestling with articulating a problem about how to break down a piece of work to maximise the effectiveness of Microsoft Copilot. I had quite a few baffled looks as I explained what was in my mind. I’m going to have to write it down to try and express it more clearly.
I had a solo night out at The Grace in Highbury to see Erin Rae. She was delightful. I discovered her through her live cover of Gene Clark’s Some Misunderstanding; she tried playing it on request as part of her encore but I don’t think she’d played it for a while and she was a little rusty. Support came from Henry Grace (no relation), who seemed overwhelmed to have been asked — that day — to take part in the evening’s events.


The working week closed out with a great, impromptu conversation with one of my colleagues in Johannesburg, covering a lot of bases but mainly focused on AI, the level of technical knowledge and literacy that we have, and the future of work. After our call I had to scribble down as much as I could remember in order to get my thoughts straight.
The weather here has turned cold where there are no clouds overnight. In my tired state, with a forecast of sprinkles of rain at the end of the ride, I decided to go on my bike trainer instead of venturing out on Saturday morning. I think I would have avoided the rain, but it would have been wet and muddy anyway. I needed an extra hour or two in bed more than I needed to get outside. On Sunday it was windy but bright; I did one of those very pleasing runs where you don’t try and push very hard and then find that you’ve got a PB or two along the way.
Frances Haugen: I want to take some personal responsibility. When I worked at Pinterest … originally you only got content from people you explicitly chose. So you heard from humans because you chose those humans. I think it was largely chronological. People didn’t want to do the labor of finding 50 accounts to follow (because you needed about 50 in order to have a good feed). So, they introduced topics which kind of aggregated people together being like, “Oh, you said you like food. We think these accounts have a lot of food in them. We’ll basically ghost follow you onto their account because you follow food.” And then about maybe six months or a year before I joined Pinterest, they moved to pure recommendations. And I joined during a time period where they were dealing with the fallout of moving away from being anchored on people you chose. So the challenge is when you go from being in an environment where humans are mediating how you interact with the world, to one where a computer is choosing how you interact with the world. In our case, our problem was it fostered a lot of monotony. Right? So the thing you are most likely to reshare is a thing identical to the last thing you reshared. So think of it this way: you’re shopping for daisy pillows. You add one to a board. Statistically speaking the next thing you will add to the board is a photo that looks as similar to this one as possible. And people were coming up to me in networking events and saying “when did Pinterest get so boring”, right? Because like it went from being eclectic and like exposed to all these things to being boring. And the challenge was that you know the world of content that comes from people you opt into is small. The world of content that you have not opted into is infinite. And the thing that TikTok really showed was that when you have the ability to show people anything from any window of time, you know, when the only thing that matters is how much time they can suck you in, you know, they don’t have any other user promise. They’re like “We’re not promising this is from your friends. We’re not promising this is from yesterday. We’re just promising you’re going to have a good time.” You can in fact give them lots of dopamine and the perception of a good time. The question is, what do we trade off for that? Because as soon as we move away from having our time controlled by people to having our time controlled by computers, it comes back to the situation from The Social Reckoning, right? People ended up in those extremist groups because an algorithm said, “Hey, we’ve noticed that people who have some of your interests, they get very involved with these groups.” And, unfortunately, you really, really need to make sure that whatever your definitions of success are also taking into account the biases that might be less positive because otherwise the AI will just find the shortest path to getting you to what the stated goal is no matter what the consequences are.
Next week: Welcoming back my wife and our youngest son from their travels.

Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

My boss retired on Friday. In one form or another, I’ve been working for him for most of the past 16 years. Looking back, deciding to move to this company and having the good fortune to meet and work for him feels like one of those extremely improbable events. As Ronnie Barker said when looking back over his career, “What luck.” His planned retirement, something that we’ve known about for over half a year, is one of those bittersweet moments where you are happy for your friend in that they are going off to do their next thing, sad for yourself as you won’t get to see and work with them every day, and excited for what opportunities might open up as a result of the change.
My first stint of working for him started in 2010. I’d just left UBS, a company that I had joined as a graduate and that had given me so many opportunities, but had become a toxic place to work as a result of the fallout from the 2008 financial crisis. During my first week in my new job, he made a big impression on me, and we quickly bonded over conversations about personal productivity methods and tools. For five years we worked closely together and enjoyed a lot of success. This partnership came to an end when the company was broken up into two pieces — he ended up on one side of the deal as the sole technology staff member working for a new entity, and I ended up on the other side, in the bigger company that was left behind.
We continued to work in the same building and kept in contact. As 2017 rolled around, he started to talk to me about a contract role in his nascent team, one that would involve coming up with a plan to build an entirely new IT infrastructure stack. At this point I was a very experienced manager of projects, programmes and project management offices, but my experience was mainly in software. What the heck did I know about IT infrastructure? After I voiced this question, he said something like “Don’t worry. We’ll have fun doing it, even if we screw it up.” Resigning from my job and coming to work for him for a second time was an even better decision than the first. We worked so hard, had so much fun, and delivered the most impactful project that I’ve ever been involved in. When the COVID-19 pandemic turned up, our staff could just pick up their laptops and start working from home immediately thanks to the work that we did. Since then, I’ve gone on to run an office refurbishment in London and a move to a brand-new office in New York, neither of which I had any experience in beforehand. I felt trusted and supported every step of the way.
He’s been an inspirational leader, coach, mentor and friend over all the years we have worked together. I’m going to miss him.
This was a week in which I:




Next week: Waiting to hear about what comes next, and going to see Erin Rae.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

After getting home from Cairo on Thursday night, I had just two nights at home before heading back to Heathrow on Saturday afternoon for a trip to Johannesburg. The last time I was there was at the end of June in the middle of winter; October is a much better time to visit, with the jacaranda trees blooming and the temperatures climbing up into the high 20s.
On the way down, the pilot of our plane announced that it was the 30th anniversary of Virgin Atlantic’s Johannesburg service. I’ve been on dozens of business trips down to South Africa with Virgin Atlantic over the past 15 years or so, which makes me feel like a veteran of the route.
The ‘traveller’s tummy’ that I developed last week was still with me. It was strange; I felt fine in every other way, and had managed to go out for a very fast bike ride (for me at least) with the cycling club on Saturday morning. But things were not good. Without going into too much detail, on Sunday night they took an extreme turn for the worse. Instead of seeking urgent medical attention as advised by my AI assistant, I waited until the morning to see if things improved. They did, a little, but I wasn’t out of the woods.
When I got into the office, to my surprise, I found that a few desks away from where our team sit, we have an internal ‘Wellness Centre’ that is staffed by a clinician and a nurse. I was so thankful to be at our head office, where the number of people working in the building justifies having this type of facility. They saw me straight away, and based on my symptoms they advised me to find a local doctor. Nobody in our team lived locally so I couldn’t get a GP recommendation from anyone. I went off to search for someone who might see me, with some help from ChatGPT. I made an afternoon appointment with a GP based a couple of blocks away.
If my experience is anything to go by, private medical care in South Africa is amazing. The GP was brilliant, taking her time to examine me, listen to me describe my symptoms and suggest a course of action. She was caring and didn’t rush. For this service I was charged the equivalent of £34. The doctor suggested having a sample taken and sent off to a pathology lab, which cost an extra £28. I wasn’t fixed, but I felt relieved that someone had taken a look at me and made an assessment.
I got the lab results back the next day via an email from the doctor, less than 24 hours after my visit. Given my symptoms, it felt disappointing that they found nothing at all. She recommended I take a short course of antibiotics and sent me a prescription over email. There was no shortage of pharmacies in the area I was staying in, so I headed to one of them after work to pick up the pills. The prescription cost me less than £5, which is cheaper than the £9.90 I would pay for an NHS prescription in England. Interestingly, the dispensing chemist wraps up the pot and hands it over to you in a locked cage, which is then unlocked by the cashier when you go over to pay. I’m happy to report that the combination of these pills, chewable probiotics and plenty of water had me back to normal by the time I left the country at the end of the week.

It was my boss’s final trip to head office before he retires. We’ve worked together for most of the past 17 years and it was a privilege to be there at the same time as him. We caught up with lots of colleagues and friends, some of whom I haven’t spent time with in years. Late on Wednesday afternoon, the company put on a big event to celebrate him as well as to recognise and mark other changes in senior leadership within our Technology function.
At dinner with colleagues that I worked with some 15 years ago, we talked about how we might keep in touch, and how groups of like-minded people do this in general. The very best example of a valuable community that I’m in is the WB-40 Podcast Signal group. Most of the people there contribute something to the chat on a regular basis. We’ve built friendships through humour and sharing things about our lives, and then when someone has a serious business or personal question, the community jump in to help. Is there something special about this set of people that means that building a similar community isn’t easy to do with another group?
As we boarded the plane to go home on Friday evening, I found the Flight Service Manager and told her that my boss, sitting on the other side of the cabin from me, is retiring, and this would be his last business flight from South Africa, having made the same journey probably a hundred times over the years. She suggested giving him a nice embarrassing announcement over the tannoy, which she duly did once we were up in the air. The whole plane clapped and cheered. A little while later, my boss was confused when someone came up to him in his seat and pointed at him, asking, “Is it you?” “Is it me what?” “Is it you that’s retiring?” It turned out his noise-cancelling AirPods had worked a little too well and that he’d missed the entire thing, including the enthusiastic cheering and applause. It took a while for him to work out how the cabin crew knew.



This was a week in which I:



Next week: A one-day conference, a retirement bash, and three nights out on the trot.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

These weeknotes are over a week late. It’s been a busy time.
After finishing up with work on Friday evening, I leapt straight for the ironing board to get a new set of work shirts ready for the following week. On Saturday morning, just after 6am, a taxi picked me up to take me to Heathrow for a flight to Cairo. In Egypt, the working week is Sunday to Thursday, which meant that I had a one-day weekend, which I spent travelling.
Fortunately, the Wi-Fi was working on the plane and was good enough for streaming, so after paying £11.99 I managed to tune in to the whole of the Formula 1 race in Baku, which this year was helpfully being held on a Saturday.
Egypt is the third country I’ve visited in Africa, after countless trips to South Africa and a family holiday in Mauritius. I’d heard stories from friends and colleagues who had visited Cairo before, but I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. As you descend into the city and peer out of the aeroplane window, it looks ominously vast, with endless buildings that are all the colour of the desert that surrounds them.
The journey through the airport was unlike that of any other place I’ve visited. With help from a local colleague, I’d arranged for the ‘Meet and Assist’ service, which meant that after I stepped off the plane and walked down the stairs from the corridor, someone was standing there with my name on a piece of paper. He greeted me, took my passport and landing card, escorted me through the fast lane at immigration and then walked with me to the baggage carousel. After getting my bag he took me through customs and then made sure I got to the hotel shuttle bus. I’m a fairly confident traveller, but it took all of the remaining stress out of the process.
The reason for my trip was to visit the new office that our team have been fitting out and equipping over the past few months. There is no substitute for having visited a place to understand it. You leave there with a mental map of where everything is, what the specific quirks are, and an understanding of what the social dynamics are between the people that work there. Every one of our offices has elements that are very specific to that location, and Cairo is no exception.
I have a distinct memory of a type-in game in a 1980s computer book that I read as a child, where the authors wrote about how crazy it is to be a Cairo taxi driver. Forty years later, I now understand what they meant. It’s completely mad. Vehicles of all kinds travel at different speeds down what would be six-lane highways if the lines were still visible. It’s a free-for-all. At one point during my trip we were heading down a wide one-way street at some speed when I did a double-take at a car passing us in the opposite direction. Uber cars are of questionable pedigree, and the app lets you order a motorcycle ride where presumably you can cling on with your arms wrapped around a driver, without a helmet. I didn’t try it.
Security in the city is very visible, but often theatrical. Reception areas in office buildings have full-body metal detectors that serve no purpose other than to act as an obstacle to walk around. At the hotel, your vehicle is greeted with a sniffer dog and a guard that inspects the boot. As you enter the hotel, your bags have to go through an X-ray machine while you pass through a scanner, but nobody checks your pockets when the alarm goes off.
It was so lovely to spend time with some of our local team in person, as well as colleagues from the myriad of vendors we have been working with. There’s still lots of work to do over the coming months, but we’re in good shape.
The hours were long. On most evenings I found myself being the last person in the office. ChatGPT came to my rescue when I realised that I had to use an unintuitive panel to turn off the air conditioning. Uploading a photo of the panel and asking how to turn it off gave me instructions for exactly what buttons to press.
The hotel had a selection of restaurants, including one with the largest menu of Asian food that I have ever seen, with dishes from China, Vietnam, Japan, Korea and more besides. On my first night I ate at the Turkish restaurant and watched as no fewer than four tables of diners had a fuss made of them by the staff as they each celebrated a birthday. It was clearly the place to go for a special occasion. The food was great. At the start of the trip I was travelling on my own, and I enjoyed sitting there with my book, taking my time with my food as I read.

I wanted to know more about where I was and the people that lived there. I pulled up a book from my archives called When Cultures Collide by Richard D. Lewis and started reading about the Arab world. I learned that what binds it together more than anything is a shared language, and dug into the significant differences between Arabic-speaking countries. Cairo itself is the largest city by population in Africa with over 23 million inhabitants. It is effectively an island, surrounded by the Mediterranean to the north and desert in all other directions. Egyptians have a proud history of learning and education, and a colleague told me that when he was growing up in the UAE, there were many Egyptian teachers in the schools there. I got the impression that some Egyptians identify much more strongly with the Arab world than with Africa as a whole. Running a multinational business across sub-Saharan Africa is as much of a challenge for Egyptians as it is for people in Europe. In my experience, business culture in South Africa is similar in that it also sees itself as something slightly apart from the rest of the continent, aligning itself more with European and American news and culture, but this seemed to be much more pronounced in Egypt.
I talked with an Egyptian colleague about some of the things I had read in the book and she laughed at me, saying “That must be a very old book.” The stereotypes and generalisations seemed antiquated to her. Egypt is a country that is building and modernising, and you can feel it.

On the third day of my stay, I fell ill with ‘traveller’s tummy’. I hadn’t thought twice about brushing my teeth with water from the tap, or having ice in my drinks in the hotel restaurant at night, and was kicking myself when I realised. I knew something wasn’t quite right when I got up and went to the hotel gym but found that I was off my game. It turned into a mild fever, and that brought an end to enjoying any of the local food. I barely ate that day, and tentatively tucked into small morsels of the plainest food I could find for the rest of the trip. The fever went after a good night’s sleep, but the ‘other aspects’ didn’t, and I was still suffering with the same issues into the following weekend. It might be the first business trip where I’ve actually lost some weight.

In the middle of the week I was joined by a colleague from London whose mission was to advance specific aspects of our technical setup. He is a wizard, and it was fascinating and satisfying to watch him work. On Friday, when we were both back home, we each sent out an email to our team, his with a technical description of the current state of our setup and mine with more general observations and notes about the physical space that we need to follow up on. We all need to adjust to the realities and challenges of how work gets done in the city. Being there was invaluable in developing an understanding.
When it was time to go home, I had the pleasure of the ‘Meet and Assist’ service once again. This time, a chaperone met me at the entrance to the airport. He took me through the first security barrier, where I didn’t need to take anything out of my pockets but had a physical scan and pat-down. He then took me to the check-in desk, picking up a departure card which he filled in by hand with details from my passport as we walked to immigration. After taking me through the fast lane again, he shook my hand and said goodbye as I headed for the second security check. I sauntered up to security and got into the shortest queue, only to find a guard shouting at me in Arabic as he passed. Helpfully, a traveller in the next line told me that I was in a female-only queue and that I had to join one for the men. I hadn’t realised that they were segregated by sex.
A five-hour flight is pretty great. Short enough that you can cover it in a day without any significant jet lag, but long enough to be able to get some things done.
Despite Cairo leaving me with a gift that keeps on giving, I’m already looking forward to going back again.
Next week: Another business trip.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts

A hectic week that, looking back, felt much longer than it was. Autumn is coming, making itself felt on Monday on my walk down to the train station; I kept swapping the hand I was using to carry a bag, burying the other one in a trouser pocket to keep warm.
This was a week in which I:


The updated Copilot app also is getting a feature called “Office in Copilot,” which will provide customers with “the full power” of Word, Excel and PowerPoint inside Copilot. Microsoft officials said Office in Copilot is not just a viewer; it’s a way for customers to interact with those main Office apps right inside Copilot.
Just to be (un)clear: Office in Copilot is not the same as Copilot in Office – which is a set of capabilities which have been available to certain Microsoft 365 customers for a while. Copilot in Office allows users to invoke AI from inside their apps rather than providing access to the Office apps from within an AI assistant, which is what Office in Copilot is meant to do. Those using Office in Copilot will be able to collaborate in real time with people using the full versions of the existing Outlook apps, officials said.

Next week: Visiting a country in Africa that I’ve not been to before, taking my tally to three.
Thank you for using RSS, you are fabulous. ❤️
✉️ Email me about this
💬 Comment on this post
⬅️ Visit all posts