Search Results for: Tim elkington

With Volans closed this week, for rest and recuperation, Elaine and I trundled across to the Royal Academy’s Summer Show. Without question, the most disappointing Summer Show I have yet seen, sadly.

But I did buy what looks to be a fascinating book in the RA shop, Reinier de Graaf’s architect, verb. Hope to read it on the island of Bornholm, Denmark, next week. And we then had a delightful time in Hatchard’s, buying books like The Man Who Was Thursday, by G.K. Chesteron (#495 out of a special edition of 2,000) and Mercury Pictures Presents by Andrew Marra.

(We ducked into Fortnum’s, too, to get a tin of the wonderful Smoky Earl Grey tea we had loved while with Pavan Sukhdev last week.)

Having just finished Ben Goldsmith’s profoundly moving God Is An Octopus, where I was in tears at various points in the book, it has been a particular joy to start Marra’s book. I haven’t laughed so much while reading since galloping through Joseph Heller’s Catch 22 in the school dormitory at Forrester House, Bryanston, back in the early Sixties.

The other book I have been browsing this week is the vast 2-volume Taschen edition of the works of Norman Foster. I adore great architecture: wonderfully inspirational. Foster has long been one of my heroes – and was himself profoundly influenced by another, Bucky Fuller, who I had the privilege to meet in Reykjavik back in 1977.

What a week we had of it, arriving back last night. Elaine and I had flown from Heathrow’s T5 to Geneva on 26th July, to stay several days with Pavan Sukhdev. Have known him since the launch of his The Economics of Ecosystems & Bioversity (TEEB) reports back in 2010. Always liked him immensely, but didn’t know him that well – despite being a member of the Advisory Board of his impact intelligence platform, GIST Impact. All that changed this week.

When I told him I that I had a small stroke (TIA) in one eye, he basically instructed me to drop everything and head off to his a home in Nyon, overlooking Lake Geneva and Mont Blanc. Irresistible, particularly since Elaine has always loved Switzerland to distraction.

Given that one of my key projects at the moment is the first Volans impact report, after ten years as a B Corporation, a status that means we should have been producing an annual impact report, I was thrilled by the chance to explore Pavan’s evolving thinking on the subject. As we sampled his library of single malt whiskies, we explored the horizons of impact – and I found myself getting much clearer on how we can do justice to the challenge. More on that anon.

One thing we found we shared is a sense that serendipity is a critical element of our respective minutes and business models. My thinking on the subject had taken a step forward a couple of years ago when I interviewed Dr Christian Busch, author of The Serendipity Mindset, for our Green Swans Observatory. And this short visit constantly underscored the key role serendipity can play in our lives.

One evening while we were walking back through the old town of Nyon, I noted that the time was perfect for bats – then we walked into a towering square where the evening air was thick with them. Joy! We saw various forms of wildlife, including chamois, hummingbird hawk moths and, one evening, perhaps ten brown rats scurrying between wooden decks on which a local café and gardens stood. Enjoyed them all in equal measure, although – for me, at least – the bats topped the bill.

Then a passing woman asked if I was John Elkington? Sometimes, I replied. Turned out that she was Simone Awramenko, now a sustainability expert at Credit Suisse, who knew me of old.

Even more striking was the moment when Paul Rose, probably my favourite explorer, who I had met at Anthropy last year through David Williams of Impact International, liked one of my tweets. When I responded, noting that I was in Nyon, having no idea where he lived, he shot back that he lived 40 minutes up the hill from Nyon. All of which led to one of the most delightful days of my life, when Pavan took Elaine and I up by train to Saint-Cergue to see Paul and his wife Jöelle. But more of that in a moment, after a brief photo intermission.

And then up into the mountains we went. As the train pulled into Saint-Cergue, I was watching out for deer, and spotted what I initially took to be an ibex, but which proved to be a chamois, hard by the track. Paul and Jöelle collected us á pied at the station and took us on a 3-hour walk across the peaks, then back to their wonderful home, passing another (or perhaps the same) chamois as we arrived back at Rose roost. A real sense of homecoming.

Although Pavan and Paul had met on a conference panel some time back, they didn’t know each other – so a wonderful moment of cross-pollination. Love Paul’s Pristine Seas project with the National Geographic Society. And then, as the black-and-white image of Pavan’s whisky bar illustrated at the opening of this post, Paul and Jöelle visited us a day or two later in Nyon – ahead of a joint raid on the local flea market, or Marché aux Puces on the Nyon waterfront. But first, a trio of images from our lunch afloat between Nyon and Lausanne on our penultimate day.

Part-way through the trip, I told Elaine that I felt I had been away for weeks, or even months. A elasticisation of time I often experience when doing different things – or doing things differently. And then, finally, the visit on our last day to the Marché aux Puces, followed by a delightful lunch in sun nearby.

By way of a coda, but as another example of how odd connections so often happen, on the flight back, in economy, I found myself having a fascinating conversation with an elaborately dressed 88-year old. We continued the conversation with him and his wife as we waited for our bags to appear on the carousel at T5. Turned out that this is who he was, is.

Then out into the rain of London, with the taxi driver noting our Nyon weather had been dramatically nicer than London’s. But at least everything looked lusciously green.

After two years without a car, because of London’s ULEZ scheme, of which we wholeheartedly approve, we found our horizons being slightly cramped. So, as mentioned in a prior post, we subscribed to a Tesla Model Y for four years via a salary sacrifice scheme set up by Volans. Teslanomics – making the whole thing much more affordable.

Just a quick note on one of the many adventures I failed to post on this year, for a variety of reasons – but the most important being that my blog was out of action for well over a month. In any event, today (though this is actually posted on 13 August), I scooted across to the House of Hackney to do a fireside chat session.

Because of a shortage of time, I went by taxi. First taxi driver misunderstood and dropped me somewhere with a similar name, but some way away. Second got it right. Still arrived early and had time to take a look around inside this fascinating business, also a B Corp.

Because of a diary confusion, I had to scoot out of our session slightly before the end to do a virtual fireside chat in Toronto, supporting the candidature of Chloe Brown for city mayor. (In the end, she lost in the election.) Was attracted by her intelligence and wider ambition – and by the fact that Rob Wolloch and her team were building their campaign for office around the triple bottom line.

Across to Madrid to speak at the South Summit, my first time there. Fascinating reception on the first evening with AI innovators, entrepreneurs and investors at the Palacio de Liria, the traditional home of the Dukes of Alba. Andrew Winston and I listened in growing incredulity as speaker after speaker demonstrated a limited grasp (to put it mildly) of the turbulence the AI sector will face as it encounters wider stakeholder resistance.

For me, though, the high point of the trip was being bussed with some 25 other participants to meet King Felipe VI at his palace outside the city. I have met a fair few royals over the years, but he was head and shoulders above most of them. He greeted each of us in with a handshake; then we sat in a circle for what was meant to be a one hour session, but lasted for several. He answered every question individually, generally with a 4-5 minute reply, and demonstrated deep understanding of a wide range of topics.

By the end, I thought we were using him a but like a human version of ChatGPT. I didn’t ask a question, because I was distracted by fierce itching in my hands, brought on (it would transpire) by the drugs I have been taking recently to ward off the risk of another mini-stroke, or TIA. But then one of my itching hands was shaken again on our way out. I told him it had been a masterclass, and it had.