Rabat-Paris-Cardiff – as unlikely a combination as you will find on any traveller’s itinerary – but hey, that’s what travel is about these days, the ability to mix and match according to desires and circumstances.

Rabat (left) wasn’t the easiest place to get into. I won’t bore you with the visa hurdles I faced and I wouldn’t have made it without a few connections.

A special message had to be sent to Air France in Charles de Gaulle to allow me to board and when I arrived in Rabat, a security officer was waiting to help me with my visa on arrival. I can now say Rabat’s the second place in the world where I’ve got a “Secret Service” visa.

I suppose like Myanmar, they’re a bit edgy over there because of the “Arab Spring” and the day I arrived, there were demonstrations in the city but they were largely peaceful. “We Moroccans, we are peaceful people,” said a local staff at the Hotel Sofitel Rabat Jardin des Roses.

Half a world away, back in my home country, meanwhile, the police were tear-gassing people who had gathered for the Bersih rally, calling for fair and peaceful elections in Malaysia. Could the Arab Spring become an ASEAN Spring?

Back in Rabat, the sun was out, the sky was blue and a lovely sea breeze was rustling through the date palms. Located on the Atlantic Ocean, the capital city of Morocco enjoys pretty good weather year-round.

I was there as a guest speaker at the Accor Summer Academy, an annual gathering of its senior management around the world, where the year’s directions are laid out and different teams share what they’ve been up to and what they intend to do to grow market lead.

This event piqued my curiosity at several levels. One as a travel industry observer – to get a look inside one of the world’s largest hospitality companies and better understand the issues. Two as an entrepreneur – to be reminded of what huge companies look like and how they operate. I am truly envious of their resources, not so of processes which often make big companies slow to change in a fast-moving world. Yet it is these processes that make most of them solid, successful and sustainable.

And three as an event organizer – to see how a company puts on an event to motivate, inspire and hold the attention of more than 100 of its senior executives most of whom have pretty much been there, heard it and seen it all. 

I have to say, I love the staging and production value that went into the conference. I particularly enjoyed the different presentations from the regions with each bringing their unique cultural flavour to their 10-minute slots. It reminded me of why I am in this industry, the global flavours of it. It also proves to me that in a conference, it’s not about how much time you have, it’s what you say and how you say it that matters. Short, sharp and sweet does it for me and I suspect everyone these days in an age of attention compression.

Watching the camaderie among colleagues during social events, I felt for a moment lonely in my existence as a solo warrior. It must be nice to have colleagues to share and bitch with.

Rabat is not a tourist city. This I was told by locals when I asked them what I should see during my few hours off. “We are a business city, not like Marrakech,” they say. There’s the local market at the old town of Medina and if you’ve been to the souks in Marrakech, then this market is pretty slim pickings.

The Sofitel Rabat was the former Hilton, which it was for a couple of decades. It’s a huge, palatial-feeling kind of resort and the hotel, obviously proud to play host to its most important executives, put on a fine display. (Picture shows a chef preparing food during one of the lunches – I tasted camel for the first time)

Paris too was on fine display the three days I was there. I stayed at the Pullman Tour Eiffel, not the prettiest of hotels – it being the former Paris Hilton (again) which has seen better days – but it certainly has wonderful views of the Eiffel Tower which I said good morning and goodnight to every day.

In Asia, we are spoilt because most of our hotels are pretty new and I had forgotten what a hotel of the 60s look like – but then, I’ve always thought of Paris as a museum and it was right I should be staying in a hotel that felt like one.

What it lacks in physical beauty it makes up for in friendly service – the staff were helpful and charming, always. I am told Accor will put in several million Euros to refurbish the hotel – and so it must to bring it up to the Pullman standards we know in Asia.

During my stay, the hotel was hosting Meeting Areva, a world track and field meet, and I ran into some of the biggest and tallest people I’ve ever seen in my life. The fastest too. Usain Bolt was in the building, I was told, and he did win the 200m with a time of 20s03. Have to say not sure I’d know him if I was standing next to him in the lift but there were plenty of autograph hunters who would.

At this time of the year, the whole of Paris is on sale and I cannot tell you the number of times I was told that by Parisians who are as excited about the sale as visitors. I am told women go to the stores pre-sale to pick up the items they want and during the first days of the sale, they take time off work to grab those items. Men too are as excited. When I asked my French gentleman friend what his biggest extravagance was, he said, “Clothes.”

“The best things have gone,” I was told when I said I didn’t see much I wanted to buy. Besides, I am now approaching shopping with a new mindset having heard in a financial workshop that before you buy anything, you should ask three questions – do you need it, can you afford it, is it worth it? Thus, the only thing I really needed, could afford and thought worth it was a fresh, steaming croissant in the morning with a cafe au lait in a nearby cafe. 

From Paris, I flew Flybe to Cardiff (below). The flight was full of American golfers going on to Glasgow for a golfing tournament and it made me realise how big sports tourism is. 

Compared to Charles de Gaulle airport, Cardiff Airport is a dream. Small. When my Parisian friends asked me where I’d be spending the weekend, and I told them, they were surprised. “That’s unusual,” one said. “A weekend in Cardiff?”

I like unusual places. I’ve been to Cardiff, I guess, more than 20 times and I’ve grown to love it. I love the way Cardiff Castle stands proud in the city centre. I love the Museum, which can hold its own to any of the top museums in Europe. I like the smallness of the city centre, where you can move around easily. I love the lilting Welsh accents you hear. It’s also a very cosmopolitan place, and you get to see all kinds of folks from all corners of the world. In the city square, I stopped and listened to two Red Indians playing their music which evoked the feeling of the rainforests.

I dined at Jamie’s Italian (left) which I was impressed with – the seasonality of the ingredients (I had pasta with cockles and leeks) and the big flavours you associate with Jamie Oliver’s cooking are found in his restaurant.

I went to Cardiff Bay on a Saturday night which was a mistake – too many people who’ve had too much to drink talking much too loud.

I beat a hasty retreat back to home turf where I had the best home-cooked meals, read the newspapers, watched telly and unplugged myself from the world outside for the weekend.

Now that you need, you can’t afford not to do it and it’s definitely worth it.

Featured image credit (Woman carries your luggage at the airport terminal): Ockra/iStock