‘So what are you doing here?’ asked a familiar voice. I turned round. It was Dan, founder and semi-retired chairman of an international IR firm.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘Either I’m taking advantage of the Thais’ economic misfortune or bringing in much needed foreign currency.’
We were in the lobby of the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, somewhere I hadn’t been able to afford for some time. But now, with the collapse of the baht, it seemed irresistible. A couple of days of being pampered was almost within my means.
‘Let’s have a drink,’ insisted Dan and, without waiting for a reply, strode off in the direction of the Bamboo Bar. This entails a short walk outside and, as we passed through the doors and beyond the reach of the air conditioning, the humid, heavy air hit us like a wall. But it was only a few steps before another door was opened for us by a smiling waitress and we settled into the cool comfort of the bar.
Dan, it turned out, was on a swing round his eastern empire of office affiliates to get a hands-on feel for what was happening in the region. It’s something he does every year. It isn’t strictly necessary, of course, but it gets him away from head office for a time something which both he and the forty-something, who now runs the business, welcome. For the real workers it is used as an opportunity to get him out the way. He is, to tell the truth, a bit of an embarrassment: someone to whom new clients are briefly introduced and then whisked away before he has a chance to bore them with his outdated views on the purpose and practice of investor relations .
But in Asia they respect grey hairs and listen to him whether out of interest or courtesy. And the trip always affords him time to recharge his batteries in Penang, Phuket or Bali.
Dan has done pretty well out of southeast Asia. Privatizations and GDRs have delivered a steady stream of clients into the US and Europe over the last decade and, through carefully nurturing contacts with investment banks, government officials and businessmen during his annual trips, Dan ensured that his firm got more than its fair share. He built the relationships and then the young guys were flown in to do the business.
‘Well, I guess the party’s over for the time being,’ Dan said as we got to the end of our cocktails. ‘We won’t be seeing that kind of business any more. What I don’t understand is why the so-called experts, the bankers and portfolio managers, never saw that the Asian economic miracle was built on sand.’
‘Did you?’ I asked.
‘Of course I did,’ he said. ‘That’s why we kept it simple, working through affiliates rather than setting up a huge infrastructure. There were pressures to set up offices, especially in Japan, but I resisted. Of course we missed out when western corporations were queueing up to list in Tokyo but, given the costs of being on the ground there, I never thought it made sense. It was all a bit like fashion boutiques.’
Seeing I didn’t get the analogy, he went on. ‘You know the way smart shops have Paris, Milan and Beverly Hills on their logos. Well a lot of people in our field thought having New York, London and Tokyo on their letterheading was good for business.’
I pondered aloud the possibility of strong links between investor relations and fashion, but for once Dan wasn’t in the mood for small talk. A pressing engagement was on his mind.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said, signing the check. ‘I’m due for a massage in the spa. It’s great for getting over jetlag.’
Since he had only flown in from Singapore, I didn’t see that jetlag could be much of a problem but Dan was always self indulgent. What was, perhaps, a sign of the times was that he was going for a massage in the quiet respectability of the hotel rather than one of Bangkok’s more exotic establishments.
We went out into the evening heat, turned past the now deserted swimming pools and the riverside terrace, with its early diners, and stopped by the jetty for the ferry to the spa across the river.
On the far side of the river were several half-finished buildings on which no work had been done for months.
Watching the ferry make its way carefully between the long-tai boats heading up and down the river, I thought of the adventurers of the past who had sailed up the Chao Phraya in the hope of making their fortunes. They were no more. Someday soon Dan and his kind would join them. And the world will be a worse place.
