Day 1 - UK

Normally I write ‘Buzzes’ rather than ‘Blogs’. ‘Buzzes’ are those world-altering ideas that hit you just as you get into bed and that aren’t going to leave you in peace until you put fingers to keyboard. This evening, it seems like Blog and Buzz are one and the same – writing about today is basically collating a whole series of other people’s inspiring ideas and stories, any one of which would normally spark off enough excitement to keep me buzzing for about a week. The overstimulation was so much for me yesterday that I couldn’t sleep until 5.30am; writing a blog tonight is also verging on a medical necessity for me!

Buzz one hit me on pushing open the heavy door at the top of a filthy derelict warehouse staircase to reveal a rickety-ikea-cool welcoming light warm space. Industrial converted to industrious, The Hub makes you want to whip out a sleek laptop and create or design or share brilliant ideas in discreet undertones. Or, as the twelve of us meeting there actually did, moan about early mornings and gobble the organic tropical fruit breakfast laid on.

Richard’s first exercise had us clinging to the plates of pineapple as we were polarised across the room by various searching political questions. An individual’s ability to create social change, the timeframe for change, the justification for millionaire social entrepreneurs – realising that all but two of my colleagues completely disagreed with my most deeply held beliefs about right and wrong was challenging for me before nine o’clock this morning. It made me despair a little.

Creating our personal heraldric shields cheered me up though. St Michael of All Angles had no stripey socks but two book plugs, Andrea’s aggressive driving, and Ru’s lower tree bolt-hole stuck with me, but I remain intrigued by Bob’s nasty behaviour secret. Most people kept it pretty polite “when I’m happy, I smile; and when I’m sad, I’m just like to be on my own”, apart from Pooja-the-Brat-Warrier who deserves a special prize for honesty. It was interesting that about what gave about half the group pride was someone close to them, and the other half took most pride in their work – I’m sure there’s some ‘who I am’ v. ’what I do’ distinction that we could explore.

Ten thirty or so and still no coffee, my internal organs were beginning to shut down.

Then came Buzz 2, Jonathan Robinson, whose memory will keep me buzzing for several months. It’s pretty rare to be far-too-good-to-be-true, and all the more amazing for it. The close-knit group of friends who have collaborated again and again over the years, their balls and imagination, and their demonstrable achievement made me ache with my impressedness. Then made me want to get off my arse and create something similar around myself. But I’ll never be able to exude Jonathan’s humility or imitate his natural storytelling. I just count myself lucky to have met him.

A coffee bean screensaver has taken over my brain for some time by the time it was twelve o’clock; Ru squeezing my arm in sympathy and Zulf’s handing me the coffee he’d poured for himself were the two kindest things anyone did for me today.

A collection of other social entrepreneurs crowded in, seeming a bit bemused at who we were. There wasn’t enough time or focus to understand what these people actually did – The Learning House, Anti-Apathy, EnabledLondon and Lightweight Medical – but knowing that they worked in the hub was enough to character and credit rate them. Both Jonathan and Michael had referred a few times to ‘serendipity’, which is a nice word but conveys too much randomness to accurately describe what is just plain networking. The thought that the world might be full of startling coincidences, meaning that I happened to personally know 90% of people that any of the speakers had mentioned by name, did start to make my head spin a bit so I beat it hastily out of the Hub before I discovered a longlost relative or lovechild lurking by the multimedia room.

Only half way through reflecting on the day but my blogbuzz is abating. Happily I didn’t take much in from the afternoon as my headache was too far gone. In the minibus on the way to Woolwich, James suggested that we each get a ‘wildcard’ day which allows us to just not play game and stay in bed. I was wishing he’d come up with this brilliant rule earlier so I could’ve been the first taker.

GreenWorks was warehouse charity shabby, like our unit in Glasgow, as opposed to the design chic shab of the Hub. It’s funny how entering somewhere shabby makes you feel like you’ve uncovered something amazing – a diamond in the rough – and that’s why I guess none of us recycling charities bother to replace loo roll or clear cobwebs from grimy sills. Gwyneth was really welcoming, although again slightly unsure about who on earth we were and what we were doing. Colin bounded in, ushered us, and began. Big, open, perceptive and good humoured, he gave us the guided tour, but by rote with no tailoring. It was a month since he’d been there but you got the feeling that the staff liked and respected him and viceversa. The swivel chair mountain and casually dressed contractors smashing them in the yard, was the only sign of fall-out from a slick operation. It was nice to be reminded about the root reasons for bothering to recycling. It’s how I live and what I do for a living so I’m almost so habituated that I forget the point. Interesting spiel and then politely asked to leave – unfortunately it sometimes just has to be done.

So we left without really saying goodbye and without Zulfiqar, although it took us about ten minutes to realise and go back to scoop him off the kerb.

A break reminded me I was a functioning human, and then a reflective session in a very strange garage/ballroom/chapel space got me interested again. Richard indulging us for about half an hour before telling us the answer on how to record our experiences but it was another chance to see people speak and glean a little more information about them, amid several accidents waiting to happen – tumbling candelabra, pulling of chairs, dropping of sacred orange lantern.

Dinner was what we had been waiting for and everyone took seats looking tired and pinched. Twenty minutes later when olives had arrived and wine was flowing, I looked up the table to see people bellowing, giggling and smiling, presided over (and paid for) by Richard at one end and Pooja at the other, and thought how happy and lucky everyone was, and how we hadn’t even really yet got started.