The James Tusk banter bus rolls on. Right now I’m in Warsaw – once again – the wonderful Polish capital for a last-minute bootcamp training event. Over the weekend we will be joined by more students.
We will also be creating content – filming those students who’ve given us their permission to do so in order to capture their journeys and something of the essence of a session like this which is difficult to describe unless you’ve actually attended.
In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, what happens on a bootcamp is we assemble a bunch of guys who need help with their social skills and put them through their paces, throwing them into challenging situations and approaches and feeding back on everything from their fashion to their posture, body language and verbals.
Given the intensity of this kind of training, students normally come out the other side exhausted but very happy with the progress they’ve made. In many cases we see guys who’ve never even spoken to a stranger before go on dates and even become intimate with women that they meet.
Of course, when the event is large, like the one we ran in Helsinki a week or so ago, it becomes quite a logistical feat to pull off, organising students, trainers and smoothing over any issues that come up as we proceed.
Which means that in between sessions the last thing you want is hassle.
Travel Woes
The life of the travelling trainer, living day-by-day on that banter bus that travels from country to country and city to city is, as you can imagine, an unconventional one. And as you take flights and check into hotels (pretty much always hotels these days since AirBnB became so expensive and to be frank all the messing around picking up keys isn’t worth it) the most petty, first-world problems come glaringly into focus.
At the airport you are told that baggage wasn’t included with your air ticket and you must report to another desk to pay the excess charge. At the hotel your room is on the sixth floor and when you get there the card key doesn’t work. And when you finally do get in their aircon doesn’t seem to be working.
And so on.
Magnified by tiredness and the irritability that comes with travel such minor blips assume massive proportions and it becomes difficult not to assume the diva-like wrath of Mariah Carey at the height of her fame.
Tusk travels perpetually, pretty much. I’m travelling more this year but I still have one hand holding the side of the pool since I have my flat in London. But as summer rolls into autumn and the opportunities that travel affords become more apparent, my tenuous grip on ‘normal life’ becomes ever weaker. At some point I will probably let go altogether and drift off into the great unknown, living a life which even 15 years ago would have been pretty much impossible.
Inexpensive and (relatively) easy travel plus the ability to make money online has changed up the game in unimaginable ways, and the old idea of what a ‘normal life’ should look like can be disposed of if you wish.
But perhaps human beings aren’t yet psychologically ready to forgo a sense of place and community, which is what happens when you are on the road for long periods of time. That, after all, is why rock stars go crazy in the course of long tours.
Still, the call of the wild is all but irresistible. And if you believe – as I do – that life is random, chaotic and without overarching ‘meaning’ then why not lean into the absurdity and rootlessness of hotel and airport lounge life?
The important thing is just to try not to go crazy if the maids try to get in to clean your room when you’re still sleeping after a late night!
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