Work, work, work

Loyal readers may have noticed that I haven't posted regularly for more than a year. The reason for this is simple. In June last year, Garry and I acquired Artiwood, a boutique toy importer and wholesaler with a strong eco-friendly philosophy. It took five months of intensive negotiations, starting in February, to finally do the deal. Since then we've been working crazy hours including most weekends.

It took us three years to find the company. I’d almost given up hope of ever finding a truly well-run small business that, (a) Garry and I could afford, (b) that we liked enough to buy and, (c) that played to our collective strengths and passions. Artiwood is probably about as close to ideal as we could have imagined.

In the three years before we acquired it, the company grew more than 40% annually. According to the previous owner, he wanted to sell simply because it had become too successful. As he tells the story, the rapid growth adversely impacted his laid-back, alternative lifestyle. At the time, he lived in a communal rainforest retreat in the hills near Byron Bay.

However, despite his remote location, he’d set the business up with a highly outsourced infrastructure.  The warehouse function was outsourced, as were marketing, IT and accounting activities. It could basically be operated from anywhere in Australia (or overseas). As a result, it was relatively easy for Garry and I to transfer its operations to Sydney. We now run it remotely from a home office in our apartment.

We also put the former owner on contract for a year to help get up to speed on the toy industry, transition existing business relationships and help source new suppliers. Hiring him part-time also enabled us to negotiate a better selling price and reduce our stamp duty. He ultimately decided to exit the business early, and left in March, thus saving us a few additional dollars.

It’s been an intense period, to say the least. In year to 30 June, we grew Artiwood another 29%, with record growth in nine of the previous 12 months. We’ve also launched a new CRM system, added a new accounting system, and introduced new product safety procedures. We're now hard at work developing a new, modern e-commerce website, and refreshing its corporate identity.

If that wasn't enough, we’ve also published a new catalogue, built in an entirely new application, (and added 20 pages to it), exhibited at three Melbourne trade shows, plus another in Sydney, kicked off a monthly email marketing program, added a new part-time salesperson, and done all of this while enduring the usual learning curve that comes with owning a new business.

UPDATE: 20 July 2017

Almost a year later than planned, we've finally launched our new website. The initial response from retailers, suppliers and industry colleagues has been overwhelmingly positive.

Frigid Melbourne

We’re back in Melbourne for business this week. We've flown down in August for the last two years to spend a week exhibiting our company at the AGHA Gift Fair. This event is split between two venues; some exhibitors are based at the Melbourne Conference and Exhibition Centre (MCEC) in town, while the rest, including Artiwood, are based at the less salubrious Showgrounds near Flemington Racecourse.

Several contractors also join Garry and me to help set up and staff our stand. This includes Gaby and Robbie whom we fly in from Mullumbimby, plus Emily and her Mum who coordinate our organic plush toy section. It’s a busy week that sees us spend the entire day on-site at the showgrounds before returning each night to our Airbnb apartment. Gaby and Robbie are also staying with us.

For this event, I’ve rented a three-bedroom rooftop penthouse in Brunswick. The apartment features a massive outdoor balcony. However, it’s bitterly cold in Melbourne (and we’ve discovered that there’s no gas in the BBQ) so we’ve spent very little time enjoying this spectacular outdoor space. 

I must admit that the two days we spent setting up our stand weren't much fun either. The venue's loading dock doors remained open during set up. As a result, the ambient temperature inside the building was as cold, if not cooler than outside. It was a bitter 5C when we arrived on site shortly after 9:00am on Friday. The daytime high then briefly hit 13C, before dropping to 10C around 5:00pm.

This apartment is the first Airbnb rental I've booked. I finally yielded to market forces and registered with the app in April. Last year I booked us into a tiny serviced apartment that wasn't memorable by any stretch of the imagination.

Shelving plans

Earlier this month I flew across the Tasman to spend time with my Mum and my brothers. It’s become something of a tradition for me to spend Easter, or the June and October three-day weekends in New Zealand. As co-owner of a rapidly growing small business, these dates are the easiest for scheduling time off. Even more so given that Garry and I are still running our fledging business alone.

My latest trip was flown with Air New Zealand. I flew out on Saturday 11 June and back on Sunday 13 June. In recent years, I’ve been catching flights to Tauranga via Wellington. This route offers the best of both worlds. Flights depart Sydney at a civilised hour in the morning (9:45am). The stopover is relatively short (2:05 hours) with a quick and easy domestic transfer (none of that schlepping between distant terminals as in Auckland). Then the final flight arrives in Tauranga in time for dinner (6:20pm).

While in town, I took Mum shopping to buy some display shelves for the sunroom zone in her house. For years Mum’s had a chunky low profile “diarrhea brown” bookcase on display here. She and Dad inherited it when my grandparents moved into Uncle Stuart's granny flat. This bookcase always looked out of place once my parents moved to the Mount.

I’m delighted to report that we eventually found some stunning dark chocolate brown open-ended bookcases at Greerton Furnishings. Mum’s dolls from Japan and Africa now have pride of place on these stylish new shelves, along with souvenirs from her recent trip along the Mekong in May.  

I’ve also updated a personal budget I created for Mum two years ago. At the time, Mum was worried about her financial well-being. To reassure her, I analyzed 12 months of her personal expenses, investment income and, so on. I then used this data to build an annual budget that showed she could live comfortably for another 15 years. The budget included all living costs, plus a series of one-off expenses such as international holidays, a replacement car and a contingency for the unexpected.

Matt told me that Mum burst into tears of relief the first time I completed this exercise in 2014. She’d clearly been concerned she didn’t have enough money to live. In hindsight, it was another of those watershed moments she experienced after Dad’s death. He’d always looked after the household finances, so this was all new territory for poor Mum.

This trip I got an updated valuation for her home. The property’s value has increased by almost a third in two years. This reassured Mum that she could afford to downsize, at any time in the future if funds ran short, and still have plenty of cash left to sail around the world if it pleased her.

Talking about sailing, I think I’ve also convinced Mum to take a closer look at doing a solo cruise around Hawaii with Norwegian Cruise Lines. They do a brilliant week-long route around the islands taking in many of the highlights I’ve enjoyed in the past. 

In the meantime, Garry and I have agreed to take Mum to Port Douglas for a tropical reef experience over the next year's ANZAC long weekend. Mum reminded me that she’s not been to Far North Queensland since 1992 (I think it was September). 

At the time, I flew up from Sydney to see her and Dad. This was the first time we’d caught up face to face since I’d relocated to Australia in February 1990. I’d been so poor in those early years that every penny I earned was ploughed back into living expenses. That's us above heading off to Green Island for the day.

Our upcoming Queensland excursion came about after I realised Mum had a pile of Qantas frequent flyer points that were about to expire. She'd earned these during our trip to South Africa last year. After a small points top-up from me, Mum had enough points for return flights from Auckland to Sydney, so we booked some trans-Tasman flights while I was in town.

UPDATE: 2 July

For ANZAC next year I've booked us into a superb apartment overlooking the beach in Port Douglas. 

Nuremberg after dark

Garry and I spent seven fast and furious days working in Nuremberg at the start February.  We’d travelled to Germany to walk the halls of Spielwarenmesse, the world’s largest toy fair.  The event is huge.  Literally thousands of exhibitors from around the world crowd into 16 enormous exhibition halls located just south of the city’s infamous Nazi-era parade ground.

The volume and variety of toys on show is simply mind-boggling. Entire halls are given over to a single toy genre.  There’s literally one hall for dolls, one for model trains, one for wooden toys and so on.  We spent hours each day literally walking miles up and down most of these halls.  Our time was spent meeting with current suppliers and scouting for new products to add to our catalogue.

We’d originally thought we might get some time off to visit a few of the city’s landmark sights.  However, the days simply flew by and we never ventured far from our hotel or the fair itself.  In fact the only tourist moment we enjoyed was a walk one evening through the cobbled streets of the old town down to the Pegnitz river.  Maybe next year we’ll find time to see a few sights?

Riding the Death Railway

Thailand’s infamous death railway passed through dense tropical jungle and steep, remote river valleys for much of its length.  This route resulted in the construction of numerous trestle bridges, rock cutting, and mile upon mile of hillside cuttings (typically called benches).  The work was back-breaking and often dangerous.  Tropical diseases, industrial accidents, and malnutrition took a heavy toll.  An estimated 180,000 died during its construction, including thousands of Australian POWs at the infamous Hellfire Pass.

The 415 km line was completed on 25 October 1943 and operated under wartime conditions for a further 22 months. During this time it transported more than a quarter of a million tons of food, ammunition and ordnance to Japanese troops in Burma.  Several thousand troops also made the journey. 

However, after the Japanese surrender in 1945 the railway’s value came into question.  In particular, returning British administrators were concerned that it could be used to supply and reinforce rebellious Burmese hill tribes who oppose the return of their colonial administration.  In 1947, last than four years after its opening, the British tore up a section of track and all operations ceased along the line.  

The irony of this decision is hard to ignore.  An oppressive and brutal imperial power (Japan) built the railway to expand and project its control of the surrounding region. Yet when the war was over another invasive imperial power destroyed it in order to stop the locals from challenging its authority.

After severing the link with Burma the Allied authorities agreed to sell the section stretching from the Burmese border into Thailand back to the Thailand government.  However, a subsequent survey of the line resulted in a decision to close it entirely.  In 1957 a section of the railway was reopened from Nong Pladuk to Nam Tok.  This section remains in service today.

Tourists and locals can catch a train from Kanchanaburi (where the train crosses the renowned Bridge over the River Kwai) to the former jungle terminus of Nam Tok.  The journey’s highlights include a slow and winding transit along the Wampo Viaduct built by prisoners of war.  The viaduct consists of wooden trestles that sit on a narrow rock ledge carved precariously into towering cliffs along the edge of Kwai River.  The entire journey takes several hours. 

Garry and I joined a tour that meets the train south of the Wampo Viaduct.  Our tour coach literally chased the train through the rural countryside for several kilometres before the train suddenly stopped in the middle of nowhere.  It was here we boarded the train where several empty carriages at the back of the train had been reserved for us. 

We paid a little extra to secure a window seat on the carriage’s most scenic side, then sat back and watched as Thai village life rolled by.  We knew when we finally approached the viaduct as rows of tourists and backpackers appeared alongside the track.  The train then slowed to a crawl as we crossed onto the trestle bridge.  The transition itself was rather dramatic. In a single moment, a solid and rather lush green lawn that stretched past a quaint local station gave way to a plunging, foreboding rock face.

The sight of the train winding its way along the narrow rock ledge below was equally spectacular.  We could literally lean out of our carriage and see past the edge of the track to the river itself dozens of metres below us.  Once safely back on level ground, our train pulled into a local station where we got off and joined the coach taking us back to Bangkok.

The Bridge on the River Kwai

The Bridge on the River Kwai was an epic Hollywood blockbuster. Released in 1957, it won seven Academy Awards, and has often been lauded as one of the greatest war epics of all time.  The movie’s screenplay is pure fiction.  However, the bridge around which the central plot revolves can be found about 128 kms north of Bangkok.

It was one of two bridges built by allied prisoners of war in 1943 as part of the Japanese Imperial Army’s notorious Death Railway line.  One bridge was temporary wooden structure while other bridge, constructed from concrete and steel is still standing today.  Its formidable structure spans the Mae Klong River near the town of Kanchanaburi.

The bridge's curved steel spans are original, and were brought from Java by the Japanese. However, the two straight-sided spans in the central section both come from Japan.  They were installed after the war to replace spans destroyed by allied bombing raids in 1945.

Kanchanaburi itself is fascinating place.  The original township was built along the river's edge. Each house was built on stilts in a manner that let them rise and fall as the river's level changed. Today the township is split between a land-based community founded in part by the Japanese army and the original water-borne buildings. Tourists are encouraged to make their way to the bridge via the river and thus experience the old township's unique location.

Garry and I visited the township and its famous bridge as part our overnight visit to Hellfire Pass.  Prior to our arrival we’d worked an entire weekend at the Nuremburg Toy Fair and were in need a break before plunging into our next round of business meetings in Bangkok.  To help us unwind we booked a night at a remote hotel floating on the river itself.

The Kwai River Raft Hotel was an amazing location. To reach it we had to travel by long boat about 15 minutes up river.  The venue itself is a string of wooden rafts upon which a series of thatched roof hotel rooms have been constructed.  The facilities were well maintained but relatively primitive.  There was no electricity and hot water.  Instead the staff lit kerosene lanterns in the evening and its more emboldens guests enjoyed refreshing cold showers.

However, despite its simple set up the hotel was well worth a visit.  We enjoyed reasonably civilised meals and found ourselves unwinding as we ventured “off the gird”.  With no television, internet or local entertainment we had plenty of time to rest and relax and soak in some wonderful river scenery. 

 

The complex is operated and staff by native Mon people from a nearby village.  We actually took a walking tour of the village shortly after we arrived.  Highlights of the tour included a visit to the local school’s open-air classroom and a pristine white and gold Buddhist stupa that sat serenely in the jungle.

However, for me the real highlight of our time on the River Kwai was the infamous bridge itself.  We were surprised, and delighted, to discover that we could actually walk across the bridge and explore its imposing structure first hand.  It was mind-blowing to think that more than 70 years ago allied bombers had been targeting the very location upon which we were standing. 

 Sadly, the harsh reality of war was bought home to us when we subsequently visited the Death Railway Museum.  It sits opposite the Kanchanaburi War Cemetery where almost 7,000 POWs, who sacrificed their lives constructing the Death Railway are buried.  The museum itself houses an excellent exhibit on the railway.  It was established in 2003 by an ex-pat Australian who wanted to research and preserve the region’s POW legacy.

Hellfire Pass: Least we forget

Ask most Australians to name the nation’s most notorious wartime locations and you’re likely hear three names again and again; ANZAC Cove, the Kokoda Trail and Hellfire Pass. Garry and I visited ANZAC Cove in May 2007. It was a truly moving experience that brought home the total insanity and harsh reality of war.

Hellfire Pass is remembered for the barbaric cruelty inflicted on Australian prisoners of world during World War II. It was part of a long abandoned stretch of railway built by the Japanese Army between Burma and Thailand in less than 16 months. An astonishing achievement - even more so when you consider that remote and muddy conditions meant that heavy machinery was rarely used. Instead most of the back-breaking construction was done entirely by hand.

The entire 415 kilometre track was built using imported Asian labour and prisoners of war from Australia, the UK and the Netherlands. Their Japanese captors were unbelievably harsh task masters. Almost 39 per cent of those who worked on the railway died.

The Asian labourers suffered the most. An estimated 180,000 died. The death rate among the prisoners of war while lower was still an appalling 20% representing almost 62,000 lives. More than 2,800 Australian prisoners died; largely from disease, malnutrition and the effects of harsh punishments meted out their captors.

Hellfire Pass was one of the most brutal locations along the line. Japanese engineers were not particularly skilled in tunnel building. As a result, a decision was taken to route the line through a deep rock cutting at Kannyu, about 150 kilometres from its southern starting point. Over a period of six weeks 400 Australian prisoners of war worked continuous shifts to hand carve a dramatic cutting some 75 metres long and 25 metres deep through solid rock. The sight of emaciated prisoners working through night, lit by oil lamps and bamboo fires, was said to resemble a scene from Hell.

Weary Dunlop, one of Australia’s most celebrated war heroes worked here. His compassion and care as a doctor, nursing the sick and dying was considered exceptional. Many times he put his own health at risk, earning himself physical punishment whenever he protested to the Japanese. At other times his sheer physical presence — he was nearly two metres tall — intimidated his captors while inspiring his fellow prisoners. He survived the war and lived until the age of 86. After his death in 1993, a portion of his ashes were subsequently buried at Hellfire Pass.

Today, Hellfire Pass has been preserved as a memorial, funded largely by the Australian Government. An informative museum guides visitor through the railway’s history and the construction of the nearby Kannyu Cutting. The infamous gully is reached via a flight of stairs which lead you onto a peaceful walking trail. The trail trace the original railway’s track curving hand-hewn bench, carved directly into the steep hillside, until you finally reach the cutting itself.

Garry and I visited the sight overnight while we were in Bangkok for a series of business meetings. I can honestly say that more than 70 years on the cutting remains an impressive sight. Garry and I found hard to believe that this impressive gully was cut by hand in less than two months.

Its rough rocky walls slice dramatically through the hillside. Previous visitors have nested commemorative flags, photos and flowers in various nooks and crannies along its walls. Some of the railway’s original wooden sleepers remain embedded in the ground. At the cutting’s northern end, the Australian Government has built a simple black granite memorial. It’s all very moving.

However, the entire scene is best captured from a small viewing platform at the top of the gully. From here the scale of this wartime engineering feat comes into stark focus. Arriving visitors appear insignificant as the walls tower around them. Sadly my photos barely do it justice. What more can I say. Hellfire Pass really is an unforgettable experience.