The Secret Package - Ivy Poolbar

Max was at the Ivy Pool Bar Friday afternoon last week.

Over 300 fund management executives were in attendance at the ‘2011 S&P Fund Awards’ luncheon.  The luncheon was about to wrap up in the function room and I was at the Poolbar on the direction of Mr. Berlingo.

This exclusive function may have had formalities resulting in the ‘Fund Manager of the Year’ award, but the consequence of gathering such a powerful group of people together was clear: the accumulation of more funds and planning its allocation.  The connections made over poached quail at lunch and drinks at the pool bar afterwards have shifted the flow of funds as not planned before Friday last week.  Capital fathers children of more capital, and the family just got bigger for some in attendance.

Berlingo asked me to deliver a package when I met him at his Aurora Place office. 

The instructions included: “wait at the Poolbar for a gentleman named Francis to exit the awards function and come up to the bar.  Wear a dark blue open-neck collared shirt and put a pen behind your ear, periodically using it to jot down notes in a horse racing form-guide.  Francis will recognise you.  He’ll order a Peroni and strike up a conversation."

Waiting for Francis to arrive, I made myself comfortable sitting at the bar.  The bar staff had few other customers, and to amuse my time I did my best to be the most interesting thing they had to play with.

Courtney, blonde with big shiny eyes, turned out to be more interesting than anything I had to offer.  I stumbled through her questions about my faux interest in horse racing as we chatted.  But a benefit of that was my comment, “you have big beautiful eyes,” and I paused then said with a grin, “like a horse!”  

Courtney blurted a laugh and said “thanks!  I think.” 

I followed up with, “so are you a career bartender or is this just paying the bills?”

She said she’s on the roster at Ivy between an honours degree in neuropsychopharmacology, and then asked for a test, “go on, name a drug and I’ll give you an explanation.”

“Hmm, marijuana,” I replied.

“Something more difficult,” she said with a disapproving look, “everyone knows about weed.”

“Ok, how about methadone.”

“Well, that ends in ‘one which means it’s a drug that supresses pain receptors in the body,” she explained.

Our encounter was halted when Francis came up to the bar as planned.  He ordered a Peroni and a vodka lime Soda, then said, ”form guide hey, better odds than the sharemarket these days.” and he continued, “a mates horse is running at Toowoomba tomorrow, mind if I have a look?”

 “I’m finished, it’s all yours,” I replied, as I handed Francis the form guide.  Inside was the package from Berlingo – a letter, thick with several pages, and what felt like a key and plastic card.

“Thanks mate,” Francis replied.  He pulled out a wallet with gold American Express Card from his blue pin-striped Armani suit and asked Courtney to start a tab, then turned to me, “what are you drinking?  I’ve got your next one.”

“Cheers, thanks... Peroni,” I replied, secretly hoping a free beer wasn’t what Berlingo had in mind as ‘potentially lucrative.’

My job was done, my beer still half full and another one was on the way.  Looking around the pool bar it was easy to see that beauty is common, but suffice to say I was being won over by Courtney's sparkling beauty plus killer intelligence – a lethal combination.  Perhaps a conversation about her expert knowledge in chemistry of the brain would ignite chemistry of our own.

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Viktoria @ The Gaslight

Max was at The Gaslight on Friday night in Surry Hills to celebrate a friend’s 24^th birthday.

Viktoria, just an acquaintance, was there via our mutual 24 year old friend, and she brought with her a small posse of work friends whom I’d never met.  She’s always caught my attention – tall, glowing complexion, a Stephanie Rice look-alike minus the swimmers shoulders.  And Friday night, compared to the rare occasions I’d met her before, she was the life of the party.

We struck up a conversation, ice broken by our shared taste in Coopers Pale Ale.   While making chit-chat her friends kept gravitating around us, so I made a simple comment, “you must be the leader of your friends, they’re jealous of me talking to you.”

“Ha ha, no I’m not,” embarrassment showing in her response, “I’m not usually out much, well until recently.”

“Really, why not?”  I enquired.

“It’s actually a long story,” she replied.

“Go ahead, I’m intrigued,” I encouraged.

She started to tell me, “Ok, well I was making breakfast about 3 weeks ago.”

I laughed, probably too loudly in hindsight, but I thought it was a sign of some quirky humour, and I said, “right, this really IS a long story.”

“Noooo,” she said, “I’m serious,” urging me to listen.

A bit surprised, I adjusted my pose to accept this “serious” information.  She took that as an indication of my interest and after a long pause of assessment continued, “I was making breakfast and for some reason I turned the toaster setting to 5 instead of 3 – it was like a totally unconscious act.  The toast pops and it’s burnt.  My breakfast ritual was light brown toast with juicy butter and vegemite, EVERY morning.”

She made an emphasis on the EVERY part and continued, “I was disappointed but didn’t want to waste it, so I ate a dissatisfying breakfast.  I went to work, totally unenthused by my day ahead, but there was a slight difference.  I usually break at 2pm for a piccolo latte and a raspberry friand.  Then 2 o’clock, 3, 4 all passed without a thought.  A caffeine and sugar break is usually the only thing that stops me falling asleep at my computer and resenting the calls from annoying Mastercard clients.”

She had told me earlier she’s a Customer Liason Manager at GE Capital, and then segued to tell me:

“Oh I had the funniest call this week, a guy called to ask about a charge on his statement from ‘confidenceplus.co.uk.’  He was giving the call centre grief so I took the call and he wouldn’t let me go until I gave him a detailed explanation.  So I Googled it while he was on the phone, and get this, it’s a website for “penile enlargement without messy creams and ointments!”

She made a cute, scrunched face and ‘inverted comma’ gesture while she said it, and continued with a mock masculine and authoritative voice, “the key to confidence is sexual competence, Confidence Plus will give you the powerful erection you’ve always dreamed of!”

We cracked up laughing.  She said he hung up promptly after thanking her for her help, and she continued…

“Anyway, I’ve been having problems with energy levels right.  I thought it was a lack of red meat so I started buying lamb back-straps and 300g t-bones, but I was still feeling lethargic.  My doctor said I’m depressed and recommended Prozac but I thought that was ridiculous, so I went to a Chinese medicine doctor.  He checked my pulse, tongue, eyes, finger nails, then gave me a bag of herbs to mix with a tea every morning.”

Her eyes started widening as she continued the story, “his diagnosis was I’m not metabolising carbohydrates and I need to cut sugar from my diet.”  She motioned, eyes averted in a guilty and adorable way, “so bye-bye friands.”

Then she jumped forward on her seat, like a cattle-prod had been sparked on her arse, clearly excited by what she was about to tell me, “AND, he told me to overcook my toast!  Because burning the toast changes the chemistry of the carbs, or some crap like that, and makes them agreeable for digestion!  My mind froze, I ‘accidently’ burnt my toast earlier that week!  I don’t know what to think, but IIIII reckon,” pointing to herself as her spoke, “that my unconscious act of turning the toaster dial to 5 was the hand of my guardian angel,” giving herself a nod of approval as she spoke.   “How else can I explain it? And for the past two weeks I’ve been doing circuit classes at Rushcutters Bay Park before work, something I’ve wanted to do for years, and I still had too much energy after work so I’m starting a night class with my niece next week, it's called “Making Finger Puppets for Digital Theatre.”

“Nice play on words,” I said.

“Oh, you get it!” she replied enthusiastically while affectionately touching me on the arm, “you’re the only person I’ve told that has.”

Our drinks were finished by now so we ordered another Pale Ale… together this time.

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European Wealth: Destination Sydney

Maxx was walking on Bridge street Friday last week - Sydney's version of Wall Street NYC, and named so because it was the location of the first bridge over the Tank Stream.

The stream once divided the working class area of The Rocks from the grand sandstone buildings of the government in the east.

It was on the east side and up the hill that I crossed paths with three generations of a powerful and exceptionally wealthy family.  Remaining inconspicuous was not their plan, with a private security entourage leading, surrounding and trailing the family, heading towards Govenor Phillip Tower.

A man stopped at the lights of Elizabeth street had some knowledge he was clearly eager to share.  He was well dressed but unkept, whispy black hair with drandruff on the shoulders of his dark blue suit - a well estabilished lawyer type, successful and noticibly eccentric.

He said, "you know who they are?"

Maxx shrugged.

"Old money," the man replied.  "Schiffer family, from Germany.  People like that don't make a trip to Sydney without good reason."

I learnt that Great-Grandfather Schiffer made the family's fortune in copper and railroads then set up mining interests on the family's vast land holdings.

With Europe stuggling to keep whole nations in the black, let alone generate good returns for people like the Schiffers, money must find safety in hard assets like manufacturing and natural resources.

So old money is heading to the antipodes and the safety of Australia's natural resourses, because China and Africa are too politically and financially risky, and it's easier for the Schiffer's to say 'hello' than 'ni-hao.'

Mr Berlingo @ Aurora Place

Mr Berlingo's cocktail party fell through several weeks back.  Maxx followed Berlingo’s original instructions to attend the party and left contact details with the concierge at his Sydney home, the ‘Finger Wharf’ in Woolloomooloo.

Previous post: (http://maxxpowers.blogspot.com/2011/03/summit-cocktails-with-mr-berlingo.html). 

Berlingo cancelled and urgently flew to Shanghai.  Turns out a hedge-contract for Zinc with a Chinese resources broker was in a dangerous position, the uncertainty of the Japanese tsunami spoiled his fun and potential for profit in the millions.  When it came to the minerals trade, finance and hedging, Berlingo was it.  Rumour has it Berlingo profited billions for his company from speculation in what eventually saw winners and mostly losers during the ’97 Asian Financial Crisis – he was obviously a winner.

Maxx's phone rang early this morning: "Maxx, its Berlingo… come to my office, my PA will give you details, I’ll put you through to Claire now."  The call came out of the blue, but via Claire Maxx knew exactly where to go – Aurora Place, better known as the “RBS” building.

The lift to the 32nd floor took a few seconds before the door sprung open, no time for slow lifts in this world I suppose.  The office assistant Stephanie greeted me at the door, “this way Maxx, Mr Berlingo is expecting you.”  Seems Berlingo has many assistants to take care of the finer details.

Inside Berlingo’s office a computer screen with flashing numbers on a desk near the window drew my eye towards a view over the Eastern suburbs.  200 years ago the view would have me looking over the high walls that enclosed the Domain as Governor Macquarie’s private gardens - apparently a popular place for thrill seeking lovers to make a hot summer night even steamier by frolicking behind the walls.

Back in the office a large, ornate wooden cabinet by the wall lead Maxx to have a closer look, full of coloured rocks at first glance.  Mr Berlingo walked in the door and noticed the interest I took in what I learned to be his collection of minerals and ores.  Quite striking in the cabinet was the raw gold nugget and sealed clear case with a silver metal inside.  Mr Berlingo said, "if the magnesium inside that case was on the shelf it would react with water vapour in the air and end up as hydrogen gas.”  Good reason to be in an air-tight container I suppose.

Berlingo continued, "my father brought home some iron ore when I was 8 years old.  He was away a lot when I grew up and arrived back after 3 months away, on a mine as an engineer.  My father said, son - this ore is creating the tallest buildings, transporting billions of people and even penetrating the chests of men in Vietnam as we speak."

Berlingo said he kept that ore on his bedside table for years and it's the same rusted looking stone in his cabinet today.  In a roundabout way he said it lead him from studying finance and economics to focusing on the global commodities and minerals trade.

Cutting to the chase, Berlingo pulled an envelope out of his pocket and said, “I need your help Maxx.  I need someone in Sydney I can trust.  Inside this envelope is something very important and, if you’re willing to help me out, very lucrative.  I need you to deliver it for me.”

... to be continued

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Orbit Bar: cocktails with Mr Berlingo

Maxx says the best place to relax and take in a 360 degree view of Sydney has to be the Orbit Bar, Australia Square.

5pm Friday seemed like a good opportunity to do just that.  I take my place at a window seat, they're usually in high demand at peak times, but on this occasion most seats are free and the service quick.  Pen in hand, Becks beer on the way and so began the revolving 47th-floor orbit.

On the harbour a good number of people are enjoying what I consider is the ultimate Sydney leisure activity.  If you haven't sailed around the harbour then you haven't experienced the best Sydney has to offer.

I'm dividing time between sipping pilsner, scribbling some notes and enjoying the view when I notice a gent sitting a couple of seats up, on a solo adventure similar to me.  He looks familiar but I can't quite figure where I've seen him.  He's well dressed, has dark, greying hair, mid-forty's - fellow beer drinker.  I nod and offer a quick "hi."

I get a "hey" in return and detect a North American accent.

"Awesome view."

"Yeah, reminds me what I'm missing when I'm not back home here," he replies.

We continue small talk.  I find out he grew up in the northern suburbs of Sydney, started in a law career at the big end of town where money's made, moved and multiplied, then left Sydney several years ago to be based in the US.

We're having a good yarn about Sydney, New York, sport.  We finish our beers and he says, "you know we shouldn't come to a cocktail bar and not critique their finest, my shout."  He orders a Mojito.  'The Burning Monk' with lime leaves, chilli, vodka, ginger liqueur and lychee seemed like the best choice for me.

The discussion gets alot more interesting as the sun sets and cocktails loosen the conversation.  He tells me about the mega deals that have grown his company, how the movement of cash and capital is making and breaking people and whole nations every second of the day.  That Australia is becoming more and more a financial and econmic powerhouse, Sydney growing a global identity beyond famous landmarks and that there are opportunities a plenty here for those willing to live 'close to the edge.'

He pays the bill, and on leaving drops a business card and says "here, I'm throwing a cocktail party next weekend, send me an email, my assistant will leave your name plus a guest with the concierge at my place in Woolloomooloo."

"And... don't forget, if you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much room."

So perhaps I'll see Mr. Berlingo* again soon.

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* - name changed for privacy.

Can you eat a Blue Tongue Lizard?

Maxx ventured out of the jungle recently to walk The Hermitage Foreshore walking track from Rose Bay to Neilson Park in Valucluse, about 10 kilometers east of the Sydney CBD.  Half way to Neilson Park near Hermit Bay, I came across a big fat Blue Tongue Lizard, his name was Steve.  A little exposed was Steve, having found a nice sunny patch of the concrete pavement to warm his cold blood.

Maxx wasn't hungry and Steve didn't want to be eaten, but I pondered the question: 

If I wanted to eat Steve am I allowed to?  is there a law against eating local wildlife?

There are an extimated 20,000 bats making a home in the Botanical Gardens in Sydney.  They're interesting to look at hanging in the trees and it's poetic watching them leave each dusk silhouetted against the city skyline, harbour and setting sun.  But they're a pest - one current effort to get rid of them is to play construction noises through speakers.



So - can we eat them? 

I suggest butterfly fillet on a BBQ hot plate, remove the wings and deep-fry for a crispy entre.  My dipping sauce of choice would be garlic aioli.

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Precious cargo on the QM2

The Queen Mary 2 cruise ship is now docked at Woolloomoolloo.

In the movie Gladiator , when first approaching the colosseum, Juba says to Maximus - "I didn't know men could build such things."

That Gladiator scene came to mind when I was looking over the QM2 from Emarkation Park in Potts Point.  It's no surprise to me it has been built, so the Gladiator analogy dies at this point.  'Tis nonetheless quite impressive.

There are a couple of Navy Frigates (Parramatta and Ballarat) and two Guided Missile Frigates (Melbourne and Sydney) docked in front of the QM2.  Maxx asked a passing Navy person walking along Cowper Wharf Road what brings her and her ship 'Sydney', to Sydney.  She said matter of factly - "we're escorts of the QM2 in Australian and International waters until the next Navy of a Commonwealth country takes over." 

"Interesting," I said.

"You have no idea," she replied.  "Lets just say if the precious cargo got in the wrong hands it would cause a few more problems than cashed-up retirees and wealthy industralists loose in Sydney."  She gestured to cover her mouth, "I've said too much, and I've got a squash game at 1830 hours, better go."

The mind boggles what the QM2 could be used for as top secret transport requiring 4 frigates as escorts, 2 of the guided missile variety no less!  Gold bullion, plutonium, WMD's, biological specimens of alien species found in the UK and brought to Australia for further analysis because our scientists are smarter.  The possibilities are endless, any ideas???

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