Andy Flemming’s Diary: No celebs, just dog urine

| | 4 Comments

10459919_10152071155986146_1114715730701065567_n.jpgAndy Flemming, creative director at M&C Saatchi is in Cannes. He writes exclusively for Campaign Brief.

9:00am Every single day I see the same two miserable reps for some small digital company standing outside the Carlton Hotel. They’ve got a coffee machine and everything. And it’s all free because they ‘brew great ideas’ or something. I’m yet to see anyone with one of their coffees. Fuck it, why would you want a free one when you can pay fifteen Euros for one on the Carlton terrace? I might talk to them tomorrow. They look sad.

9:15am Nearly got run over by a black supercar. I’ve no idea what it is but I stole one in GTA5. The asshole had the nerve to beep me as I walked across one of the million pedestrian crossings they have here. I stopped in the middle of the road to stare him out but his windows were tinted so I don’t know if he stared back. I’ve seen the same car do the same circuit on numerous occasions. I think he’s trying to pick up women. The women obviously aren’t biting as everyone’s got a fucking supercar here. It’s probably rented.

 

9:26am I’m normally fighting a massive hangover in a seminar at 9:30, but I’ve forgotten my phone so I’m back at the hotel. My room has this little courtyard thing outside which I use to make phone calls as it gets better reception. I do this barefoot normally. I won’t be doing this ever again as I’ve just seen the owner’s daughter nonchalantly watching her dogs urinate down here. It’s a fucking dog toilet. I thought those puddles were from the aircon or something.

 

9:48am Everyone’s posting pictures of these great parties they’ve been to. I’ve been to one and the DJ was shit. I actually ran onto the dance floor as he dropped the opening to ‘Insomnia’ by Faithless. After about ten seconds he mixed in some euro crap and everyone went nuts. Here’s a tip. If you need to wee, do it before you go out. The queues for the toilets are fucking insane. I considered walking into the sea and just going out there but for some reason they’d stuck tough looking security guards along the water’s edge to stop us doing it.

 

9:50am I need Wi-Fi, so I tried to blag my way into the ‘Havas Café.’ Lots of cool types are lounging on sofas and drinking coffee in what looks like a business class lounge. They refuse to let me in even after I namedrop every single person I know at Havas, and that includes Steve Coll who doesn’t even work there anymore. I walk off to the Palais where at least you get a good connection but no comfy sofas. Just people talking about content.

 

10:00am Seminars. The agency model is changing. Do more digital. Tell stories. Be brave. Dream more. Technology will change everything. Content is king. Thank you, you’ve been a great audience.

 

5:30pm. David Droga stood up and shook my hand as if he actually recognised me. That was really kind of him as I haven’t spoken to him since about 1994.

 

8:00pm England vs. Uruguay. I think I have some very distant German heritage so I’m supporting them now. At least they’ll get out of their fucking group.

 

11:20pm The last days of Rome – or the Carlton Terrace at night. Ted Royer’s here. I think we stole a magnum of wine. I don’t know how we did it, or why, but we drank it all and that’s when my memories start to get hazy.

 

12:10am I’ve just spent about twenty minutes talking to the global head of Procter and Gamble. I did this big sell on how fucking awesome our agency is and how we’ve made all these great hires and stuff. I think at the time my intention was for her to just, I don’t know, give us the entire business for Australia and I’d return home a hero. At one point she stopped me falling over. That would be the stolen magnum kicking in. Anyway. She was lovely – even if she was the Global Head of Procter and Gamble for fucking Leo Burnett. She wasn’t even a client. I told her how great Burnett’s were in Australia, said goodbye and stumbled off into a table.

 

12:45 Everyone’s either caught a cold at exactly the same time or I’ve just realised why the fucking toilet lines are so long.