Assembled in a Kerry hotel are boa constrictors, camels and Cleopatra. Is it a cabaret? Is it a circus? No, it's a Centra conference themed and decorated by Franc, wedding planner. Róisín Ingle reports
In the toilets of the conference centre, an actress playing Cleopatra adjusts her jet-black wig while an emperor, a man you could swear used to present Bosco, puts the finishing touches to his eyeliner. Outside, a couple of snakes await the appearance of their audience. In the garden, a pair of snorting, smelly camels are being cajoled by their handler. The place is stuffed with mummies, hookahs and giant wall hangings. Is it a wedding? Is it a birthday party? Not a bit of it. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the annual conference of the Centra convenience-store chain, a conference for the way we live today.
There is an Egyptian theme this year, in case you hadn't guessed, but just a few hours earlier this space at the Great Southern Hotel in Killarney, Co Kerry, looked like a regular food-retailer conference. Soft-drink displays and coffee machines stood alongside advertising for retail technology and delicatessen cabinets. Men and women with name tags wandered around or huddled in groups, chatting about the latest customer-service techniques.
They took notes as they listened to a senior manager from Wawa, a giant US chain, talk about the many-pronged "hedgehog technique". What are you deeply passionate about, he asked. What can you be the best in the world at? What drives your economic engine? The delegates sipped water as they received their mission. "To simplify," said Mr Wawa, "our customers' daily lives."
Behind the scenes, Franc, a Cork man otherwise known as Peter Kelly, is slaving away, finessing the details for the social side of the conference. A flamboyant wedding and events planner who models himself on the US style of function organiser, he says about half his business comes from corporate shindigs such as this one. Back in the early 1980s, when Centra, part of the Cork-based Musgrave Group, was founded, such extravagant hooleys were unthinkable. Fifteen years ago, when the conferences began, the corporate get- togethers amounted to a half-day in Blarney, with a few sandwiches for the shopkeepers if they were lucky. But in the past decade it has became a two-day event, topped off with a dinner dance - and since Franc was given the job of dreaming up the event, the conference has culminated in a themed extravaganza with no expense spared.
Centra franchisees, who come from all over the Republic, are put up in the hotel with their partners for two nights. Hampers of fruit, chocolates and drinks are in their rooms when they arrive. After a packed conference schedule, they unwind at the themed evening, which features an Oscars-style awards ceremony, with gongs for best shop and best customer relations. After footing the bill for the weekend, which includes two dinners and a lunch for the 450 delegates, Musgrave won't have much change from €200,000.
"People expect more these days," says Franc on Saturday morning, as he makes a brief sketch of how the centre's main hall will look after he has weaved his designer magic. "They have travelled more, seen more and so their expectations are greater. We need to keep surprising them."
From Centra's perspective this is a payback for their franchisees' work during the year, so the chain wants to pull out all the stops. Therese McCarthy of Centra says this style of annual conference - SuperValu, another Musgrave brand, has a similarly spectacular annual knees-up - is merely one side effect of the Celtic Tiger economy. "We want to say thank you to the people who are building the brand across the country," she says.
Meeting the growing expectations of delegates has meant that in the past few years the dull conference centre, with its PowerPoint presentations, rows of tables and mountains of statistical material, has been made obsolete. Recent themes have included the Rat Pack, fire and ice, Mardi Gras and Vikings. One year the theme was pink, for which the place was stuffed with flamingos, ballerinas and pink champagne. On a World Cup Japan night Packie Bonner, the guest of honour, arrived on a rickshaw.
Lately, the guest of honour has been another part of the intrigue surrounding the conference. RTÉ names such as Derek Mooney, Des Cahill and Derek Davis have all earned rather more than pocket money by presenting the awards ceremony. This year, for the first time, the presenter is a woman. The organisers try to keep it quiet before she arrives; only a select few know that Gráinne Seoige, the Sky News presenter, has already checked into a luxurious suite at the nearby Aghadoe Heights Hotel.
Franc's team has been on site since the day before the dinner. His wife, Eadaoin - the couple have three children, with another on the way - has designed the towering table arrangements. "She is my rock," he says. "She is direct and straight, and you need that in this business." Eadaoin smiles. "I like to stay behind the scenes," she says. "I'm very happy to leave the more upfront stuff to Peter."
Anne Marie, who used to work with The Corrs, is in charge of production. She is almost surgically attached to her mobile phone, arranging details such as the arrival by train of the snakes. "That's great," she says, ending a call. "Now the snakes can travel back to Dublin with the camels."
Her colleagues Carmel and Niall run around, doing everything from tying plants with gold wire to erecting canopies. Ask Bertie, a rangy laugh-a-minute member of the team, about his role and he says: "I'm the personality." On Friday they work until almost midnight and are back in the morning, wearing Events by Franc T-shirts, to start again.
"Some people don't have any idea of the work that goes into these events," says Franc the next day as he waits for the hot-food cabinets and drink displays to be moved. They have just two hours to transform the conference centre. "Then there are others who are really impressed with the tiniest details. It's like theatre."
Some people are so impressed that they try to take home a souvenir of the night. A tired and emotional woman was once found trying to fit a giant candelabra into the boot of a car. But the highly visible security guards who patrol the events tend to dissuade the more ardent souvenir hunters.
By 7pm Tutankhamen would feel at home. An emperor - it is that guy from Bosco - is feeding grapes to Cleopatra. Delegates are patting camels and stroking snakes. Under a canopy a veiled woman with an odd accent reads palms with the help of pyramid crystals. Dozens of night lights line the walkway to the dining hall, where green goddess plants stand tall on 450 tables. And then, when everyone is seated, Seoige arrives, dressed in a stunning white ensemble, and presents the awards with somewhat bemused aplomb. Satisfied that it's all going smoothly, Kelly's thoughts are already turning to next year's event. "We'll go away and dream it all up again," he says.
Brides of Franc, a two-part series about Peter Kelly's wedding-planning business, starts on RTÉ 2 on Thursday