On a Saturday morning in August, two coaches pulled up outside our gate and filled with people who, for once, had nothing on their schedule. Somebody had brought a speaker. Somebody else had brought far too much fruit. By nine the car park was empty and the building was quiet.

Once a year the company closes for a day and takes everyone out. This year people were given a choice rather than a destination: two routes, two ways to spend a Guangdong summer day, and everyone picked their own.

That detail matters more than it sounds. A trip that everyone is sent on is a company event. A trip people choose is a day off.

Two hours on a coach with the people you normally only nod to is its own kind of introduction. Somebody produced a playlist from 2009 and defended it for the entire journey. Somebody else produced a bag of dried plums that went round twice. By the time the coaches reached the car park, three separate groups had already agreed to meet for dinner the following month, and one of them actually did.

Snow in August, and Water Next Door

One coach went to an indoor ski slope. Seventy-five thousand square metres of snow under a roof, cold enough that the rental jackets earned their keep within minutes. Half the group had never touched snow before, and the first ten minutes went on photographing their own boots.

There were ice bumper cars, a beginner slope that looked gentle from the bottom, and a longer run that produced a steady supply of stories for the journey home. The people who had skied before disappeared uphill and were not seen again for two hours.

The other coach went to an indoor water park, where the water is heated and the weather cannot interfere with the plan. That group spent the day in the water and came back with the particular tiredness that only swimming produces. Several people reported that the wave pool was the highlight of their whole summer.

Sixty Minutes Under the Big Top

By late afternoon both groups had drifted to the same theatre for a circus show. Acrobatics, magic, and a spinning wheel that looked considerably more dangerous than it needed to be. The applause at the end was loud in the way that only a tired and happy crowd is loud.

Nobody had anywhere else to be all day. That was more or less the point.

The People in These Photographs

There is a temptation to write a paragraph here about how a team that enjoys each other’s company works better together. It is probably true, and it is also the sort of thing every company writes. What actually happened is easier to describe.

A few hundred people who see each other every day got to see each other somewhere else. The quiet one from the second floor turned out to be very funny. The person who is always first through the door in the morning was, it turns out, frightened of the water. Somebody who has never once raised their voice in a meeting won an argument about the correct way to hold a snow tube.

Those small discoveries are hard to make in an ordinary week. They are also why the mood in the canteen on Monday was a little warmer than usual.

By Sunday evening the group chat had collected several hundred photographs, almost all of them taken by people who would never call themselves photographers. A surprising number were of the same three colleagues making the same face on the same ride. Nobody has yet admitted to starting the album.

Why We Do This Every Year

A day out is not a benefit in the usual sense. Count the planning and it costs two days, and nobody comes home with a certificate. What it does is remind everyone that the person in the next chair has a whole life that has nothing to do with this building.

Thank You

The coaches were back before midnight. To everyone who came, and especially to the small group who spent weeks on buses, food and a route that would keep a few hundred people happy for a day: thank you. It is more work than it looks, and it was noticed.

They started planning in June. Two routes were negotiated, coaches were booked, dietary requirements were counted twice, and a banner was printed that nobody was entirely sure would fit. On the day itself they spent more time counting heads than enjoying the rides, which tends to be the fate of anyone who volunteers for this kind of thing.

It is worth saying plainly. A company is not a logo, or a website, or a building. It is the people who turn up. We are lucky with ours. You can read a little more about who we are on our company profile page.