Now it goes without saying that Mortimer’s tweet was epically misjudged on a number of levels. There was that cringeworthy diction and phrasing – which referred to one of our most internationally respected and successful riders as a ‘tryout GB athlete’ – for a start.

Secondly, it also betrayed zero understanding of Jamie’s character, as many people rushed to point out. Let’s remember that Jamie Nicholls is one of the UK’s most loved and respected snowboarders. He’s been in the limelight since he was a young boy, and everybody is justly proud of the way he’s risen to the top of the sport while remaining the same open, friendly kid.

No wonder his supporters are protective of him. Particularly when his Performance Director, a man you would expect to get this, seems to completely misunderstand the character and standing of his athlete – surely a far greater and potentially more damaging oversight than Jamie’s fairly innocuous tweet.

Thirdly, Paddy Mortimer could not have pushed the buttons of a suspicious snowboarding community, who’ve spent the last 15 years being damagingly misunderstood by people with zero understanding of the sport, any more effectively if he’d tried.

Given Mortimer’s background in rugby and football, a slight culture clash is perhaps forgivable. But again, you would expect a presumably well-paid Performance Director of the British Snow Sports Association to have at least some kind of understanding of the long-term issues here. It’s not like it hasn’t been well-documented, or he isn’t working with people that have an intimate knowledge of the situation. Try asking – I don’t know – Lesley McKenna maybe? If anything, it makes you fear for the effectiveness of the BSS as an organisation as whole. These are the people in charge of helping Jamie, Billy and the others get to the Olympics?

So the vociferous reaction of the snowboarding community was understandable. But for me the most interesting thing about the whole storm-in-a-Twit-cup was the point Mortimer was obviously trying to make about the standards of professionalism expected by a ‘GB funded’ snowboarder.

Because that’s the reality of the snowboarding and professional sporting world that Jamie Nicholls (and peers such as Billy Morgan and Jenny Jones) now finds himself in. If Jamie wants to go to the Olympics, he’s going to come across a lot of people like Paddy Mortimer in the next year. And it’s quite likely he’ll face way harsher criticism than Paddy’s ill-advised tweet.

In that light, wouldn’t it make more sense to actually try and understand what Paddy Mortimer is actually on about? Not least for Jamie’s benefit? I think it would.

So I contacted Paddy Mortimer for a chat about the whole thing. Here’s what he had to say.

Were you surprised at the reaction your Tweet caused?
Yes I was.

Do you have any idea why people reacted so badly?
Well, yes. I do now, especially after speaking to Lesley McKenna and Colin Holden (BSS British Snowboard Director). I mean, I want to try and understand snowboarding, but clearly I got it very wrong in this case. I come from team sports, and obviously there are big cultural differences here. That’s why the BSS have brought me in as Performance Director in a way, because I wouldn’t come with previous baggage. And I have championed and been single-minded about championing snowboarding and freestyle skiing at the highest levels of UK Sport ever since.

Do you accept it was misjudged to communicate in this way?
Yes. I would agree that my actions were misjudged. That’s painfully obvious. I won’t be doing it again. I’m willing to admit my mistakes. After all, I’m asking athletes to admit mistakes so they can move forward and learn lessons. If I can’t do that as Performance Director, then how can I ask them to?

Can you explain the point you were trying to make?
Simply this – we have worked very hard – well, people like Hamish (McKnight, UK snowboarding coach), Lesley and Pat Sharples (UK ski coach) and all the athletes – have worked hard for a number of years to get to this position and to get this level of public funding. And I know the corporate nature of funding agencies, and I know they do not enjoy language like that. Personally, I can’t use language like this publicly because of the position I’m in. In a way, I act as the intermediary between the corporate world and the freesports world. That is a very difficult line to tread. I’m not perfect at it.

I think language like ‘the corporate nature of funding agencies’ is the kind of thing that gets snowboarders’ backs up. Who are these ‘funding agencies’, and why do wield such power?
They’re the people that pay their taxes. The middle classes, and they’re not comfortable with this unfortunately. UK sport money comes from the government, and that money comes from people paying their taxes. And once you’re awarded that money, you’re in the public eye. The Daily Mail, for example, will get hold of a story like this and write ‘We’re funding people like this to have a good lifestyle in the mountains’. They will pick up on this. It happens in all sports. And I don’t want us to be subjected to that. I mean, I get that snowboarding is different from other sports on a fundamental level. But unfortunately that’s not the way the mainstream sees it just yet. And we have to be aware of that.

Yet Jamie would seem to be the perfect role model. As Whitelines put it, ‘ If Jamie Nicholls isn’t squeaky clean enough for official-dom, then who the hell is?’
Yeah he’s a lovely young man. I can see he’s an absolute role model. But if that feed got into the wrong hands, then he’ll be portrayed as an oik. The mainstream media don’t deal in nuances. They deal in broad strokes. I know what this can do.
Like I say, I know there are people who think this has nothing to do with snowboarding and that we should walk away, but the fact is that there are some people that do want to compete, who want to go the Olympics. Like Jamie and Billy. There should be room for both sets of people in my view.
The other point is that, the more positively we represent this to the public, the more funding we can get. And that means more funding at a grass-roots level. More skateparks. More kids being encouraged by their parents to do these sports. That means kids off the streets. It’s all positive. You know, I’ve got two kids under ten. They don’t play football or rugby. They scoot. They skate. And there currently aren’t many facilities for them to do that safely.

So what do you have to deliver to get this funding? And how much have we been awarded?
Like I say, we’re under scrutiny here. We’ve been given £300,000, and there are certain things they’ll look for after Sochi when they come to decide how much money we get in the future. Most of the time, it is simple – did you win a medal? But in our case, we’re actually being judged on slightly different criteria. Have we got a good performance structure in place? Did we spend the cash well to help the athletes? And – this is the key – did we improve the skill level? Because we’ve made the case that judging us on medals won’t work for action sports. We need to take the time to support the riders to get them in a position where they can challenge, first and foremost. And then if we get into the finals – and, fingers crossed, even win something – our funding could double or treble for 2018. At the moment, bobsleigh get £2 or £3 million, and I’d rather that money went to our sports.

A lot of people made the point that Jamie’s progress to this point has little to do with BSS and everything to do with his long term commercial sponsors such as Nike and Red Bull. So if anything, he is answerable to them. Presumably that is a similar for all GB athletes. How do you try and balance these potentially conflicting responsibilities, especially in a sport like snowboarding, where there are two very different agendas at work?
Well, all athletes sign a UK Sport agreement when they accept the money, and part of that agreement is that they act in a very professional manner. These guidelines include social media, and part of that is that use of liberal language is frowned upon. I take your point about Jamie, but there are plenty of example of other riders who haven’t had anywhere near the level of commercial support that he has. Billy Morgan, for one. I think the public money Billy is receiving will help him to continue. Katie Summerhayes is another. I know from speaking to them and their parents that it’s difficult to find the money. So the money we can give Billy helps take the sting out of it a bit. And that should enable Billy to get more commercial opportunities, and then hopefully it starts to escalate. And we can help them in other ways as well, with media opportunities, which is also working. Billy and Jamie have been interviewed on 5 Live, they’re on the BBC Sport website. It’s starting to encroach upon the mainstream.

What’s the role of a Performance Director? How will you help Jamie, Billy and the others achieve their goals?
My primary role is to support Hamish support the riders in the best way he can. I need to make sure all the services we can provide for each individual are appropriate. And I have to find funding. And I have to be answerable for the results we get to the people that provide the funding. Overall though, I try to the guys that know best -Lesley McKenna and Hamish McKnight – run with it. The culture has been successful so far, so why change it. I try and listen basically.

What’s your background? What do you bring to this role? How will it help someone like Jamie?
I spent twenty years in high performance sports – by which I mean the top level of sport. So I can make people aware of what other sports have done at the very top level, and how that might work of us.
But today high performance basically means the Olympics. This summer really nailed that to the mast. That is the key indicator at the top level of sport funding. Those are the goals posts I’ve been given, and that’s basically what we’re working on now.

Run by a tight group of friends, Finisterre are the real deal: passionate surfers, open water swimmers and marathon runners who try to infuse their passions into every item they produce. Take their eccentric, principled decision to acquire and keep their own flock of local Bowmont sheep so they could use the wool for their own products, rather than import merino wool from the other side of the globe.



It’s an approach that has won them hearts, minds and some fiercely loyal customers in the surfing and outdoor community, who recognise and respond to the passion they see in the brand. I was lucky enough to spend some time with Tom (far left), Ernie (far right), Gregor and the gang down at the Finisterre workshop last year, and can confirm that what you see with these guys is what you get.

All of which has made their latest print ad campaign, The Task (at the top of the page) all the more intriguing. Tipping a hat to Apple’s legendary 1980s ‘Welcome, IBM. Seriously‘ ad (and, going back even further, David Ogilvy’s series of Ogilvy & Mather house ads from the 1960s and 1970s), Finisterre’s ad is a direct challenge to the Big 4 surf brands – Quiksilver, O’Neill, Rip Curl and Billabong – for their predominantly warm water strategy: something Finisterre reckon ‘isn’t geared towards designing products around what the cold water surfer actually needs’.

What do you think? Risky marketing strategy or much needed shake up of the surf status quo?

One consolation: at least snowboarding isn’t surfing. The wave-riding industry’s list of bad news following the credit crunch goes ever on, with signs that fewer people are buying into the beach lifestyle. And those who do now have the option of walking into ‘genuine’ surf industry stores such as Rip Curl, Quiksilver, O’Neill and Billabong – brands who’ve used private equity cash to buy independent stores in order to increase their margins – or of turning on their heels and entering a shop such as White Stuff, Fat Face, Jack Wills or the Abercrombie and Fitch-backed Hollister, whose (ahem) ‘genuine SoCal’ clothes are sold using surfing’s imagery, history and soul, but don’t spend any marketing dollars on athletes or contests.

It puts the core surf brands in a tricky position. If their move to the high-street is going to pay off, they’ll need people who been there and sold the t-shirt. Little wonder that Billabong recently replaced its long-time surfer CEO Derek O’Neill with Laura Inman from the budget clothing giant Target. Who cares if she can duckdive or not? It’s whether she can out-wit the other retailers that matters.

And then there’s the fact that the surf media is going through a bone fide revolution. While Twitter and Facebook were hailed as saviours – catalysts even – for the Arab Spring, surf-company CEOs probably aren’t as enamored. For the past few years, an anti-surf-contest and anti-surf-industry movement has been growing online. What’s their beef? The bloggers, tweeters and trolls might not agree on all things, but the fact that there’s a finite amount of waves being increasingly fought for by a lot of surfers seems to be at the heart of the problem. And those online point out the paradox the surf industry faces: keep pushing for growth, and the waters can only get busier.

Which in turn demands the obvious question: just who is the surf industry catering for? Pro surfers yes. The surf industry insiders? For sure. But actual surfers? For every innovation in wetsuit technology a surf brand can claim, there’s a bus-full of newbies being ushered towards an already crowded beach that is increasingly difficult to justify to existing but frustrated customers.

The contest scene is in a similarly precarious state. As the recent Volcom Pro in Fiji showed, most viewers would undoubtedly prefer to watch free-surfers taking on the best waves of the day than to see surfing in its current time-restricted contest mode. Since Rabbit, the Bronzed Aussies and Shaun Thomson willed a world tour into existence (against the wishes of many at the time it must be said), the question of how to present surfing as a credible, competitive format has been long debated. There’s undoubtedly an audience for great surf imagery, but whether those moments can ever be captured by a World Cup Tour, or a one-off event  – even one with a two-week waiting period – is a different question altogether.

So where’s the punchline to all this? Where will future action sports sales come from? It’s a genuinely hard question to answer. Will it be China, who according to the BBC sees three million new snowsports fans join the slopes each year? That’s a huge figure – especially “considering that fifteen years ago there was no Alpine winter sport at all in China,” says Ski Sunday presenter Ed Leigh.

Similar numbers of Chinese are getting into surfing too; witness the purpose built surf resort of Hainan Island having already hosted a women’s Association of Surfing Professionals surfing tour event. “China is a powerful athletic country,” reasoned former ASP CEO Brodie Carr. “A vast country and marketplace with a potential billion-strong audience for us.”

But with many economists predicting that China’s economy will suffer from a ‘hard landing’ sometime in 2012, – that’s to say it’ll join the rest of the world’s recession – there’s no guarantee that dizzying figure will continue. Or whether there won’t be a Chinese Volcom or Brixton copycat brand waiting in the wings with cheaper equipment that borrows heavily on the original; a problem Nike have already encountered, complete with copycat stores and ultra-similar product lines.

Maybe the Olympics will keep action sports growth up? Snowboarding’s jump from a niche sport to a mainstream hobby was undoubtedly aided by the Olympic audience figures, but as my colleague Matt Barr has been pointing out on his Transworld blog: it’s come at quite a price. With skateboarding and surfing being looked over by the IOC, whose to say that those sports won’t be dragged down the same path?

Perhaps growth will come from the fact that all those kids with mini-scooters might upgrade to a plastic skateboard? Certainly sales of the re-branded pop-out board suggest so, with Penny Skateboards, Globe’s Bantam and Brighton Skateboards being the trend-setter’s must have play thing to hang next to the fixed-gear bike.

Or perhaps an unforeseen Hollywood moment, such as Michael J Fox’s car-chasing antics in Back To The Future will turn non-board riders onto the possibilities of standing sideways? It worked in the 1985, but are there really people on the planet who don’t know about skateboarding anymore?

Or maybe growth is gonna be really, really tough to find?

One lump of good news on the horizon: Quiksilver just posted losses of $5-million for the second quarter of 2012, and since they lost more than $90-million in the same period in 2011, at least the slowdown is – you know – slowing down.

One thing is for sure: in terms of growth, the horizon is looking pretty flat right now. So where’s the next swell coming from?

Rice’s latest venture is the Red Bull Supernatural event, held this past weekend at Baldface Lodge in Nelson, BC. Rice and his crew picked one steep slope, constructed 80 obstacles on there and invited 18 of the world’s best riders along to session the course in an attempt to find ‘the best all round snowboarder’ as he put it in the official Red Bull press spiel. Those 18 riders include the world’s true heavy hitters, including backcountry purists such as Terje, Nicolas Muller and John Jackson. Check em out.



The idea was to get the riders there for a week-long holding period, wait for the best weather and hold the contest on one day, so really it borrowed heavily from surfing events such as the Eddie Aikau. True, there are some parts of the concept you could criticise – namely building obstacles on a natural run – but you have to say it’s refreshing to see one of snowboarding’s top pros step up and try and bring things forward with a new way of thinking about contests.

We’ve been heavily involved in the debate about the future of snowboarding contests here at ACM, through our regular Shaking Hands With the Devil blog and a recent article for TransWorld Business on the subject. In that last piece, we mentioned a crucial element necessary if snowboarding contests are to make a leap to mainstream on their own terms: a concept the mainstream can easily understand. Whether it turns out this way with Supernatural remains to be seen, but in putting together a course that the riders relate to (and then by inking a deal to show the whole thing on NBC), Rice is at least attempting to deal with those issues on snowboarding’s own terms.

One of the other whole questions this tedious Olympic debate has thrown up has been a simple one: where are the leaders of our sport, the ones that should be taking responsibility and representing snowboarding in the right way? Looks like Travis has stepped right up with this latest venture. Can’t wait to see the footage and imagery. Knowing Rice, he’ll probably win the thing as well.

I heard an interesting conversation with a friend recently that got me thinking. We were talking about a well-known up-and-coming ripper (OK, it was Jamie Nicholls) who’d just won a big inner city rail contest. Looking at the coverage, he’d been killing it all day and had deservedly taken home the pay cheque and the kudos that goes with the biggest, most high-profile win of his fledgling career.

You’d think it was all good, but my friend saw things differently. The problem? The fact that he’d been wearing a helmet during the contest. For this skeptical onlooker, this wasn’t on at all.

“He’s wearing a helmet while riding rails! The other guys aren’t wearing helmet. Skaters don’t wear helmets when they’re hitting handrails. Why the hell is a snowboarder?”

At the time it was just a boozy argument about the usual snowboarding rubbish. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that, in today’s current snowboarding climate, it’s a debate that throws up any number of talking points.

The first one can be summed up in two words: Kevin Pearce. I wonder what he’d think about somebody suggesting that anybody wearing a helmet in a competition was less credible, core or deserving of victory? I’d sure be interested to know. At the time of writing, Sarah Burke has just died from traumatic head injuries, despite the fact that she was wearing a helmet. In light of these two incidents, are we really going to start telling pro kids they can’t wear helmets because it essentially means they’re less cool than skateboarders? To some, it would appear so.

The other thing that springs to mind is the fact that, for most kids these days, riding while wearing a helmet is actually pretty normal. For them, the idea that wearing a helmet might be in any way uncool or not core went out of fashion with the step-in binding*. Personally, there are plenty of things I find completely weird about snowboarding these days, from that frankly bizarre tall T trend from the other year to the fact that Nike make snowboarding boots that I am actually considering wearing one of these days.

But that’s what happens and how it has been since the dawn of time. Things evolve. Change occurs. To paraphrase the great Douglas Adams, if you’re under twenty, any new development like this is completely normal. If you’re in your twenties, it’s vaguely strange but pretty cool and with any luck you might be able to make a career out of it. If you’re over thirty, it’s nothing more than evil proof that things aren’t as good as they were back in your day and that modern life is total, utter rubbish. As Adams put it, ‘Apply this to movies, rock music, word processors and mobile phones to work out how old you are’.

All that aside, what is really interesting about this story to me is what it reveals about attitudes at the core end of snowboarding. Which is that even now, in 2012, some snowboarders STILL have an inferiority complex when it comes to skateboarding.

I mean, maybe it’s just me, but if you were going to pick out one fundamental difference between skateboarders hitting handrails and snowboarders hitting handrails, it wouldn’t be the fact that this one snowboarder wore a helmet at a rail contest one time. You’d probably pick the rather more glaringly obvious difference: that a snowboard is stuck to a rider’s feet, while a skateboard isn’t.

Or you could pick another random difference. Like the fact that skateboarders don’t tend to build little snow ramps or use weird pulley systems in order to get onto rails in the first place. Whereas at most inner city rail comps and in plenty of videos, snowboarders do exactly that.

The point is that short of hitting handrails with a noboard or a snow skate, there’s not really any way around the fact that snowboarding is basically easier than skateboarding. It’s one reason why skateboarders think snowboarding is a bit of a joke. No amount of telling an eighteen year-old kid who’s just flung himself down a flight of stairs for a crowd’s enjoyment that helmets are wack is going to change that.

JED ANDERSON FULL PART: Throwaway Footy from VIDEOGRASS on Vimeo.

Personally, I’m thinking it’s about time we accepted (maybe even celebrated) the fact that snowboarding – whether hitting a rail or riding a half pipe – is fundamentally different to skateboarding. And that there might even be certain advantages to this state of affairs. After all, having the thing attached to your feet (or maybe even wearing a helmet) means the sport can progress in weird and wonderful ways that skateboarding can’t match. Check out Jed Anderson, above. Here’s a kid who can skate, is absolutely killing rails on a snowboard – and he’s wearing a helmet. Guess he didn’t get the memo either.

Having the thing attached to your feet also means snowboarders can experience certain fundamental board-riding pleasures our skate cousins will never get to experience. Like what? Er, like the powder turn. How about that one? So which is better now?

Frothing in St. Anton from METHOD on Vimeo.

Sure, maybe you personally think that in the wider standing sideways scheme of things, skateboarding is always going to be fundamentally gnarlier and more credible. You might even be right. But that’s OK. After all, as a certain group of pro riders have been saying a lot recently, we are snowboarding. We’re different to those other guys.

Shouldn’t we just accept that and get on with it?

*For any kids scratching their head at the phrase ‘step-in binding’, yes brands like Burton did try to market them. Certain top pros even wore them. Even on handrails.

Our guest blogger Hamish Duncan (@hambourine) ponders what the relentless march of snowboarding progression means to the public looking in, and whether it is at the expense of personal style and expression

This year’s Freeze was yet more proof that snowboarding has come a long, long way since the first ever London big air extravaganza in 1995. Back then, the likes of David Vincent and Jamie Lynn put down frontside 5s to a bemused Covent Garden crowd. Today, everything about snowboarding has advanced, with the technicality of the tricks, the overall presentation of the competition, prize money and sheer number of spectators testament to the strides in popularity snowboarding has made in just fifteen short years.

Even practise showcased just how big the level is these days, with most most riders locking straight into 9s before upping it with 10s, 12s and the-now standard double corks.

As an ex-rider, trick development is moving at a ruthless pace. One year you’re seeing double corks, the next it may be triple. But how sustainable is all this? Will we soon start to see quadruple corks? And what does mean for a key component of snowboarding personality: style, grace and personal expression?

To the untrained eye, represented by the vast public crowds watching the event, it must all be very confusing: a lot of spinning and people going upside down with a twist.  But the question that keeps recurring in my mind is this: what are they taking away with them? What does snowboarding mean to them, and what are we doing to ensure they get the best representation?

At this point, it’s good to remember another side of snowboarding and what got you stoked on riding in the first place. Everybody remembers his or her first snowboard video. That whirring black screen, the tinny audio as the opener showcasing all the bangers kicks in. Your favourite section that you anticipate even before it begins. A certain trick that gives you goose bumps for the sheer style and glory of its execution. Maybe I’m going too far. But there was something you took away that meant more than a prize cheque, more than just a medal.

This is a time when our sport is entering a new era. Snowboarding version 2.0. Or maybe it’s already Snowboarding 3.0. But to my mind, we still haven’t defined what the legacy of our sport to the outside world will really be, and what spectators at the likes of Freeze will take away with them. Are we a sport based on the advancement of tricks to stratospheric levels? Are we creating performance machines based upon a narrow-minded judging system? But more importantly, why are we unique from other sports?

Maybe one day we’ll see the inclusion of a style statement heat, giving the riders a chance to showcase a trick under a 540º rotation that says everything about your character. A super-sized no-grab backside 1 or a floated switch backside 5, tweaked to within an inch of it’s life. Something that sums up what snowboarding is in a competitive environment. Perhaps we have to lose our identity to remember exactly what we need to showcase. The glory, magnificence and great beauty of what snowboarding can be.

Thanks to @Scott_McMorris for inspiring this post with a conversation we had at Freeze.

Early attempts were simple, beautiful poster images, that are still highly prized.

The recipe seemed too easy to mess up: get a creative agency in to use their best artists and typesetters to do the job properly. Though, in fairness, some didn’t work as well for the English market. Ahem.

Film was a natural medium for tourist boards, and while early attempts in the 1950s were pretty crude, their general premise was right: show the place, meet the people, and highlight the beautiful countryside, as this short Pathe film on Wales demonstrates – although the line about the people being “obstinately Welsh” could have been dropped.

Then came the brochure, with lovely big pictures, full of groups of people WHO LOOK LIKE YOU having a right old time.

It’s at this point of course that something went wrong. Because as tourism grew and the budgets expanded, the creativity went out of the window. In place of cool images and artists impressions we got cheesy photos and corporate videos. Maybe it was the middle management, or the fact that campaigns got designed by committee. Either way, by the turn of the millennium, this became the default setting for all tourism output:

Don’t get me wrong, I love Portugal. But this short film makes it look about as exciting as a mortgage conference. The corporate video formula is all there. Enya soundtrack? Check. Slow-mo heli shots? Check. Have we got the cheapo voice-over man’s mic on full reverb? Check.

And who wrote the script? “There is a country of friendly, inhospitable people. A country of contrasts” (at 0:18) – Friendly AND INHOSPITABLE”? Really?  Could this whole approach just be lazy thinking, thinking a quick overdub or dodgy translation makes a film clearly designed for the Euro market acceptable for the English-speaking market? After all, even the biggest companies are guilty of that, as this recent Fernando Alonso Fiat 500 farrago ad demonstrates.

*Sigh* But there is hope. By going back to using small, creative agencies, some forward-thinking tourist boards have once again used the destination’s best assets – the scenery, the people, the experiences – in a credible, creative way. Like who? We blogged recently about the brilliant Visit Iceland film and the successful Eat, Move and Learn virals, but here are a couple more that we like.

First up is Visit Finland, whose new film showcases the Northern Lights using a simple – but hugely effective – timelapse.

And while we’re on the subject of timelapses, doesn’t this incredible film from Tenerife just make you wanna hop on a plane there?

And props must be given to the low-budget film We Love Bikes made by Danish tourist office Wonderful Copenhagen

The advantages of letting an agency come in should be obvious: outsiders can see your best assets, they can take a brief and add a creative edge, and they can talk directly to certain markets in a way that might be otherwise impossible (or hit and miss at best). Do it right and you’ve got a potentially viral film on your hands, with millions clicking to see your destination as the Iceland and Eat, Move, Learn films prove.

Do it wrong, and you might make it onto the dreaded Titanic Travel Awards website, which celebrates the worst of all online travel sites.

Or – even worse – your film could end up in the next  International Committee of Tourist Film Festivals  “Grand Prix” award, as Segovia Tourism’s high-budget, Enya-soundtracked winner from last year proves. It’s had 45 views since.

Segovia Tourism – Everything for All from David C. Cooper on Vimeo.