Joe asks 'Is it me or what?'

Web 2.0?

I have a combined Barclaycard and Oyster, not that I use it as a credit card often, but you got £25 of free travel if you applied for it and it’s handy in emergencies, you can also use it to make small payments by swiping it over the reader in some shops.

The credit card was due to expire and when I got the new one it had a different Oyster card number on it, this meant I had to register it online so I can manage the season ticket easily. I duly went to the site and tried to register it – and failed, I just couldn’t work out how to do it, it wouldn’t recognise my new number as being valid. So I fell back on the telephone support line. After a long hold I eventually got through and explained my predicament. Ah, they replied, you need to go to an underground station first and fill in a form, then the form gets sent to us, we then put your card on our system and then you’ll be able to register it on the web site.

Can’t I do that first bit over the phone now? I asked, Oh no, we need that form first. I tried to elicit what was on that form that was so important but, of course, they had no idea, that’s just the way we do it.

Taxi!

It looks like there will be a tube strike in London on 7 September. I’m not going to harp on about the rights and wrongs of it but anyone who thinks they should have a guaranteed job for life in this day and age is sorely misguided.

What amused me was the report in the Evening Standard which claimed that those affected would be people coming back to work after a summer break and MPs returning after their summer recess. After all we all know how keen MPs are on using public transport, just recall the furore when they found they would have to pay for relatives who wanted to travel first class on the trains, never mind squashing into a crowded carriage with the hoi polloi. What I think the Standard had in mind was that they’ll have difficulties getting their normal taxis given that many others will have no choice but to use them.

Lesson Learned

The tube system in London seems to get more and more crowded, heaven only knows how it will cope when we host the Olympics in 2012.

Last night I got on the Jubilee line at London Bridge around 17:30 and it was the usual tight squeeze, to make matters worse I had my weekly food shop, two carrier bags worth. It was standing room only and I was squashed in the corridor between the two rows of seats.

A few stops later a seat became available, I was about to sit down when a man next to me asked if he could take it – perhaps he needed it more than me, anyway I moved my two bags, flattened myself against the other side and let him get through, I only had three stops to travel.

He was the sort of person that appears to think the objective of sitting is to make as many people bounce as possible, no muscle control. Reminds me of my daughter’s technique on the sofa at home.

Less than one minute later he got up to leave the carriage…

I must have sighed rather loudly because he started questioning me, what’s the matter? As I again moved my bags and made room for him to get by I asked him whether it was really worth all the hassle just so he could sit down for such a short time. He got most upset and, when he was well out of my reach, he shouted back down the carriage, You’re an idiot! Yes, I thought, you’re dead right.

Fun at the Airport

My recent trip to Poland involved flying from Luton (or London – Luton as the airlines call it, who are they kidding?) to Gdansk.

Air travel is so frustrating, even when you check-in online there are still plenty of queues, questions and security checks to negotiate. To be fair we travelled with Wizz Air and at least checking in didn’t involve dozens of questions that I’d already answered online, unlike most airlines. Possibly the most annoying thing at the moment is the policy on liquids. It’s amazing how a failed attempt at a bombing, it didn’t even reach the airport, has made it such hard work, especially if you just have carry on luggage.

The ‘fun’ started at Luton when I had to buy a clear plastic bag to put my terrorist kit, shampoo and deodorant, in – only £1 for four bags and ten minutes spent trying to open the case they came in. One broken nail and a lot of choice language later everyone had their dangerous items bagged. The main worry though, or to be more the main worrier, was one of my travelling companions who shall remain nameless (okay, her name’s Jane). She’s already left her phone at the check-in desk and had to be called back and then ‘lost’ her passport as ‘I never put it in that pocket’. The current item of concern was the suicide bomber’s favourite, a prawn cocktail that she’s bought earlier and wanted to take through to eat later. Did it count as liquid, would it get through the stringent security?

Needless to say after going through security Jane was asked to open her bag for a detailed inspection and it seemed that her fears were confirmed, no prawn cocktail for tea. However the guard rummaged in the bag and calmly placed the snack to one side, apparently it wasn’t an issue. He then produced an implement that looked like it might have been Edward Scissorhand’s spare wrist attachment, an array of knives, bodgers and a corkscrew. Oh, said Jane, I’d forgotten about my multi-tool…

After the fuss we moved through to the bar and awaited the flight, only one more twenty minute queue at the departure gate and we were on our way.

The return experience was not quite as bad, my souvenir snow globe got mixed looks from the security staff, not sure if it was on the grounds of a possible threat or simply those of taste, at least the guard in question was a smiling lady rather than the usual lot you get in England who have affability and personality of a robot.

And it was at this point that Jane decided that she wasn’t going to eat that prawn cocktail after all, so it had journeyed from Suffolk to Gdansk via Luton and spent five happy days in the beautiful forest near Kościerzyny before being cast aside at Gdansk airport.

The final annoyance was queuing at Luton’s passport control. I don’t mind a short wait but it is galling that passengers from outside the EU shot through while us Brits had to wait in line. Whoever wrote about travelling hopefully being better than arriving must have lived well before air travel came on the scene.

Confused?

I wrote recently about confusing English, I’ve had two more experiences recently. An announcement by our tube driver made everyone look up from their newspapers, the train had been in a tunnel for some minutes when he stated that he was sorry for the delay and awaiting a proceed aspect. Must remember that the next time I’m stuck at a red light.

A day or so earlier, awaiting a Great Western train, there was an announcement over the speaker system by the automated voice:

I am sorry to announce that the 13:04 to Paddington is delayed

and the notice board duly showed it as delayed. As I’m in rant mode I may as well state that robots stating they are sorry really annoys me, an inanimate thing can’t apologise, it should state that First Great Western is sorry or some such but I suppose that would mean someone taking responsibility for the delay and we can’t have that can we? - passengers may be able to claim recompense. Anyway, back to the main story. Shorty after the notice boards changed to show the delay another announcement was made, this time by a member of staff:

Please ignore the announcement about the delayed 13:04, it’s not delayed. There’s a problem with the notice boards showing trains delayed that aren’t.

Still on the platform the time passed and by 13:08 the train still had not appeared. People started asking the staff what was happening, was the train delayed or not. The reply was intriguing:

The 13:04 is not delayed, it’s just a little late.

So there you are who knows? - the driver may have been awaiting a proceed aspect.

Shoot Those Elves

Once again a tube line, this time the Bakerloo, comes to a grinding halt because of a passenger ill on a train.

A few years ago someone ill would have been escorted off the train and seated whilst awaiting a medical team. Now, thanks to the proverbial 'elf and safety, the procedure is to leave them in the carriage until help arrives, this is even when the passenger has simply complained of feeling faint and is perfectly capable of leaving the train. Sometimes, in serious situations, it may be right to leave them in situ but, of course, staff haven’t had medical training so they can’t be expected to know the difference between a seriously ill prostrate case and walking wounded.

I’d be horrified that me being unwell caused problems for so many people therefore I hereby state that, if I’m taken ill on a tube, you have my authority to move me so the service can keep moving, rather than hold up hundreds of people for an hour.

First Great Wasters

First Great Western railway, possibly the worst named company in Britain given that it’s rarely first, never great and not entirely western, offers complimentary snacks and beverages to first class passengers. For some reason best known to themselves however, you don’t get the same coffee if it’s free as if you pay, it’s slightly smaller and this goes for all the other drinks in their complimentary range. Why this is we don’t know, it means two lots of stock and as you can order two small ones anyway it seems a bureaucratic waste of time.

Because of this the train manager (read conductor before everyone had to have a fancy title) nearly always exhorts that passengers requiring complimentary snacks show their ticket before ordering – otherwise, heaven forfend, someone might get a coffee with an extra 10% in it.

The lengths that they take this was shown to me this week. A passenger in front of me ordered a hot chocolate without showing his ticket and the buffet attendant started to make a standard one. To be fair no announcement had been made about the ritual ticket waving. When the chocolate was produced and he was told the price we had the predictable faffing about it being free. The attendant explained the system and then promptly threw the drink down the sink and made another smaller size one before handing it over to the passenger.

Everyone in the queue thought this was strange to say the least but Mr Jobsworth didn’t even think twice about it so presumably it’s company policy – the expression waste, want not seems to have passed them by.

Great Uncle Percy?

It’s a standing joke where I work, when my boss mentions I’ve written a book – usually to try to impress a client, that it’s also being made into a film. Now the chance of Professional Ajax being made into a film ranks just behind the chance of me recording a duet with Lady Gaga but he also claims that Joe is being played by Brad Pitt, usually to loud guffaws from the room…

However a Fawcett is going to be played by Brad in a movie about Colonel Percy Fawcett and his adventures in the Amazon. I don’t think the colonel was a relation of mine, it would be nice to believe though. He was born in the mid-nineteenth century and after a distinguished military career, including inspiring authors H. Rider Haggard, who wrote King Solomon’s Mines, and Arthur Conan Doyle, for his book The Lost World with his tales of adventures, he decided to explore the Amazon where he believed he would find evidence of a great civilisation comparable or even greater than the Aztecs and the Mayans. He was considered by many to be a bit of a nutter for these beliefs, so perhaps we are related after all, and he was obviously a real life Indiana Jones in some ways. But others have had similar ideas and disproved their critics, I’m reminded of Schliemann and his quest for Troy, a city that was considered mythical by many until he eventually found it based on Homer’s work.

Unfortunately for Fawcett he disappeared in the Amazon in 1925 and it’s only recently that evidence for his claims has been found using modern exploratory techniques. What actually happened to him is still a mystery, most believe he just died an accidental death or was killed by natives, but the more romantically minded postulate he discovered his City of Z, as Fawcett named it, and opted to remain there. I’m not sure how Hollywood will handle this side of things.

Anyway I shall look forward to attending the film, The Lost City of Z, when it’s released and might even invite my boss along.

Would You Believe It?

Today, despite the snow, I left for work at the usual time and suffered no delays on the Tube. Nearly all services were were working as usual. True, there was only about an inch of snow in Queen’s Park and most of central London seems clear but the outskirts have been hit pretty badly and over twelve inches near places like Reading.

Often the breakdown in services is caused by a chain reaction. Staff in outlying areas that are badly hit cannot get into work which means that others, who use those services themselves to commute, also cannot get in. Suddenly the whole system is at a standstill, maybe because of only a few dozen that were originally affected. One more demonstration of the butterfly effect.

On another note I see we are to have an extra bank holiday in 2012 to celebrate the Queen’s diamond jubilee, now even die-hard republicans have a reason to say long live the Queen!

Idiot or Genius?

I’m not sure I have much sympathy with the man who travelled 105 miles to board a ferry from Hull to Holland and tried to use new issued ID card instead of a passport. To take the document and see what happens is all well and good but, at this early stage in their use, to leave the passport at home seems asking for trouble. Needless to say ferry staff had never heard that they could be used for travel, in theory within the EU. It must have been particularly galling to find out that there were Dutch people on the same trip who had used their ID cards to board in Holland and were allowed to use them to return. I think he maybe just wanted to avoid a long drawn-out shopping trip with his wife.