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incompetence

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“I have noticed that, with few exceptions, men bungle their affairs. Everywhere I see incompetence rampant, incompetence triumphant…I have accepted the universality of incompetence.”

Laurence J. Peter
‘The Peter Principle’

Long term perusers of these gentle meanderings will no doubt be aware that – the occasional rant aside (usually concerning matters political) – I am not in the habit of ‘trash-talking’ anyone or anything that might – for whatever reason – have of late aroused my ire.

Should you utilise the search function built into this site to seek out occurrences of the term ‘incompetence’ – for example – you would find but a handful of posts, of which only two concern the performance of an organisation with which I was obliged to deal. Those two posts refer to a single incident back in 2014 when the UK’s national communications carrier – British Telecom – contrived to leave us without telephone or Internet access for six weeks over Christmas and the New Year.

Given our recent experiences in the travel line you will probably not be surprised that I am about to add another couple of posts (or more!) that will share the same tag. Regrettably this example also involves a corporation that lays claim to be a UK national carrier – though of a rather different commodity. I refer, of course, to British Airways.

Back in 2019 we were also out and about around the globe – paying our first visit to the UK since emigrating in 2015 and adding on at the end a rather lovely little cruising sojourn in the Greek islands as a means of relaxing and recuperating. We flew from London to Athens and back (somewhat against my better judgement) on British Airways – who proved to be all too competent at extracting from us the cash to cover the pre-booking of extra legroom seats – but all too incompetent in the manner in which they re-assigned those seats on the return journey to other people and bumped us to the window-less back row of the aircraft. Naturally they also subsequently omitted to reimburse us. I swore mightily that I would never again fly with BA – an oath which I sadly let slip upon discovering that they alone had the best price/availability for this year’s attempted safari trip to Africa.

Now, I apologise in advance for the length of this diatribe, but I am eager to reveal the exact extent of the amateurishness (with further apologies to real amateurs) of the service provided by pretty much all concerned in this wretched business.

Here is the first part (or pre-amble):

Having decided upon our long-dreamt-of trip to the African continent (specifically a safari excursion to Botswana and to Victoria Falls) back in December last, we duly booked flights with British Airways from Victoria to London (via Seattle) for 22nd May – and on to Johannesburg for 25th May. We made a further onward booking to Maun in Botswana with a regional airline. The return flights were booked for 6th June from Johannesburg to London and then back to Victoria (via Seattle) on 11th June. All BA flights were booked in Club Class except for the short hop from Victoria to Seattle and back.

The Girl and I each made our own bookings so that we could use our own credit cards and/or points, but were assured that the two bookings could be ‘tied’ together.

Over the ensuing five months until we traveled we spent a great deal of time and money purchasing specific clothing and gear for our safari as detailed in previous posts.  The excitement was building.

Over the months leading up to our departure BA made a number of changes to our bookings; altering the time of the Seattle/London flight; cancelling the return Seattle/Victoria flight (which necessitated us staying an extra night in Seattle at our expense); changing the aircraft type for the Seattle/London leg (and seating us in different parts of the aircraft in the process)… before finally – 24 hours before our departure – cancelling the following day’s Seattle to London flight and re-booking us on an American Airways flight in economy! After a long and feisty phone conversation with a BA agent (on the part of The Girl), we were re-routed on an Aer Lingus flight from Seattle to London via Dublin – in Club Class.

Our journey from Victoria to London was at least for the most part comfortable and pleasant (kudos to Aer Lingus), even if rather longer than originally planned.

You will be unsurprised to hear that none of our dealings with BA to this point inspired confidence. The experience was, however, nothing compared with that which was to follow…

…for talk of which the gentle reader must patiently await the next post.

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A very dear friend here in Victoria gave me for Christmas a copy of Bob Woodward’s 2020 book on Donald Trump – ‘Rage‘. This friend is building an excellent reputation for giving me thoughtful and imaginative gifts – particularly in the form of books that should be read – and this is no exception.

Now – some readers might well demur.

Trump is gone – thank heavens!” – they may say. “Why would you not just consign all thoughts thereof to the dustbin of history?“.

The reason for not so doing, of course, is that one must always be on guard and must without fail be able to recognise the enemy. That Trump was elected in the first place is scary enough. That he might be so again – or that someone in his image could so do – is an ongoing, clear and present threat.

At one point in the book Woodward recalls an English professor at his college who advised him that – to be an effective biographer – the writer must find true ‘reflectors‘ of his subject – ie: those who know the subject intimately and can provide perceptive character assessments. Woodward toys with the notion of casting Jared Kushner (Trump’s son in law) in the role, but decides that he is too much in thrall to the man himself.

What changes his mind is advice that Kushner gives to unspecified others on how to understand Trump. He points them in the direction of four texts:

  • A piece on Trump by Pulizter Prize-winning columnist from the Wall Street Journal – Peggy Noonan. Noonan writes:

We are not talking about being colorfully, craftily unpredictable, as political masters like FDR and Reagan sometimes were, but something more unfortunate – an unhinged or not fully-hinged quality that feels like a screwball tragedy.

Noonan continues: “Crazy doesn’t last. Crazy doesn’t go the distance. Crazy is an unstable element that, when let loose in a stable environment, explodes.

  • Kushner’s second text is ‘Alice in Wonderland‘ – and specifically the Cheshire Cat! Kushner paraphrased the cat:

If you don’t know where you are going, any path will get you there.

  • The third text is Chris Whipple’s book – ‘The Gatekeepers: How the White House Chiefs of Staff Define Every Presidency‘. In a section on Trump added in 2018 Whipple wrote that:

Trump ‘clearly had no idea how to govern’ in his first year in office, yet was reluctant to follow the advice of his first two chiefs of staff – Reince Priebus and John Kelly“.

  • The final text is Scott Adam’s (the creator of the Dilbert comic strips) book – ‘Win bigly: Persuasion in a World Where Facts Don’t Matter’. Adams argues that:

Trump’s misstatements of fact are not regrettable errors or ethical lapses, but part of a technique called ‘intentional wrongness persuasion’Trump ‘can invent any reality’ for most voters on most issues and ‘all you will remember is that he provided his reasons, he didn’t apologise and his opponents called him a liar like they always do’.”

Kushner adds:

Controversy elevates message… A controversy over the economy – and how good it is – only helps Trump because it reminds voters that the economy is good. A hair-splitting fact-checking debate in the media about whether the numbers were technically better decades ago or in the 1950s is irrelevant“.

Remember that these are texts that Kushner – a fervent acolyte of the then-president – volunteered by way of trying to help others to understand Trump. Woodward concludes:

When combined, Kushner’s four texts painted President Trump as crazy, aimless, stubborn and manipulative. I could hardly believe that anyone would recommend these as ways to understand their father-in-law, much less the president they believed in and served“.

We would be wise – to quote Thomas Cranmer – to: “Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest…

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I most heartily wish not to be writing this post!

There are many other positive and interesting topics that I have scribbled on imaginary Post-It notes stuck to my fictional whiteboard… but I can’t concentrate on any of them at the moment because my head is full of anxiety and nervous tension concerning the happenings south of the border. When I look out of my window across the Haro Strait I can see the US of A – and right now that is making me cranky.

I am angry that enough US citizens voted for Trump that there is even the slightest scintilla of doubt that he has lost the election. That is their right and – however misguided I (and many, many others around the world) might believe them to be – I actually have no argument with them and what they have done.

That is not the case when it comes to the other guilty parties.

Let’s not beat about the bush. Trump is a bad person. He is also a particularly dangerous person and certainly not – in a million years – fit to govern what was only recently one of the world’s great super-powers. (Oh – the bitter irony of MAGA – when Trump and his wrecking crew are so ruthlessly dedicated to destroying everything that ever made it great – starting with democracy!). Trump is mendacious – he is a narcissist – he is a fantasist – he is immoral, amoral, totally unscrupulous and no-where near as bright as he thinks he is. Yes – he is also probably ill – at least mentally.

But it is not even he who makes me so angry – since I presume that he does not even have the mental faculty to properly grasp the inevitable outcomes of his actions.

No – the ones that have me worked up into such a righteous fury are the un-speakables in the Republican Party. Many of these people are educated and – notionally at least – intelligent. They know what they are doing. They also know that the election is lost and that we are entering uncharted waters. They should be acting in a responsible manner and doing their damnedest to protect American democracy.

They are not. They are taking a wild risk on the inevitable destruction opening up certain financial and political opportunities for those who are in the right place at the right time – much in the way that the loathsome tories are doing with Brexit in the UK. (Johnson watches anxiously across the pond at his role model, scared that events in the US will reveal – like the writing on the wall – his own eventual and gruesome fate).

Enough! I imagine that much of the rest of the world would join me in wishing most heartily that this were all over and that those responsible were banished – Napoleon-like – to some god-forsaken rock in the south Atlantic.

 

Next time – Rugby!

 

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Those of us of a certain age – and in particular those of us who played in bands ‘back in the day’ – will be familiar with Rob Reiner’s ‘mockumentary’ (the very first of its kind) – “This is Spinal Tap“. It was obligatory in the mid 80s for us to have seen the film (often many times) – to know it sufficiently well that we could quote chunks of it by heart – and to claim that it must somehow have been based on our own band’s experiences (usually completely missing the point that it was a satire… Yup – we took ourselves pretty seriously!).

Now – I must confess that, though I have certainly seen the whole film, I have a feeling that I have not ever done so in one sitting. I also have a feeling that I may not be alone in this. No matter!

Why am I bringing this up now?

Well – though the main characters in the spoof band were played by talented actor/musicians Michael McKean, Christopher Guest and Harry Shearer (who went on to voice a number of key characters in ‘The Simpsons’) – one of the jokes was that Spinal Tap had worked its way through an infeasible number of drummers – most of whom had died in unusual circumstances (two from spontaneous human combustion onstage and one from choking on “someone else’s vomit”). Yet another had died in a “bizarre gardening accident” which was supposedly described by the police afterwards as a mystery “best left unsolved.”

Yes – you’ve guessed it! I was on the InterWebNet looking up unusual gardening accidents. There are – of course – many ways to injure oneself whilst tending to one’s estate (pretentious? moi?) and most of them do not bear thinking about. Some – however – just hurt a lot and make one feel particularly stupid. Such was the minor incident in which I was involved the other day.

I was mowing the lawn – which I am obliged to do with sufficient frequency that I should by now have achieved ‘black-belt’ status in the noble art of grass cutting. I should certainly know well enough what I am about that the following should not have taken place.

I stopped the mower to empty the clipping bag. Having done so I set things up again and gave a vigorous tug on the starter cord. Unfortunately I had not noticed that I was positioned rather too close to the corner of our garden tool-shed (Canadian: shop) and as I jerked my arm back the point of my elbow impacted with the corner of the building.

“Ouch!” (That is – of course – not the word that I used at the time…)

What a numpty!

 

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”…home from the sea”

A. E. Housman (rather than the Robert Louis Stevenson original)

Well – we are back!

We had a wonderful trip (concerning which much more will be written) and took many photographs (of which many such will be posted). All went like clockwork until we came to the final two days, when our return travel plans went slightly awry.

I have – since a particularly uncomfortable long-haul flight some twenty years ago – always tried to avoid flying with what was once tagged ‘Britain’s Favourite Airline’. We chose them for our return journey from the UK to Greece, however, because the price and timings were reasonable and because we could follow our regular practice of paying for the extra-legroom exit-row seats.

A couple of days before the outbound departure I received an email advising me of a seat change, though I was not able to detect any difference. Puzzled I called BA Customer Service. They were likewise confused, but hazarded that the aircraft type or configuration might have changed. Whilst on the phone I got them to confirm that our return flights would feature the very same seats as we had chosen for the outward flight.

This first leg went reasonably smoothly. On the return (having received no further emails from BA) we checked in without paying too much attention and it was only when we got to the gate that I realised that we had been bumped from the seats for which we had paid to the back of the aircraft. There followed a heated but fruitless exchange at the desk during which we were informed that the aircraft must have been changed and that nothing could be done.

Investigation during the flight revealed that the aircraft was if fact identical to that on which we had flown the outbound leg, that the seats from which we had been removed still existed (with the very same seat numbers) and that someone else was sitting in them. Though we had payed extra for these seats we had been moved to the very back of the plane, lost our chosen aisle seat and were in a row with no window. In short, for the additional fee, we were now in the worst seats on the plane.

A visit to the Customer Service desk after landing garnered sympathy and the information that we could get a refund – but only by writing to BA to claim it. In this age of modern technology it must have been quite possible for the airline to automatically generate a refund at the point at which the seats for which we had paid were reassigned.

We naturally won’t be flying with BA again!

The next day we had as good a flight back to Vancouver with Air Canada as is possible on any journey of nine and a half hours. The Boeing 787 was spacious and we had masses of extra room in our exit-row seats. On landing in Vancouver we did what we have always done (and which is still necessary for all other airlines) – we waited at the baggage carousel to pick up our checked luggage prior to re-checking it for the internal flight.

We waited some more… Nothing appeared.

I visited both of the Information Desks in the baggage hall. Neither was manned!

Finally The Girl found a knowledgeable operative. We discovered that – for Air Canada only – baggage is now passed directly through to the connecting flight. The procedure was apparently changed two years ago but – since we have not done this trek since moving to Canada – we were unaware of the fact and had not been told. With time to make our connection now short we sprinted down what felt like several miles of corridor and stairway.

Unfortunately, even though one has come directly from another flight (for which one has already been security-checked) YVR insists on re-checking… and the operation is a complete gong-show! Very nearly half of all bags – including two of ours – were hauled out for special attention, carried out with excruciating slowness one at a time. We had purchased a bottle of spirits on the Vancouver flight which had been sealed in a special bag to ease onward transit. Regardless of this precaution the officer carefully unsealed the package, checked the pristine contents and then carefully and slowly resealed the bag (why?!).

The end result was that we arrived at the gate in time to see our plane accelerating away in the direction of the taxi-way. We were forced to join the standby list for the following flight.

Enquiring as to what had happened to our checked luggage we were told be no less than three officials that – as we were not on the plane that had just left – our cases would not have been on it either. Given the couple of days we had just endured we were not in the least surprised to find, on arrival in Victoria, that our luggage was already there waiting for us. No-one involved in either of these sorry affairs exactly covered themselves with glory.

What conclusion are we to draw from these mishaps?

It was clearly time to come home!

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Photo by Paulo Ordoveza on FlickrAfter six weeks – forty two painful days – one thousand and eight excruciating hours – we finally once again have telephone and broadband connections at home. Hoo-bloomin’-ray!

British Telecom (BT) naturally made things difficult to the last. Having informed us – after their previous no-show – that the fault lay without our apartment they subsequently changed their minds and required us to make another appointment. When – following the obligatory week’s delay – an Openreach engineer finally visited us in the flesh he informed us that a test that he had performed outside in his van before ringing the doorbell had demonstrated that the fault was – after all – out in the street. He surmised that the previous engineer assigned to the case had not correctly measured the distance from the cabinet to the break in the cable – hence his mistake and this latest delay.

This engineer was – inevitably – not equipped to fix faults outside the premises, and we had to wait for a further twenty four hours for the situation to be finally resolved.

OK. I will shortly shut up about BT (at least until they try to bill us for the service that we have not had!) but one thing I would say is that I have modified somewhat my views concerning BT’s incompetence. I certainly believe that the maintenance division – Openreach – is deeply flawed in this regard. The first meaningful information we were given was that which the visiting engineer imparted to us – nearly six weeks after the fault was reported. The inescapable subtext of his observations was that Openreach had made no serious attempt to diagnose the problem up to that point! Had they done so the fault would have been fixed in a couple of days. This is just unacceptable.

The Customer Service side of the operation – on the other hand – is clearly broken by design… which is quite simply an insult.

The BT website is explicitly designed to prevent customers from communicating in any meaningful way with real live human beings. Should one contrive – through one’s own extensive efforts – to actually discover a contact phone number, this simply (should one be (un)lucky enough to get through) connects one to BT’s call centre on the Indian subcontinent. The role of the perpetually (and unnervingly) cheerful souls who man this godforsaken outpost of the BT empire is to act as cannon fodder to the angry customer. They can do no more – since they are not equipped so to do. They have no useful information to pass on, and nothing said to them finds it’s way back to the engineers.

Once I had finally made an appointment with the Outreach engineer I was called by no less than four different call centre operatives, each wishing to inform me that an engineer was to visit. Oh really?!

After the engineer had been and gone they called again:

“An engineer will be with you this afternoon.”

“He’s already been.”

“I’ll call back later to update you.”

“No – let me update you!”

…and I filled them in on the nature of the fault. It was clearly the first time that they had heard any of this information.

BT would doubtless try to explain away this sorry excuse for a ‘service’ by pleading the sheer weight of calls with which they have to deal. Well – I have some advice… equip the operatives with useful information to disburse and the customer will not feel the need to keep calling back. I would estimate – from my own experience – that call traffic could be cut by 70-80%! This would also reduce dramatically the amount of time currently given over to listening to the angry diatribes of disillusioned customers.

Right! That’s enough…

Flame off!

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800px-IceStormPowerLinesAt the risk of boring the gentle reader…

I find that I now have a terrible compulsion to continue my explication of the train-wreck that is our current contretemps with British Telecom over our broken phone line and non-existent broadband – from which I am apparently unable to avert my attention!

Sorry about that…

After Openreach’s total failure last Friday either to show up during the specified five hour period that I waited for them, or to inform me that they were not actually coming after all… nothing happened! Though they had now identified that the fault was outside the property – somewhere between the cabinet in the street and the neighbouring telegraph pole – they declined to do anything about it.

When nothing had also been done by Tuesday I felt it my grim duty to contact BT anew to demand to know why not. I tried to call the fault contact number.

BT has a fancy-pants automated answering system. I have no idea for whose benefit this is meant to be, but it clearly is not the customer’s. It works like this:

  • The customer calls BT. The robot answers and asks the customer to state – in a few words – the nature of the enquiry, adding – as a helpful example – “to order a new circuit?” (note: not to ‘complain about BT’s inexcusable failure to fix a long-standing fault!’)
  • The customer – who has by now been through this process a number of times – responds with a pithily sarcastic observation implying complete lack of confidence in BT’s ability to hit a barn door with a banjo!
  • BT’s automated system magically interprets this correctly as a request for an update on a fault and asks the customer to type the number of the phone concerned on the keypad.
  • The user does so – carefully!
  • The system totally fails to recognise the number, declares that since this is not a BT number they are unable to assist, and terminates the call abruptly!!

After several attempts this particular customer decided to try an oblique approach instead. I called again, but this time answered the first question with – “I’d like to order a new circuit”. As if by magic I was connected to a real-live person who sweetly enquired how he might help. “You can connect me to someone in your faults department” – I snarled – “without forcing me through your wretched automated system!”…

The faults department operative – speaking from the far side of the planet – did not know the answer to my plaintive questions but promised to call me back. “Use my office number” – I pleaded – “as there is no mobile signal in our building”. Naturally they called the mobile instead and left a voicemail which I found later when I left the building to go home. The message informed me – brightly – that the fault had been ‘escalated’. Not fixed – of course! That would be too much to ask.

When I checked the fault log on the BT website again later I discovered that this ‘escalation’ had apparently empowered BT to push back the target fix date to next Friday – more than five weeks after the fault was first logged!

An email plopped into my inbox. It was a telephone bill – from BT. Not only do they want to charge us a line-rental fee for a connection that has not worked in more than a month, but closer inspection showed that they also want to make us pay for a number of calls to the USA that we didn’t make – from the period that our line was crossed with someone else’s!

I called the far side of the world again.

The bright young man promised that once the fault was fixed (displaying an optimism that I, for one, found hard to summon) the bill would be adjusted accordingly and that we would not be asked to pay for this absence of service.

He then – shamelessly – tried to sell me a BT Broadband service!!!

If BT reward their telesales staff for chutzpah – this young man must be raking it in…

 

…Our phone line still doesn’t work…

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bah…with rage!!

The year has gotten off to a shaky start. We still have no phone or broadband at home (I am yet again sitting in a coffee shop availing myself of their generous free service) and at the risk of boring the gentle reader I simply have to vent!

Regular ‘Imperceptibles’ will be aware by now of my recent battles with British Telecom (BT) to get this fault – which first appeared almost a month ago – resolved. I posted at some length on the subject here and here.

BT had decided before we went to Canada that the fault was internal to our premises and that a visit was thus required. I was not at that point able make an appointment for such a visit on a date after our return because BT would not take bookings that far ahead.

I therefore endeavored to set up the appointment whilst we were in Canada. I failed! The BT website – which had at one stage offered me a helpful link to create such an appointment – no longer did so, the fault having been ‘parked’ in a manner that did not allow it. Lacking any other practical means of communicating with BT – and struggling as ever to make any sense of their ludicrously unhelpful website – I finally emailed them using their online form. On this form I specified that they should communicate with me by email.

I heard nothing!

On our return to the UK I discovered that they had actually tried to reach me – by calling my mobile phone! They had left a voicemail. Now – I had specifically directed them not to do this because Vodafone – my mobile provider – are only slightly less unhelpful than BT. Whereas they were quite happy to inform me – in Canada – that I had been sent a voicemail message, they would only let me listen to it had I set my account up in a particular way before we left the UK! 

Doh!

The upshot of all this was that BT would not attend on the one day that one of us – the Kickass Canada Girl as it happened – was going to be at home – and I had instead to take time off work to be in residence this morning between the hours of 8:00am and 1:00pm.

Hours passed. No engineer appeared. Finally the clock struck one! In a state of considerable annoyance I called BT. Having been told repeatedly by a recorded message just how busy they were (I – of course – had nothing at all to do) I was eventually put through to someone on the subcontinent (how ironic that BT can connect customer service calls to the far side of the globe but they can’t give me a phone line in the Home Counties!).

BT Customer Services were unable to advise as to the missing engineer but promised to contact BT Openreach (the service component of our national carrier) and to call me back. When they did so they told me that Openreach had done some further testing and had decided that the fault was – after all – not within our premises and that an appointment would thus not be required.

Soooo…! BT had decided not to visit me, but didn’t think it worthwhile to let me know. I had sat around for 5 hours – with no broadband – for absolutely no reason!! A day’s leave had been wasted and it was now too late to drive into London to go to the office.

Even worse – since the fault did not require a visit after all it could in fact have been resolved at any point during the previous month!!!

The phone and broadband still do not work and we now face another weekend without before BT’s new deadline to fix of Monday next. I’m not holding my breath!

I am finding it difficult to convey exactly how furious I am at this demonstration of incompetence on such an epic level! BT’s perversity is almost heroic!! I asked the BT Customer Service lady how I might complain about Openreach’s disdainful level of service (or lack thereof!). She told me that I could not communicate with them directly because they are not ‘customer facing’. That’s right. The people who come to one’s residence to deal with installations and faults are not ‘customer facing’!! Just what sort of business are these people running?!

It is a vain hope, I know, that someone involved with British Telecom or Openreach might one day just idly Google the terms ‘Openreach’ and ‘incompetence’ and find a reference to this blog – but the thought that someone might accidentally do so makes me feel just the tiniest bit better.

Thank you for listening!

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Photo by DrinksMachine on FlickrAs we continue to jet around the world (the western Canadian components anyway) the subject of communication – in all its myriad forms – floats unbidden into my mind. There are understandably pertinent reasons for this upon which I will pontificate shortly – but first I feel moved to offer an update on the persisting saga of the UK national carrier – British Telecom (BT) – and our domestic telephone connection, which discourse I commenced here.

Subsequent to my rant BT posted on their fault log a proposed fix time for the line of 17:00 hours on the day before we were due to leave the UK for Canada. As nothing at all had happened during the few days prior to that deadline I guessed that they were not going to achieve their target. Sure enough they contacted me during the final afternoon and told me that an engineer would need to pay a visit to our apartment, and that we should thus make an appointment for them so to do. I protested that the fault was clearly in the network rather than at our end but that cut no ice. BT further demanded that I carry out various tests on our domestic equipment before booking the visit, apparently so that they could charge me large sums of money should the fault prove not to be in their domain.

I pointed out that we were about to leave for Canada, not to return until January 7th. BT told me that they could not book further ahead than January 6th. Doh! We left it that I would book something online from BC.

The next morning – as we awaited our cab to take us to the airport – the doorbell rang. It was a BT engineer!

Needless to say I was obliged – cursing under my breath – to send him away…

 

Since our arrival in Canada I have struggled to stay in touch with the outside world and, indeed, to keep up my postings to this blog. We are carrying with us a laptop, two iPads (one belonging to the School), an iPhone and my Galaxy Note. All of these can easily be connected to the InterWebNet and once upon a time we would happily have freeloaded our way around the globe, pirating unsecured wireless networks at every stop. Sadly – for us – the rest of the connected world is no longer quite as cavalier when it comes to network security and we now struggle to find an open connection of which we can take advantage.

We are now staying with our wonderful friends in Saanichton at their smallholding. The good news for them is that they have expanded their business and built a new office further down their acreage. The bad news for us is that their broadband circuit is now in the new location and thus not accessible from the house. I can no longer scribble these posts lying in bed as once I could.

For the rest of the time it is a case of visiting coffee shops and other hostelries and utilising their free wireless services – assuming that one can connect – which is far from always being the case.

The message that I take from all of this is – you will not be surprised to hear – that we now live in a world in which many of us feel stripped naked if we do not have high speed access to the InterWebNet. I can’t quite work out if this is a bad thing or not and that will doubtless be the subject of much further musing in future posts.

In any case it is now time to wish all gentle readers the very happiest of Christmases and to sign off.

Peace! Stay safe. Enjoy!!

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Photo by BrewBooks on FlickrOur domestic telephone circuit is provided by that unlovely agglomeration – British Telecom (BT) – with whom I have had many and various dealings over the years both in professional and personal capacities. As is the way in this neoteric age the medium nowadays serves a dual purpose, carrying – along with any telephone traffic – our broadband data connection. This latter is – counter-intuitively – actually provided by a different corporation altogether – our Internet Service Provider (or ‘ISP’ for TLA aficionados) of choice.

It is undoubtedly a sign of the times that whereas the telephone these days gets very little use the data traffic hums near constantly…

…until a couple of days ago – when it stopped!

Actually – that’s not strictly accurate. It didn’t so much stop – as go astray!

I was working on the InterWebNet late of the evening when I was somewhat taken aback to find the screen suddenly appropriated by an ISP warning message. What was particularly strange about this was that the message was not from our ISP! Now – I’ve worked in IT for a long time, but in this case it didn’t take a technical genius to work out that we had somehow been disconnected from our service provider and connected to someone else’s. Our ISP confirmed this the following morning when I called them from my office – informing me that as far as they could see no traffic had passed on our connection to them in the previous 12 hours.

There followed a morning of fruitless calls to both ISPs and to BT – each of which in turn metaphorically shrugged their shoulders and referred me to one of the other parties – something that I find happens all too often these days when dealing with customer ‘services’. Finally our ISP suggested that I call them from home – whilst at the computer – so that they could attempt a diagnosis in ‘real time’.

To that end once I had fought my way home from the office I seated myself in front of my PC and picked up the telephone. The line was dead! I hadn’t thought to check this the night before. Just to be on the safe side I thought I should check the line by calling the number from my mobile phone.

To my surprise the call was answered by someone else. Someone that I didn’t know!

Well, you will have worked out by now – as did I – that my entire connection had mysteriously been swapped with someone else’s – the classic crossed-line. I called BT… or rather – I tried to call BT. We played an inverted form of Russian Roulette through their automated call-centre system, with me being half a dozen times the recipient of the equivalent of the bullet to the brain (being bumped out after half a dozen steps because – apparently – I am ‘not a BT customer’… (I wish!)). Finally – by punching in a sequence of random digits in response to some arbitrary question or other I got through to a real live person. It didn’t take long for him to acknowledge that lines must indeed somehow have been crossed and to log the fault.

BT wasted no time. They cut us off from the provider to which we had inadvertently been transferred and left us with no connection at all! Five days on we still await some resolution. As we head to Canada first thing tomorrow morning I guess that there is a very real chance that the matter may not be resolved until the New Year.

The Kickass Canada Girl – who does not like to be parted from the InterWebNet – was not amused!

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