On teapots and punctuation

"We had to keep going you know  because I've only got a certain amount of energy available each day," the woman declared too loudly as she boarded the tram.

I looked up to check that she was in fact human. I was expecting something battery powered.

"Mmmm yes well shopping's shopping really isn't it?" said her companion.

They both lacked punctuation when they spoke.

"Yes it is everything is the same it doesn't matter where you go there's nothing new although we did see some lovely teapots only $100 each but then who really needs another teapot especially if you have to pay that much for it."

"No things aren't cheap over here are they $100 for a teapot seems like far too much but they were lovely but you have enough teapots you don't need another one."

I sat pondering the question of how many teapots does one have to have to be declared at that point of "enough"? I also worried that the conversation could involve a detailed, unpunctuated description of the various qualities of teapots.

My stop came and I never found out. My life will go on.

Why do people speak without punctuation? (Although having spent the day reading student evaluations, I could also ask why punctuation is not used for written communication. I think the language in which they write is English, but sometimes I honestly can't tell.)

I have a neat little stainless steel teapot that is perfect to make one sizeable cup of tea. It's round and welcoming and cost me far less than $100. I have the same teapot in a larger size for when there's more than one tea drinker in the house. I wouldn't dream of serving tea bags.

This reminds me of the time I was out with a dear friend and we went to a cafe in Hobart. I felt like a cup of tea, but have learned that assumptions about the quality of tea served must be checked.

After confirming that the establishment served tea, I asked whether they used leaves or a bag.  The girl looked very confused - perhaps conflicted.

"Well, they're leaves, but ... but...they're in a bag?" The upward inflection betrayed her uncertainty.

To stop me from laughing in her face I promptly ordered a cappuccino.

What's the most you've ever paid for a teapot? Do you use a pot or a bag?

Out in the rain, out on the tracks

Sorry about my absence. Funny how the days sneak up and bleed into the nights and suddenly lots of them have slipped by.

Metro Trains have changed the time table. I haven't quite worked out what it all means, but their great smart phone app, called "Notify" lets me know each morning when my train is due to run.  For example, the 7:20am now departs at 7:18 because of the changed timetable. Great service. Unfortunately, there's been a few occasions where the next communication is to advise that the train has been delayed. Ironically, it's later than it would have been if the timetable hadn't changed. 

Still on the subject of public transport, Melbournians lose their usually excellent capacity to play well with others when it involves rain, peak hour and public transport. As I watched the sky turn from a sunny blue to a terrifying black, I made my plans to exit the building. I finished a phone call from a friend and was just about to take his advice and leave (the temperature had dropped to about 8 degrees with wind and rain thrown in for extra excitement) when my boss stopped me to check in on a few things. By the time I left, it was even colder and much wetter. Huddling at the tram stop, with only a tiny foldable umbrella - rendered impotent by the wind - I found a new definition of misery. This new definition was replaced a moment later as I huddled, damply, on the tram. I tried to wrangle my umbrella so I didn't wet anyone anymore than they already were. Meanwhile, I felt a wet patch growing on my back. The woman behind me was pressing her soaking, dripping umbrella into my back. We adjusted. The tram stopped a the next stop. No one alighted. A few determined people squeezed into non-existent space, pleading for us to move in. We were so squashed that the only way I could create more space was to inhale, so I did. 

The next ordeal was negotiating the stupidly skinny tram platform that was packed with too many people, plus their backpacks in the rain with umbrellas and rain hoods making it impossible to see each other. We stood on our refuge, wedged between the tram line and two lanes of traffic. Opposite, a man squatted down with his camera and leaped to action when we started to cross.

My outfit served me well today, drawing comments from many quarters: 

"That's a very eclectic outfit". I chose to respond with "thank you".

"Your dress is hitched up at the back, let me just...oh...how does it work?" I explained the complex rigging involved and thanked her for being concerned.  She revealed her plan to protect my modesty.

"What a fantastic outfit!" was the best comment of the day, as I interacted with people who are more from "my" world.

Hail, rain and wind are on the cards for tomorrow. I must prepare for the travel odyssey ahead. I shall think of it as character building.

We certainly saw Lorraine today: http://youtu.be/Lw6zjxH9aAk

To borrow a phrase - I can't stand the rain

It's raining in Melbourne. It's been raining solidly for the last couple of days. Apparentlly we've received our monthly rainfall in a couple of days. I forget which month. It's a bit wearing, travelling around, hauling umbrellas, avoiding others' umbrellas, being constantly damp, managing frizzy hair, but it's been lovely to see the grass green again.

I've been persisting with my daily walk. The trains and trams are so stuffy and humid that it's actually nicer to be out in the air, even if you are a bit damp and your hair has turned into a fuzz ball. In one spot where I walk there is a glorious stand of eucalyptus trees. I pause to take in the scent. I also notice the bubbles forming on the puddles and feel sorry for the people trapped in their cars, lined up and going no where.

I've been puzzled by the people I've seen hunched over, as if they are making themselves so small, they would fit between the raindrops. In one hand they clutch an umbrella. Why don't they open it and take shelter?

Umbrellas are particularly hazardous when boarding and alighting from trains and trams. I was nearly stabbed to death by a small Asian woman who suddenly changed direction while we waited to touch off our mykis on the way out of the station. I stood very still and she looked terrified.

All the floors are slippery and I walk like a 90 year-old woman everywhere I see a smooth service. Since my fall last year, I'm acutely aware of how a simple fall can cause serious injury. I'm constantly surprised by how many walking surfaces are completely unsuited to wet weather and rushing crowds of people.

This morning's commute was chaotic. Power failures further down the line meant cancellations and delays. As the train pulled into the station 15 minutes late, the windows were dark with crowds inside and fogged with all their breathing. I insinuated myself into an inadequate space, having already let one train pass. I held onto an overhead railing at an angle just wrong enough to make me feel discombobulated when I finally arrived at my destination.

Coming home a woman asked whether station announcements are made on the train.

"Sometimes," I told her. "If you're lucky, they might even be accurate."

She looked at me like I was some kind of zealot.

Soon the voice of Metro trains announced that the next station was Seddon. It wasn't. It was South Kensington. Only two stops out. The woman looked at me with mistrust when I told her where to get off. The train, I mean. I shrugged. She could trust me - a stranger on a train - or she could trust the disembodied, malfunctioning woman with the voice. Or she could look out the window and see the name of the station.

It's nice to arrive home to a dry place; although I'm slightly nervous that the unattended hole in the ceiling will soon prove to be catastrophic.

As I settle in to watch Survivor tonight, I'm reminded to be glad that I'm not camping on a beach, even if I was in the running to win a million dollars. Or in north Queensland waiting for the cyclone to arrive.

How do you feel about rain?

Move over - where do you sit on public transport?

Lately I've been thinking about where people sit when they're on public transport, including how people interact with each other.

Increasingly I notice people sit on the empty seat nearest the aisle, even where the other two seats further from the aisle are empty. I then notice many other people standing, even when there are seats available. Other people do ask to access a seat. Often the response from people already seated is to remain where they are, forcing others to step over them to reach a seat.

I find it bizarre. I regularly request people to move over so I can sit. Mostly people respond by moving over and leaving the vacant seat more accessible for all of us. Once when someone didn't move and required me to crawl over their lap, I asked them where they were getting off the train. This enabled me to establish they were getting off after me and it just made sense for them to move over. They moved begrudgingly.

If you don't want to sit next to other people, either don't catch public transport, or don't take a seat.

This afternoon I had a different problem. I was seated and had a couple of bags on the floor behind my legs. A man sat opposite me and splayed his legs out, kicking me and my bags. I asked him to give me a moment, so I could rearrange things and it was as if I had not spoken. How weird! There we are, knees virtually pressed together and he can't hear me? Can't see me? Maybe if he acknowledges my existence in that moment of pressed together confinement, it will become overwhelmingly intimate and confronting. Better to not believe I even exist.

The other thing that drives me mad is people pressing me from behind as I stand aside to let passengers off the train, before I try and board. It's as if they think the train will leave before the one hundred people on the platform board. The same thing happens when trying to disembark during peak hour - people push from behind to get you out of the way. Then they press you up the escalators and press you through the turnstiles to exit the station.

Everyone needs to get on and off the train. We all need to travel together, so why not be courteous and considerate of each other as human beings? It's not difficult and you may even be rewarded by a smile and a thank you!

Where's your preferred travel spot on public transport? What's your strategy for securing a seat?

All the "stupid people"

Some days I wonder what I would write about if I drove my car everywhere and never caught public transport. Other days I wonder whether my experiences are a true reflection of the public transport experience.

I was waiting at the tram stop in front of the State Library on Swanston Street. My hairdresser had called to tell me he could fit me in half an hour earlier if I could get there. I could. I had just been planning how to fill in half an hour when he called. So there I am, waiting for the advertised three minutes before the number 8 tram was due to arrive. 

"Excuse me!" I heard a man's voice say. I looked around, more out of curiosity than any specific reason for thinking his plea was directed to me.

"Excuse me! You, lady, come over here!" He seemed to be addressing me. I pointed at myself and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, you!"

I was taken aback. I was just standing waiting for a tram. I felt like I was being summoned to the headmaster's office. What could I have done? I didn't want to be commanded by a man in uniform to do anything  - those desires were quenched when I went through a misguided "I want to join the airforce and fly fighter jets" phase, fed by seeing the film "Top Gun" - even if the said uniform consisted of a fetching orange high-vis vest with the words "customer service" plastered across the back.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Just come over here." He pointed to something behind the tram stop on the lawn in front of the library.

I took a tentative step. The high-vis vest didn't give him the amount of power he was exercising.

"Look at those stupid people!" he pointed and exclaimed.

I saw two punks with spectacular hair. One, the woman, had fire engine red in a mohawk with spikes that were at least 30 centimetres long. The other was a man and he had the same spikes, but in jet black. He was standing behind her and doing something with her hair. 

"Who?" I asked.

"The ones with the stupid hair! How ridiculous.  People are stupid you know!"

I shrugged nervously. I didn't really think they were stupid. 

"Each to their own," I chirruped.  

The man shook his head and looked at me before saying, "People in this world are so stupid. Don't you think?"

"Not really. That's my tram."  It really was the number 8, although I would have happily boarded the next tram to anywhere just to avoid a continuation of the proclamation.

I took my seat and looked again at the two punks, just ordinary people in each other's company, albeit with spectacular hair. I wondered what the tram man had seen in me that caused him to think I would be sympathetic to his conservatism. I rethought my entire outfit and wondered whether I should ask my hairdresser to do something wild with my hair. Then I wondered what the man was so insecure about that he needed to point others out to complete strangers. It wasn't as though the two punks were imposing their hairstyles or choices on the tram man. Although if I saw him in his high-vis customer service vest, I wonder whether I'd think he was stupid.

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a woman screaming at her children to sit down. I could hear her over the music on my ipod. I looked around and saw three small boys cowering in silence. She continued with a tirade of contemplation about why they had to all be so stupid. 

She should be careful, they could all grow up to be punks.

Here's how I came out of the hairdresser. Brighter red, but no spikes!

Infinite selfie.
© divacultura 2013

myki public transport ticketing designed by Kafka

And we're back...Inspiration left me for a while there.  I think it was because I did something exciting that I can't tell you about just yet.  Time had to pass so there was space for something else to focus on.  And what better way than to talk about another bizarre process that I've discovered with Melbourne's public transport ticketing system, myki.

Things have been running fairly smoothly lately.  Generally, I've always thought that the day to day transactions with the card have run fairly well.  It's when you head into the "back office" process that the Kafkaesque trouble starts.

Last Thursday I travelled all over the place and then when I arrived at my home station, I could not find my myki.  Luckily I had registered the card so could immediately call and have the card blocked.  This protects any balance remaining on the card.  So far so good.  I also wanted the remaining balance returned to me. This is where the complexity seeps in.  They will transfer the balance onto a new myki and send it out in the mail as a result of my telephone request.  Sounds straightforward, except that I don't want or need another myki.  I have about half a dozen sitting on my desk.  These have been acquired for friends visiting or when I've arrived at the station and discovered the ticket isn't in my handbag so I've had to buy a whole new one (this could be rectified if there was a short term ticket option, but that has been explicitly ruled out by the State Government). I also acquired a couple through tasks required while I was a member of the customer experience panel giving feeback about all aspects of my experience with myki.

I asked for the balance to be put on one of the other cards that are registered on my account.  I was informed that the only way that can be done is if I fill in a paper form and post it in. The money is then transferred onto the card with the number nominated on the form. (Surprisingly) I don't even have to send in the myki I want to transfer to.  Why is a paper form required when all the details of registered cards are on my secure profile? (See what the Minister said about this issue in February 2012.)

"Why?" I asked.  "Because that's the process," came the answer.  To confuse matters further, the name of the form is "Refund and Reimbursement" which isn't really what we're talking about - it's a balance transfer.

Then I was informed that I was getting the benefit of a new card without having to pay the $6 purchase price.  That's true, except that I don't want or need another card and this is a public cost which is unnecessary.  What I want is my unused balance from the lost card to be put onto one of the cards I already have.  The cost would be minimal - especially if I could do it myself through my online account. Under the current process, the cost of a new card is added.

In the interests of highlighting problems so they can be fixed, I lodged feedback, specifically asking about why this is the process. Today I received a call from Kylie who informed me about the process.  I told her that I already know what the process is and I'm interested to know why this is the process. The conversation was pointless.

"All I can do is tell you what the process is and all you keep asking is why!"

"Well that's actually what I want to know."

"Well all I can tell you is what the process is."

"That's terrific, but I already know what the process is.  I actually want to understand the thinking that designed the process and point out how silly it is."

"All I can do is explain the process."

"What's the purpose of this phone call then? Was my feedback request not clear?"

"It was clear, but all I can do is explain the process and you keep asking why."

"Who should I be speaking to then?"

At the end of that exasperating exchange I was told to contact Public Transport Victoria via email or mail.

"Where are you from then? I thought I had contacted PTV initially."

"I work for PTV."

"Isn't that who you've said I have to talk to?"

"Yes, but I'm only in the myki section."

"But I'm wanting to talk about myki!"

"You need to send an email."

It's fitting really.  With such a costly, old-fashioned and convoluted process to get $4.84 back I don't know why I thought the feedback process would be smooth, streamlined and efficient. The other thing about all these processes is that the work onus is on the customer not on the service provider.  There is a benefit to Australia Post, so that's something.

I knew it was going to be weird when I had to go through an identification process to have the feedback conversation!  I refrained from asking the one question that was on my mind: why?

Good things about myki & myki mysteries

I travelled into zone 2 yesterday on the train.  I had a zone one 7 day myki pass on my myki card.  It was great to be able to get to the other end and just touch off my myki and see it deduct the little bit extra for the trip in zone 2.  I didn't have to buy an "extension ticket" or do anything else.

That's something good about myki.

I catch public transport whenever I can, including when working for clients.  Keeping track of travel expenses and GST on the old Metcard system would have been a nighmare, to the point where I probably wouldn't have bothered, or I would  have driven my car and claimed that cost back.  I love the fact that with a registered myki card I can print a tax invoice of all my travel transactions, making it easy to claim GST and business related expenses.

That's something good about myki.

I only need one card to travel, rather than carrying a poker hand of paper cards to suit a variety of travel situations. (Although used tickets did make good book marks.)

That's something good about myki.

When I lost my myki, because it was registered I was able to get the money back.  (Even though they had to issue me with a new card to do it.  The process to get the money put to one of my existing cards - which I hadn't lost - involved filling in forms; whereas getting the money back on a new card could be done over the phone.)

The first bit - that's something good about myki.

How come online top up of myki isn't instant, but auto -top up - which you set up online - is?

That's one of the myki mysteries.

How come people vandalise the machines and readers making them hard to use?

That's one of the myki mysteries (or maybe it's just a mystery).

How come Qantas can give me an electronic bag tag which knows who I am and where I'm going and check me in in seconds, but myki has to be held just-so in order to work?

That's one of the myki mysteries.

How come a new exit at platform two at Seddon Station was installed a year ago and it's still locked up?  I watched a large number of men dig a hole and the open a space in the fence. A little while later two posts were installed for the myki readers.  Then they closed the hole in the fence and the myki readers were never attached to the posts.  Everyone still has to squeeze out of the tiny and poorly designed exit during peak time as everyone has to use two machines, rendered unreadable by sun glare and vandalism.

"Exit" at Seddon Station.
Those black posts are supposed to have myki readers on them.
© divacultura 2013

That's one of the myki mysteries.  And I still don't know what went into the hole.  I wonder if it was the architect of  myki?

That's one of the myki mysteries.

Wouldn't it be great if you could use your myki to pay when you use Melbourne City Council blue bike to get around the city?

Yes it would!

Why can't I buy a myki pass for 8 to 27 days, but am locked into 7 days or 28 or more days?

That's one of the myki mysteries.


Why do people insist on touching off on trams in the city?

That's NOT one of the myki mysteries.  All of the messaging says "When travelling with myki, don't forget to touch on AND touch off".  Some of the messaging adds "to make sure you get the lowest fare". Of course people are still touching off on trams - it's crazy to expect commuters to learn different processes for using a ticket depending on what kind of vehicle they are in!

Where do the dead myki cards go?  I really hope they can be melted down and made into something handy.

That's one of the myki mysteries.

I tried really hard to come up with more things that are great about myki, but I couldn't really think of any.  Can you?

Why aren't there lots of good things about myki?

That's one of the myki mysteries.