Saturday, July 31, 2010

What's the password?

I hate passwords, it's no secret that I find it extremely difficult to remember a string of numbers, symbols, letters and random squirrel sounds in the right order so I inevitably end up:
a) writing them down somewhere (which apparently defeats the purpose) or
b) locking myself out of my computer, cellphone or bank account
I'm sure I would manage if it was only one, but I'm confronted with "enter username/password/pin" at least 4 times a day.I can see myself standing at the corner of some busy crossroad in Johannesburg with a sign "Family to feed, forgotten pin, please help"

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Where is summer?

A weather search crisply informs us that in South Africa winter starts on 1 May and ends on 31 July. Just like that; the seasons are supposed to fit neatly into our season boxes. People assume that South Africa is warm, in fact the biggest economic boost we got from the World Cup was all the tourists buying jackets and beanies to survive the matches.
As a tropical child I take exception to winter. In Lusaka the minimum temperature is 15C, which is far more suitable for humans than Johannesburg's regular forays into the minus zone.My garden looks like a death zone from the black frost and the labradors have given up trying to excavate their way to Australia because of the permafrost layer.I can't for the life of me understand why people actually venture outside at night in winter. Most places look like a Michelin Man convention at night.
Of course real summer doesn't get here until December, this is why I have a firm rule about not swimming in an outdoor swimming pool before Christmas day.
I'd like to make a request to the relevant authorities to update their search information: Winter in Johannesburg lasts from March to November. The other months are (in order) warm, decent, decent, cool.

Oh joy. Another update

All these software updates are starting to wear me down. Just when you think you might make the end of the month with enough "broadband" for once you switch on the computer to be greeted with: Click here to download updates.
In June it was the iTunes and iPhone software update. Version 4.0. We duly trotted off to buy more "airtime" on our ADSL line so that I could do the update.
Then Apple released the iPhone 4. After a while, when people started complaining about not being able to make actual phone calls Apple retaliated by saying all their customers were essentially stupid and were holding the phone wrong. Put it between your feet, idiots, then find a tall building, do a headstand on top and make your call. Eventually they admitted they had a problem with the antenna and that it applied to all their phones. Well, actually everyone's phones (which isn't true - Walter has Bob now and Bob shows 3g signal when I can't get any off the iPhone)
So they released a software update to fix the problem (Question: if the antenna is not good enough, how will software fix it?) iPhone 4.0.1
It took me 9 hours plus a trip to buy more ADSL to download that update. I actually think the solution is far, far simpler
When I plugged in my iPhone yesterday a new message popped up: iTunes version 9.2.1.5 is available. Download?

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Don't make eye contact. Ever

This basic rule has served me well for many years. Tired of random strangers oversharing? Don't make eye contact, let them pick on some other person.
And so I found myself in a great little cafe in London (she said, pretentiously) where they sell cameras and coffee and you can get free wireless if you eat or drink. Or buy a camera, I guess, but that wasn't why I was there.My intention was to pick up my email on my netbook, download any updates I needed and generally have some quiet time.
I made it obvious. Earphones in the iPhone, eyes glued to the screen. I ordered the iced coffee (really, it was hot and humid) when the chap at the table next to me said "South African accent if I'm not mistaken" I ignored him, pretending to type something deep and meaningful. He persisted, raising his voice slightly "I say, are you from South Africa?" Feeling a little like a deer in the headlights I made the mistake of making eye contact.
It took me 2 hours to get away, I didn't get to read any emails and I can now tell you that the source of any crime in the UK (apart from the government) is the (insert foreign nationals) who apparently have 10 children each with the sole intention of teaching them to pickpocket to support their families. And the vuvuzela is a dreadful instrument, which will ultimately lead to the downfall of all civilised society. 

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The thing about long-distance travel….

I'm not entirely convinced that I'm suited to intercontinental travel anymore. It sounds blasé, but quite frankly having 3 square inches of personal space for 11 hours is not my idea of fun. Navigating the rabbit warren that is Heathrow 2010 with a demented trolley having had perhaps 20 minutes of sleep is an experience I'd sooner not repeat.

Not to sound ungrateful, but I've done London. In a previous life I worked as cabin crew for SAA. I worked out (after backpacking around Greece for 6 months) that if you work for the airline they put you up in 5 star hotels, give you money while you're there and you get to see the world while pretending you're working. You also get to sleep in the crew rest, which allows you to stretch out properly, even if it is only for 2 hours.

I've discovered that I'm not very good as a passenger either. I need to walk around from time to time, but getting past the walrus in the aisle seat while the passenger in front drops their seat-back to sleep position requires contortionist skills I appear to lack.

Then there's my whole distrust of airbus thing. Quite apart from the fact that I believe it was designed by someone entirely lacking design skills, it needs a computer to stay in the air. It's ugly, uncomfortable and not terribly good at gliding. Sometimes the computer decides it shouldn't stay in the air and so it doesn't. I am partial to the Boeing 747 design, they're pretty, have 4 engines, and can glide.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

The Great Trek

I find it's best, if you're travelling overseas, to be at the airport around 15 hours prior to departure.
This allows you to:
  1. Go back home to fetch the ticket/passport/suitcase you left at the front door
  2. Have sufficient time to find your way around the duty-free shopping zone
And thus it was that Walter and I got to the Gautrain station at around 15h45 so that I wouldn't miss my flight to London at 20h20
Scientist no 1 called to say she could be there by 16h00 (yes, we do use the military time words, it's a Zambian thing) When she wasn't there by 16h01 I obviously called to see where she was.The first time she ignored my call so I called back 5 minutes later.

S#1: I said I'd see you at 17h00
Me: You definitely said 16h00
S#1: I'll be there in 10 minutes

Walter practised doing the splits on the shiny tiles while I tried to figure out where the bus stops were from the hazy map and stop dodgy tourists who clearly wanted to steal the suitcase. (Did I remember to bring the suitcase key?)

She finally got there and we all hugged multiple times and then I did the very cosmopolitan thing of waving goodbye to my family at a train station in Johannesburg. (Scientist No2 didn't come to the station, he's going through an extremely independent phase and doesn't get the whole big farewell thing. I think he thinks we are all nuts anyway)

The thing with the Gautrain is that it runs 97 kilometres underground. You have to take 52 different escalators to get to the platform (well, at least 4) and then try and look as if this is an everyday thing when you finally get there.

The trip was uneventful apart from all the locals saying "Where exactly is Rhodesfield anyway, I've never even heard of it" and before you know it you're at the airport.

There was a group of people doing the diski dance at OR Tambo, I almost joined in I was so excited. Then I remembered I'm a Woman of the World and clearly such childishness would be beneath me.

Off to the duty-free....

Sunday, July 4, 2010

14 Tequila shots and a quad bike....

A few years ago I was invited on a quad bike trip through the Transkei. I said yes immediately, signed the 15-page waiver without reading it, kissed Walter and children goodbye and leaped onto the aeroplane to East London without a second thought.
Images of long white beaches, tranquil walks, good food and wine and lots of laughs filled my head. Perfect I thought I need a beach break.
It never once crossed my mind that I'd actually have to ride a quad bike to get there.
Which is why, when we arrived at the picturesque hotel on the beach at Kei Mouth I tossed my bag at the nearest man and took myself off to find the beach bar.
 I was soon put right. Dropping my bag next to one of the bikes he said (a little tersely, I thought) "Take this one, it's automatic, so you won't have to figure out the foot gears" I decided not to take this as an insult, I would show them I could do this as well as any man. I can fly a plane for heaven's sake.
They gave us 2 seconds of instruction and we set off through the bush and backroads and trails of the Transkei.We even did some beaches
Eventually they put me in the front, to slow these 2 down and to keep an eye on me since I kept getting lost. But really, 9 hours to get to the hotel and a near-death experience with a donga made me realise that a quad bike is not the best way to go. Although you do get to see places you wouldn't in a 4x4
When we eventually arrived at the hotel and were allowed to find the bar 2 of us formed an alliance and went on strike. We informed them we wouldn't be riding anywhere the next day, but would stay put.
Our crafty tequila-shot competition that evening also proved we could outdrink anyone there. The secret to this, of course, is to bribe the barman to give you shot glasses of water (but they must have the real thing)- and then proceed to drink 14 in a row. Works like a charm.



Saturday, July 3, 2010

Dear Vodacom....

With a new phone you expect certain things - the learning curve is part of the fun. With the iPhone, however, I also had to change service providers.
I tried not to, but the others had gone about their business blithely ignoring the iPhone phenomenon so I really had no choice.

The experience has been harrowing. Firstly I had to give the other service provider notice. This involved daily calls, emails and a declaration of war. They conceded, then promptly billed me for another month.
This was nothing compared to the joy I was in for.

I sometimes use my cellphone for work. My employer pays for those calls, but obviously I need to provide them with proof. The first account arrived with no information on it. I called them.
Me: "Do you do itemised billing?"
Them: "Yes ma'am, just enable it on our website and it'll all be done for you"
Me: "Fabulous, thank you for all your help"

And that's where the fun began...there are two websites, so once I'd got past the registration (that took a week and almost required a letter from Walter giving me permission to run my own accounts) I called them to ask where, exactly, I would find the box to tick for itemised billing.
Them: "You're on the wrong website"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Them: "Yes, we're migrating to that website, you need to do it on the old website"
Me: "And where will I find that?"
Them: "Vodacom4me"
Me: "Thank you"
And so I ticked the box, imported all 1,000 of my contacts and waited.

The next invoice arrived. Just a list of telephone numbers. By now I was starting to fray around the edges.
Me: "I don't see the names on my invoice.
Them: "Do you have personalised itemised billing?"
Me: "What's that?"
Them (sighing): "You need that to get the names included"
Me: "That's what I need, how do I do it?"
Them: "You need to tick it on the website"
Me: "Hmm"
And so I did.

The next invoice duly arrived, sans names. 15 pages of random numbers, no names. I gritted my teeth and called the "help" line
Me: "You appear to have left the contact names off my invoice"
Them: "Do you have personalised itemised billing?"
Me: "Yes"
Them: "Have you enabled the box for showing the names?"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Them: "You need to click on all the names you want shown so that the system knows to show them"
Me: "Hahaha, that's funny, you almost had me there"
Them: "Excuse me?"

And so I have spent an entire month individually enabling each contact (26 pages, 30 contacts per page, 7 clicks per contact)

From time to time the site crashes. The first 9 or 10 times I submitted a screenshot to them to try and help them sort it out.

Me: "Your website crashes after I've been on it for 15 minutes"
Them: "Ja, I know, it, like, overheats or something. Just wait a while and try again"
Me: Sigh

The person who designed the system should be hanged, drawn and quartered.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

The border collie can relax

As chief chocolate-rationer I was a little concerned yesterday when I realised the chocolate cupboard was bare. This is not a trifling matter; the border collie can sniff out chocolate at 60 paces and what I don't need at the office is a disgruntled border collie.

Fortunately I won this huge box of chocolates, so we are safe for a little while.