Mr. Topp and the Big Bad Blog

Timeline: Monday. August 9, 2010. 5:30 pm. Your intrepid blogger is logging off of his work machine. He grabs his yet-to-be-worn bicycle helmet, descends via the stairs, and crosses the street. There, he puts his key into the lock mechanism for one of the bicycles that forms part of London’s new cycle hire scheme.

The light on the mechanism turns amber. It is reading the key.

It turns red. No go.

Attempt number two — perhaps the key was upside-down. Amber … Red.

Perhaps it is this bicycle, or this lock. Another. Amber … Red.

As your blogger tries a third bicycle, to the same effect, a woman walks up, makes an attempt, and experiences the same problem. Perhaps it is this entire set of bicycles that is problematic. A quick look at the map reveals another stand around the corner. A short trek and … Amber … Red.

I have signed up for the annual membership — but it does not begin until I first access the network. Perhaps, I think, the network is down. Luckily, a smart phone is in my pocket, and moments later I see that my key is ACTIVE. Membership expires on August 9, 2011 @ 17:39.

Well, these locks are certainly communicating with the mothership. The mothership just isn’t talking back.

So there your blogger stands, helmet on, trouser leg tied close so as not to interfere with an expected bicycle chain. Stylish, in the extreme. But plans? Dashed.

Hoping that this was just a glitch your intrepid blogger lodged a complaint, and waited to see what would transpire the next day …

Timeline: Tuesday. August 10, 2010. 5:30 pm. Your intrepid blogger is logging off of his work machine. He grabs his yet-to-be-worn bicycle helmet, descends via the stairs, and crosses the street. There, he puts his key into the lock mechanism for one of the bicycles that forms part of London’s new cycle hire scheme.

The light on the mechanism turns amber. It is reading the key.

… it goes green!

The day is wet, so the bicycle was only used for a five minute journey. A few observations from those five minutes.

Riding a bicycle is like … riding a bicycle. No wobbling. No forgetting. Although I forgot how fast you can actually go on a bicycle.

On the other hand, riding a bicycle is different from anywhere else I have ridden a bicycle.

The last time I found myself cycling, it was 2006, and I had yet to leave Canada. Roads in North America are wide, and there is always room on the shoulder. This is not true on the Strand. Traffic stops, and the only way to get through is to either mount the pavement (which is illegal, a jerk move, and — at 5:30 pm on a Tuesday afternoon in central London — impossible to do without running someone over), or to ride in what passes for space between the two lanes of traffic.

I did the latter, and will do so again, but it was a bit strange. Did I mention I have a helmet? I will definitely continue to wear it.

Some interim final thoughts

With two attempted cycle sessions behind him, your blogger is cautiously optimistic. The prospect of cycling around London is quite exciting, but plans to make it a key part of my commute will have to wait.

A fifty percent success rate — which is where we are now — is simply not sufficiently reliable. So taking a bus to the edge of the cycle hire zone, and cycling the remainder is simply off the menu for now.

Instead, the cycles will serve as a replacement for walking, busing, or taking the tube between stops within the zone … when it works. We will see if the success rate is sufficient to warrant a change in my commuting patterns.

This is disappointing, to say the least. I am clearly part of the target group — somebody who would rather walk/cycle than use other forms of transport, and who lives close enough to my workplace to replace part of their normal commute with the bicycles. With this in mind, screwing up the initial experience is a huge mistake.

First impressions simply matter more. If I were an established user who experienced a problem one day, it would be a blip. As a first time user I now approach the entire system with caution. I am also lucky that I bought an annual subscription, rather than a daily one. Losing a day leaves me with 364 — were I a one-day purchaser, I would have used up 23 hours and 54 minutes of my 24 hour rental period before having an opportunity to actual take a bicycle.

And that is unacceptable.

The system is new, and will have growing pains, but if it is to get off to a fast start it needs to get much better at first impressions.

Travel can be hazardous. While we might like to poke a bit of fun at the questions that we are asked when crossing international boundaries, these are moments where something can go horribly wrong and your plans can fall apart in an instant.

On one end of the spectrum, you can find yourself thrown in prison and charged with a crime. For instance, doing something as innocent as packing a poppy seed bagel to eat on your trip might get you a four-year jail term in Dubai. At the other end of the spectrum is the simple denied entry. For these reasons, before travel you should always review the rules for the country (or countries) to which you are travelling, no matter how many times you have visited previously.

This was driven home to me this week, in a quite personal manner. My mother and step-father have been spending a lot of time in Switzerland lately — they had rented an apartment there, and we spent Christmas with them there. They had just taken a short trip back to Canada, and after their return to Switzerland I received this e-mail from my mother:

Well – we arrived safely in Zurich this morning, and I am now back in Bern, BUT – Tom is in JAIL~! Or rather, being held at the Zurich airport by the security police for at least one more day.

The cause of this is the Schengen Agreement. In previous trips to Switzerland, the country had not signed the agreement, which provides a set of shared entry rules for European states. But on signing it in late 2008, the rules for entering Switzerland changed. And my parents, who were acting on information from time spent living there a decade earlier, were left out in the cold. Or one of them was stuck at the airport while they figured out what to do.

Being the nearest (non-Schengen) port in a storm, Karen and I now have some surprise guests while the issues are sorted out. If you see a dip in blogging, you now know why — the room from which I blog has been transformed into a temporary bedroom.

Borders, it seems, can interfere with blogs too.

Amongst the perils of travelling, there is always the moment of entry. You hand your passport to somebody in a uniform. They look at your passport. They look at you. You briefly wonder if you look like yourself after thirteen hours on an airplane.

Probably not.

In countries where they do not speak English, this is then followed by the ritual stamping (and return) of the passport.

In countries where they do speak English, they ask questions. Perhaps this is because I’m an English speaker, so the questions will be understood. Or maybe only English-speaking countries bother with further examination. Regardless, British, Canadian and American border agents always ask me questions.

For the most part, they’re the same.

Americans ask why I’m there, and how long I’m staying.

Canadians are confused as to whether I’m visiting or returning. (Both, of course. I am returning for a visit).

Then there are the British. They ask questions that make little or no sense. After a red eye flight, with no sleep for nearly twenty-four hours, I tend to stumble over these questions. It is surprising that it has never delayed my re-entry.

On my first entry, they asked me a question about my visa application. I figured it was normal. They continued asking this question repeatedly over the next year. I was sure it was normal. In fact, one agent told me that there was a note on my file, which required them to ask this question. He took it off, and since then the questions have been more creative.

Q: “Do you still work in the same place?”
A: “…”

This one of the more common ones asked at the UK border. My visa is not tied to any particular job, so the answer does not actually matter. But the problem is that it doesn’t make sense. I work at the same job as I did when I left the country last. I work at the same job as I did when I last applied for a visa extension. I do not work at the same job as I did for the previous visa extension. Nor do I work at the same job as I did when I first applied for a UK visa.

Timelines matter. And jetlagged individuals do not deal well with non-specific questions.

Q: Why are you a resident?
A: Because I live here.

One of the answers you need to give when entering the UK on a non-EU passport is how long you are planning to stay. I do not have an answer, so I write “Resident” on the card. The border agent did not seem happy at that response. Perhaps she thought I was being cheeky, but it’s either that or “because I have a permit”. And she was looking at the permit.

Q: What qualification do you have?
A: …

The border agent literally asked that. Singular. Qualification. I thought he meant visa, so I told him. No, qualification. I told him about my bachelor’s degree. Could I have given him my project management qualification instead? Change management? Work experience? I am qualified to enter the country by virtue of the visa. I have many qualifications when it comes to the workplace.

Q: Where are you coming from today?

This question is not just asked in the UK. It is asked everywhere. And it is the hardest question to answer. Ten hours on a plane … am I coming from Toronto? Montreal? Kuala Lumpur? Atlanta? It’s hard to remember.

And if you had a connection, you might choose your original point of departure, rather than the most recent. Then the border guard is confused — no planes from that location have arrived recently.

By far the worst question for the frequent traveler. You’re wandering through an airport, following the signs towards the exit. You’ve just left a tin can where you spent the last twelve hours or so. You haven’t slept. You smell. You just want to clean yourself and sleep.

Where are you coming from?

I’m flying home today.

Here’s a bear to tide you over until normal Blogging service resumes. Click to make it bigger and scarier.