01 February 2005
Breaking the bank
Queries also in for a short piece on traditional pastimes in Hong Kong, which although not up to much is better than much else I've done of late. The editor who usually looks after me has been promoted to a higher place, and is away in Mexico to boot. So the queries come in from some one else, by email. This may be because I've made it clear that rather than deal with his doltish manners over the phone I'll stop writing for the paper in question. Of course, this should make no difference since my work isn't particularly important, and there are dozens to step into my place. As usual, there are lots of minor improvements that an intelligent fresh eye can always bring. There's the usual conversion of 'mynah to 'myna', and since I say 'usual' I suppose I must have used it before and been equally put off by the second spelling. I see Webster's has it, and perhaps Canada has gone the American way on that (if on little else, by its own account). On the other hand the Canadian dictionary used as the reference there is being replaced with Canadian Oxford any day now.
A passing reference to Macbeth was messed up by someone who obviously didn't recognise it. So I had that reinstated but in quotes to make it clear, and couldn't help but smile a little wryly. One of the stupidest things anyone can do is to set himself up as an undisputed arbiter in the world of proof reading and fact checking, refuse to be questioned, and be aggressive about it. Unsurprisingly, people will laugh at you behind your back, and avoid dealing with you wherever possible.
A magazine turned up from Japan (and a cheque, too, finally, for the last two stories) with a short piece on Stuart Island, slightly tamed for the Japanese audience, but with a very apt and well-executed illustration that made me smile.
I should really be getting a couple more pieces finished off before I leave for the Antarctic, but I'm doing bits of admin (and this) instead. I'm ill-prepared for this trip. The Antarctic part isn't a problem: once the ship is boarded all the material will arrive by itself, both in terms of the ship's itinerary, and in terms of lectures and films provided on board with a far greater provision of back-up material than I can usually obtain.
It's more Buenos Aires, Ushuaia, and (possibly) a side trip to Uruguay which may be problematic. There's no hope of any assistance from local tourism authorities. The Argentinians don't even answer their email.
But getting any sense out of GAP Adventures, the organisers, is next to impossible either. You'd think when a company bombards you with press releases, finally attracting your attention to cover one of its trips, then issuing an invitation to join it, that it would continue to do everything to make sure that you can get the stories you need, and that your good opinion is retained. In fact this seems blindingly obvious to everyone except, very often, the tour companies themselves. In response to enquiries into time at Ushuaia I was given bland assurances that there was plenty of time to get wherever I wanted and they would help arrange it. But in fact I now see we arrive in the evening one day, are taken around the Tierra del Fuego National Park the next morning, then board the ship and leave in the afternoon. So in order to visit the prison, lighthouse, etc., I'll have to abandon the park tour, which is far less likely to provide material for an article. But it still isn't clear.
I'm trying to make arrangements to meet up with the photographer in Ushuaia, but even working out what hotels we're going to be in isn't easy. GAP can't even answer a question on electricity availability on the ship without being asked twice, so I've given up. But the photographer has given me an email address for a GAP representative in Ushuaia, so I'm trying to get more information from him.
In the meantime it seems that GAP has taken another journalist on the same ship who has published a piece in the direct competitor paper to the one who has commissioned me. Intelligent PR people are supposed to ensure that this kind of thing doesn't happen. In general, travel editors don't like to run features similar to those which have just appeared in their competitors' publications.
Other trivia: renew the annual travel insurance, get a new circular polarizing filter for one of my lenses.
Another few riveting days in the life of someone with the perfect job.
Oh, and today I was transferring some cash to pay a bill, with little time left to spare. I needed to make two $500 withdrawals. I put in my card, asked for $500, and was told the machine had no $10 bills, so I must enter a sum which could be made up with $20 bills.
I rubbed my eyes, and read this again slowly.
Then I asked for $500 once more, and got the same message.
A voice at my elbow, far too close for courtesy where ATM use is involved, said, with a heavy, comic-opera Cantonese accent, "No ten dollar bill! Change amount!"
"I can read English, thank you."
The dapper little Chinese old gentleman was unabashed and peered at the screen once more.
"No ten dollar bill. Try different amount!"
"I CAN READ ENGLISH, thank you. And the sum I'm asking for IS divisible by $20."
"Try different amount."
Since I'd already concluded there was no other choice, I tried $400.
The machine whirred and thought about it a bit.
Then it opened and regurgitated $400 entirely made up of the $10 bills it claimed not to have. Since this was a larger wedge of cash than it could deal with, some of it had to be levered out.
I tried again for $500, and again was told it had no $10 bills, and I needed to choose a different sum divisible by $20.
I tried $400 again with the same result, hooking in my fingers to force out the notes, and building up a small tower of $10 bills on the edge of the machine.
I went for the final $200, but partway through lost patience, only to have difficulty persuading the machine to let me cancel the transaction.
"Why you take so many ten dollar?" said the voice at my elbow.
I left, pockets bulging, before I could get violent.
After I'd visited two other banks just in time to get my business done, I returned to the first, and went to the reception desk.
"I want to make a complaint about your ATM."
"What seems to be the problem?"
I explained crisply, but in some detail the machine's mental and physical difficulties with giving out the sums required.
But the flunky had switched into "Customer Care Lesson 7--How to defuse complaints", which recent experience has shown me involves simply agreeing with the customer without actually listening to a word he's saying.
"The machine only allows limited withdrawals for security reasons," he began. "You see, we've had one or two problems with theft..."
I cut him off. "You haven't actually listened to anything I've said," I said, and explained again that all I was asking the machine to do was to perform its usual function of giving me a limited sum, and that it was currently both unable to do basic arithmetic ("I assume you realise that $500 can be prepared using only $20 notes?") and physically unsuited to deliver the sums in $10 notes (which it claimed not to have) that it was trying to do.
Eventually I was offered a refund on the ATM charges, and it was agreed that it might be best to have a look at the machine, although as I left nobody made any move to do so.
An anecdote with nothing to do with travel writing, and only peripherally anything to do with China.
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