Wasting time

The flat at Canary Wharf has been without the Internet this week. The hub is unable to make a connection though it keeps valiantly trying. After trying a solution over the phone with Mirinda, it was decided I’d go to the flat and call BT. That was yesterday before our lunch. It was not very effective and so I returned today. The flat is STILL without the Internet and will probably still be so until Monday.

Yesterday I rang BT. The first Indian chap was slightly helpful. After explaining everything to him (I told him the hub was working but couldn’t get a connection which, to me, indicated the problem was on their side) he took me through the usual turn off and on, decable/recable, try and access via the netbook, yadda, yadda, yadda before he decided it was probably a line problem. He tested the line and claimed it was fine.

He asked me if the hub was plugged into the main line or an extension. I told him I assumed it was the main point because it was in the main room, the other line being in the bedroom. He seemed satisfied with this. As a possible solution, he put me through to the telephone department. To my surprise the phone was answered by a non-Indian woman. She was extremely helpful – the fact that I could understand her clearly and succinctly was a big point in her favour – but, sadly, couldn’t trace any problem via the telephone line. She sent me back to the main call centre which I can only assume is in Calcutta.

The next Indian chap I spoke to had no idea what my problem was so I went through everything again and he told me to do everything the first guy had already taken me through. When he asked me if the hub was plugged into the main point I asked him how I could tell the difference. Immediately he asked me if the point had two screws in it.

I’m not sure how else it could be attached to the wall (nails? glue, perhaps?) but I politely said yes. he then asked me if they were across the middle or down the bottom. I was stunned. Who the hell would invent a point which only screwed at the bottom…or the top for that matter? It would hardly be secure. Anyway, I only thought that and told him the point in the lounge had two screws across the centre. Satisfied, he told me this was the main point.

Eventually (we were on the phone for a good half hour) his best advice was to give it 24 hours and see if it righted itself. I was silent for a bit. I then asked him if BT broadband was controlled by happenstance but he didn’t understand me.

Speaking of which, he also told me to swap the ADSL filters for, what sounded like ‘automatic’ ones. I asked him what they were as I’d never heard of them. He then went to great lengths to explain to me what an ADSL filter was. I managed to stop him, explaining that I did, in fact, know what an ADSL filter was but had never heard of an ‘automatic’ one. He told me I should get some and swap them for the existing ones.

After a lot of exasperating queries about where I could obtain an ‘automatic’ ADSL filter, I suddenly realised he meant ‘alternate’ as in a different one. When the light dawned I said as much and suggested he use the word ‘different’ in future. He was then very confused. I can only think he hadn’t heard the word ‘different’ before and perhaps has no idea what a ‘different’ ADSL filter is.

I didn’t have long to argue with him about the 24 hour thing because I was meeting Mirinda for lunch so I told him BT has a cheek to charge for a non-existent Internet connection, which he also failed to understand, and telling him he hadn’t been very helpful, I hung up.

And so, this morning I set off, once more, for Canary Wharf. To think that only last week I was thinking how good it would be to have a couple of weeks not travelling up to town, given the repairs at the Science Museum.

I arrived at 11 and, checking that the hub was still struggling to come to terms with it’s failed relationship with a BT connection, rang them again. Of course, the Indian chap I spoke to tried to take me through everything again until I stopped him by explaining what had already transpired, to which he said “Yes, I can see on your account that you rang yesterday.” Why he didn’t mention that at the start, I do not know.

He was actually quite helpful though after every sentence he repeated the phrase “I am very sorry you are having a bad experience with BT today.” Not that I think he was reading this, or anything. After this call I took the BT Experience survey and it asks whether the operator I spoke to seemed concerned with my problem and wanted to try and fix it for me. Clearly this was a problem so they told the operators to sound more caring. It doesn’t really work if the operator keeps repeating exactly the same thing each time!

We did reach a solution of sorts. He told me he would get straight onto the technical department and get them to fix my problem. he would ring me back in five minutes. Which he did. He told me they would investigate and get back to me between 3 and 4 this afternoon. He took my mobile number after I said I’d be there but would need to go out and get some lunch.

Guess when the technical department rang? Yep, as soon as I left the building and entered a dead spot, they rang. They left a message because I didn’t answer due to having no signal. When I replayed the message it was unrecognisable as language, let alone English. I rang back on the number left by him. This number went through to a recorded message which said “You were called today by one of our technicians. Please ring the BT helpline.” Very helpful.

So, I rang them again. Another Indian chap who tried to go through everything again until I stopped him and said I’d received a message and was just wanting to know what it was because it was in some long dead language used by the Neanderthals. he didn’t understand the word ‘Neanderthals’ but said he’d check with the technical department. It was just gone 1pm and he said he’d call back by 2.

At 1:30 he rang to say that the technical department were unable to fix the problem and he’d send an engineer out. I sighed. We arranged for him to come out on Monday between 1 and 6. So, another trip to Canary Wharf is in the offing. It all rather reminded me of the problems we had at Christmas in Kawana Island.

By the way, the point in the bedroom also has two screws across the centre. So maybe they’re both the main one!

One bright point was the Tube train that announced at every station we stopped at that it wasn’t stopping at the next station because it was closed. None of them were.