serendipity

Xav vs. the Volcano (we have a winner)

He slept for three hours, woke up early and went back down the refugee camp formerly known as Charles de Gaulle Airport, or Roissy, if you're a local. Despite the early hour, everyone else was up too. It must be hard to sleep in when people are stepping over you. 

The airline personnel were back at their posts, schedules were displayed with flights officials thought might actually leave today. Announcements came over the PA system with calming regularity.

Lines were formed. Long lines. For miles.

He went to Air France International and saw that his line was a potential problem. As early as it was, there were literally hundreds of people ahead of him. Worse, the line was not moving. He texted me "moving an inch per hour."

He waited. And waited. (Insert here long periods of waiting while absolutely nothing happens except for the low moaning of muttered anxieties and whining children with mostly legitimate complaints.) Every now and then everyone would obediently move forward the space of one person. Then more periods of nothing.

He realized that at this rate he might actually miss his plane. He left the line and took his luggage forward to investigate. He found gaps in the line, groups of people who, while probably in line, were not keeping up. He kept going until he was almost at the front. Seeing an opening, he took his chances and ducked in. Not one to normally cut in line, he waited to see if someone might object. No one did. A couple of minutes later he was at the counter, checking in his bags. Freedom was within his reach, finally.

Boarding pass in hand, he sailed through security. Well, sailed is almost certainly an exaggeration. There was a security line and he waited in it. But compared to everything else, this was smooth sailing. 

Of course, a deal is not a deal until you actually board the plane. And that really isn't a deal until the plane is "wheels up" in the sky. And when you remember that there were several planes halfway across the Atlantic who were turned around and sent back home, you understand that a deal isn't a deal until you hit the North American continent. Then, and only then, can you let your breath out.

According to FlightStats his plane just crossed the border of Wisconsin. The flight was delayed, but is now close enough to home for us all to breathe.

XAV 2, FRANCE (and the Volcano) 0

Game over.

Xav vs. the Volcano (Paris edition)

He made it to Paris. It's a miracle, really and he's quite thankful. He's been standing the whole time and his feet hurt from being stepped on by his fellow passengers. He's not actually at the airport which would have been the most convenient TGV stop. Instead he's in southern Paris and it will take another hour or so by cab to get to the airport. But he's not in the south of France, he's in Paris.

He wins.

It's a good thing too, because Air France just got around to cancelling his flight from Montpellier. They waited until 7pm the night before to finalize the deal (they were busy thinking about it), and if he'd waited for the official cancellation he'd still be in the south. And it would be too late.

He steps off the train and into a brasserie over the railway station. He treats himself to some fois gras and a glass of St. Emillion and starts to feel like himself once again. The feeling returns to his feet. He takes a picture, sends it to me with a "Wish you were here." For once, I'm glad I'm not. Even for St Emillion, Paris and fois gras.

 

Paris gare restau

Restored, more or less, he leaves the tranquility of the brasserie for the taxi line in front of the TGV. Just like taxi lines everywhere, he has no control over his ride - it's taxi roulette. And he loses.

The guy who picks him up doesn't speak English or French. He barely knows how to drive a car but claims to know how to get to the airport. A few minutes into the ride a pedestrian jaywalks off the curb. The taxi hits him with a side mirror and drives over the guy's foot. Did you know that over 1000 pedestrians are killed every year in Paris? I saw that once in a public service announcement in France. The taxi doesn't stop even though legally he's required to. The taxi driver slows, looks at the guy in his review mirror, Xav looks too. He can see the wounded pedestrian jumping up and down on one foot and cursing. The taxi driver makes his decision and drives away.

Clearly the taxi guy doesn't really know or care about the rules. He doesn't even know how to drive. The situation could have been much worse if the traffic hadn't intervened. Suddenly they are driving 5 miles an hour in the worst midnight traffic Xav has ever seen. There are no accidents, no detours, just people. People in cars. Driving 5 miles an hour.

To the airport.

Years later they finally arrive at the airport, older and wiser, and more or less in one piece. Xav grabs his luggage and enters the largest refugee camp he's ever seen (and we just got back from Santiago).

It's one o'clock in the morning. There are, of course, no airport personnel. No announcements, no schedules, no help of any kind. There is nothing but people. Sleeping people, everywhere. Every chair is filled and the floor is covered with people trying to rest. They've obviously been there for days. Families. Business people. Tourists. Humans of all flavors from all walks of life. And they all want the same thing, to get the hell out of Paris.

Xav is one of the lucky ones. He has managed to land a small hotel room near the airport for the night. For a few hours at least, he will have a bed.

Tomorrow he will wake up and discover whether the good luck they had today (planes actually flew) will hold. The news is non-stop about a new ash cloud that is poised to cover Paris in 48 hours. He gets an update from his gallery clients, who have been trying to get out of Paris since last Thursday. They have just today been issued new plane tickets - for NEXT TUESDAY.

He needs the planes to fly tomorrow. The airport must stay open so that Air France flight 84 can get the hell out of Dodge.

Xav vs. the Volcano (TGV edition)

In typical French fashion the TGV railway workers went on strike just as spring break was starting and, coincidently, Xav was landing in France for a business trip. The train employees, who are pretty much employed for life and unhelpful on the best of days, caused the immediate cancellation of 50% of the high speed trains. The result was fist fights for seats and a complete lack of cooperation from everyone involved - workers and travelers alike. 

And this was before the volcano.

You would think that some of the railway workers' goodwill might resurface when faced with the terrible plight of thousands of displaced travelers across Europe, but no. Only yesterday, 13 days into the strike, did they say that maybe, just maybe, they would go back to work. But they're not sure yet. They're still thinking about it.

Enter our intrepid hero, Xav. He knows that if he has any chance of making it home before next week a number of things have to happen: the Paris airport must reopen. Air France flight 84 must fly. And somehow, some way he must get to Paris from Nimes. Getting on flight 84 is critical. If he misses it or it doesn't take off, he becomes one of the thousands of displaced masses. People with reservations on future flights still have the priority, so if his plane takes off he MUST be on it.

Originally he was supposed to fly to Paris from Montpellier but the only planes authorized to fly must do so above 20,000 feet. That means the national flights and the local airports are still grounded and closed. Maybe they'll open tomorrow. Maybe. They're still thinking about it. Go ask Eyjafjallajökull.

That leaves the TGV. The on-strike, overbooked, crowded and uncooperative TGV. Xav texted me last night to say that he was going to make a run for it. Even if he couldn't get a ticket. He would board the train and ride until they threw him off.

The car ride to the train station was action packed, filled with detours, car blockades, red light running and a last-minute dash on foot. It was right out of James Bond. Good thing he's been working out. He made the train with 2 minutes to spare and texted me this:

"XAV 1, FRANCE 0, first half"

Today's Paris -> SFO flight left four hours late, but it did fly. I am, officially cautiously optimistic. I don't know if he has a train ticket which means I don't know that he won't get thrown off halfway to Paris. 

Stay tuned for the next episode of "Dramatic Escape From Paris." The next installment will either take place at a random railway stop in the middle of France, or Paris itself.  

 

Cargill's spin machine

Is being countered by Save the Bay's fact checkers. Have I said recently how much I love these guys? I really do.

So that you can love them too, I'm going to reprint the letter they sent me yesterday:

 

Dear Karen,

Recent blog posts by Cargill's Redwood City developer DMB state, "there’s been a lot of misinformation and half-truths being circulated out there." No kidding. Openly concerned about the attention being paid to their unprecedented plans to build a new city in the Bay, the increasingly desperate developer is clumsily attempting to erase many simple and inconvenient facts by claiming that they are "myths."

The evidence is overwhelmingly to the contrary.

Did Cargill not tell their Arizona-based development partner basic facts about their Bay property? You be the judge:

1) Astonishingly, Cargill’s developer claims it is a “myth” that the site “was diked off from tidal action to create salt evaporation ponds.” This property is former tidal marsh, diked off from the Bay to make salt. Is there another way to make a salt pond? Just look at this 1943 aerial photograph.

2) DMB says it is a "myth" that site is located within a FEMA flood plain. Apparently they have not seen Redwood City’s General Plan (Redwood City General Plan Map, page BE-54).

3) Cargill’s developer refuses to admit that the Redwood City salt ponds are the largest unprotected stretch of restorable bay shoreline because, they say, the site “is privately owned by Cargill.” Yet the fact that these salt ponds remain in private ownership defines why they need protection from development.

4) DMB asserts that the current zoning for the site “anticipates future development proposals.” In fact, Redwood City’s General Plan states of the Cargill salt ponds: “Due to the sensitive nature of these open space areas, it should be assumed that they will remain as open space forever.” These salt ponds have never been zoned for housing.

5) Cargill’s developer also calls a “myth” the fact that state and federal laws prohibit filling wetlands when alternatives are available. But nobody contests that fact. The US EPA recently called these salt ponds “a critically important aquatic resource that warrant special attention” (EPA letter, Jan. 5, 2010). And Cargill has filed documents with the US Army Corps calling the site "waters of the US" protected by the Clean Water Act.

Cargill is running ads on TV and in newspapers telling the Bay Area public that this site is “a century-old industrial facility.” Does this look like an industrial facility to you?

The developer threatens that the only choice is to approve their massive development, otherwise Cargill will continue making salt. Nobody is telling them not to keep making salt; it is their legal right to do so. But Cargill has already made clear that salt harvesting is no longer economically viable in Redwood City (Paul Shepherd, Cargill Land Manager, letter to Redwood City residents, 2006).

Just as Redwood City voters prevented Bair Island from being developed a generation ago, Cargill’s development must be stopped so that – like Bair Island – it can be added to the Don Edwards SF Bay National Wildlife Refuge and restored to tidal wetlands to benefit people and wildlife.

For more photos and documentation behind the real facts, please click here.

Sincerely,

Stephen Knight
Save The Bay Political Director
510.452.9261

Making me beg for it

I'm a fan of Adobe's online PDF maker and have used it several times - in fact I tend to use it once every month or two for the shop. Today I discovered that I have been using a trial version, that the trial is over and now I need to subscribe.

So I try to subscribe.

The subscribe link sends me to their main store page where there are lots of things to buy. Shiny confusing products, bundles of offers, none of which is the one I want. Now, if I were working for Adobe and had a hot lead pressing my "subscribe" button I'm pretty sure that link would go straight to a shopping cart where the product would be automatically added. Or at least it would go to a product page where I could ask them "are you sure you want to buy this?" so that they could. Not Adobe. They like mystery.  So I start to surf around the store and as I'm doing this, their online support bot pops up and asks me if I need help. Well yes, I suppose I do. So it connects me with Alvin.

Alvin is probably a nice enough fellow but sadly, he's not very helpful. I explain my desire to subscribe to the online PDF-making service they offered to me for $9.99/month. What does Alvin want to charge me for the so-secret-you'll-never-find-it-on-your-own product? $14.99/month.

Huh? He sends me a link for Acrobat.com the new online product that makes PDFs and So Much More. Way more than I need. More than I want to pay for.

Uh, no.

Adobe offered me a product for $9.99 and that's what I want to pay. No, I don't actually care if you've changed your pricing without updating your site. This is the advertised price and the price I would like to pay. Alvin gives me the number of customer support, confesses to being totally unhelpful and hangs up.

Thanks, Alvin.

I call customer support and wade through the most ridiculous phone tree. Since apparently their call volume is out of control they offer to call me back in 30 minutes. In 80 minutes they finally do. Except no. Once I answer the phone and confirm that I am in fact, who I say I am, they put me on hold for another 23 minutes. Man do they have some awful hold music. Like Yanni on Quaaludes awful.

Of course, while I was waiting for them to call back I signed up for a new trial, created my PDF and finished my project. And I could have called it quits right there I suppose, but since I use this product kind of regularly, it seemed that subscribing would still be the right thing to do. So I wait to get on the phone with Rahua who looks up my info, confirms that I am who I am, then asks me to wait while he does research. He comes back on the line to tell me that he cannot help me, he is the wrong person. He is support, he can only help me AFTER I subscribe. "You need to talk to sales." I protest. I tell him I've been waiting to talk to him for almost two hours now, I don't want to wait any more. He assures me I won't have to wait. "If I transfer you, you won't have to wait." This turns out to be true.

I get on the phone with Sales Guy. He confirms that I am who I am and that I can't buy what I want. He acknowledges that they've "been trying to get someone to remove that page for a while" because they've been getting calls "all day long for days about it." We talk about truth in advertising. He wants to know if I'm willing to buy Acrobat 9 for $300 because then I can make all the PDFs I want and So Much More. I explain that I run a small business and that price actually represents an investment to me. What I really want is to pay $9.99/month for the limited product they offered me. That they would still offer to me if I got back on their site RIGHT NOW and clicked "online PDF maker." 

Sales Guy turns out to be a nice guy. A nice, totally helpless guy who gets his ass chewed by irate customers all day long.

Yes Adobe knows there is a problem.

Yes, they should stop advertising this price.

No, I can't even give you a discount because the only people who can give discounts are the people in customer support but the customer support people get confused about this and send everyone back to sales. Where we can do nothing.

"I hear this every single day."

Wow, Sales Guy "your life really sucks, doesn't it?" Yes, I really said that. Sales Guy laughs bitterly. I say "I have worked in the valley for 25 years, I know Adobe people, they're not stupid, or at least they didn't use to be. Are you really telling me that at the end of this 2.5 hour drama my choices are to pay $14.99 for a product I don't need, or $300 for a product I can't afford, but I can't pay $9.99 for the product you advertised?"

"That's what I'm saying."

Okay then, Sales Guy. I think we're done here.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Cue: peals of laughter. "No, you've done quite enough. Goodbye."  

The back of the boat

 

Stand up, watch my balance and pull out some line.

Roll cast the line in front of me, to make the line straight.

Pick the line up in the air and cast back.

False cast forward, using my hand to pull out more line.

Back cast one more time.

Wait for the line to load.

(Wait, wait. Not yet. Okay now!)

Forward cast, let the fly drop on the water, just below the bank.

Perfect.

Mend the line to keep a natural-looking drift.

Where is my fly?

There.

End of the drift.

Pick up the line, back cast.

Forward cast too soon.

Thwack!

Hook the fly in the back of my hat (I love my hat).

Remove the fly, check it and throw it in the water.

Roll cast the line to make it straight.

Pick up the line, false cast and let out more line.

Wait on the back cast - patience, patience, then forward.

Lay the line on the water, softly, softly.

Mend.

Perfect.

End of drift.

Pick up the line to cast again.

False cast and remove the line that is wrapped around my bag - with the line still moving through the air. Give myself two points for not blowing the cast.

Put the fly down on the far side of the riffle.

Mend, drift, watch as the fly goes underwater.

A dry fly under water is bad. 

Pick up the line, try to cast again. Notice I am stepping on the line. Remove my foot and discover more line wrapped around the anchor. The fly line falls limp in the water behind me as I unravel the mess.

Roll cast to straighten the line. Cast falls abruptly short - the fly is stuck on the back of the boat.

Lean over the side, careful not to trip and fall in, careful not to drop my rod, careful not to throw the boat off-balance and knock my beloved fishing partner (and/or guide) into the water. It is not cool to dump people into the water. It is especially uncool to knock your husband in the water. It is expensive to break your rod.

The fly is stuck on a piece of boat liner. Remove it, check the hook and drop it in the water.

Roll cast to straighten the line.

False cast to let some line out and dry my fly.

Target a spot under the far bank, near the tree but not IN the tree. Fly lands in the tree. NO! Yank the rod back hard and rip the fly out of the tree. The line whizzes straight back at me and miraculously does not hit me in the face. The fly plops awkwardly into the water. Pause and thank my lucky stars.  

Pick up the line to cast again. Notice - too late - that the line is tangled in my laces. Line drops and falls limp in the water.

Untangle the line. Notice it is also wrapped around my fishing bag (again). Untangle that.

Roll cast.

False cast.

Target the submerged log - try to land just to the side of it. Good! Mend the line and let it drift.

Notice I am stepping on the line and remove my foot in time. The boat crosses a riffle and I almost but not quite lose my balance.

FISH ON!

Lift up my rod to set the hook. We want him nice and secure in the mouth.

Strip in some line to tighten it, too much line out will enable the fish to get off the hook.

Strip.

Strip.

The fish jumps once, twice and flashes in the sunlight.

Back in the water, he makes a run for it. Keep the line tight to keep him from escaping into the reeds, around the tree, under the boat. Keep his head up and strip in more line. Be quick about it, don't exhaust the fish. Bring him to the boat. Where is he? I can't see him. Oh my god. Oh my god! There! Quick! Into the net!

Wet my hands before touching the fish, quickly remove the hook and admire the fish.

Maybe take a picture.

Put him back in the water.

One more flash and he's gone.

Notice my fly line is wrapped around the anchor line. And my bag. And the guide's bag. And my shoe.

Untangle it all and reel in some of the extra line.

Check my fly, check the hook.

Roll cast to straighten out the line.

False cast to dry the fly and let out some line for distance.

Let the line settle quietly on the water.

Mend.

Drift.

Just behind that log...

Patagonia Part I - Nomads of the Seas

Scheduled to leave just three weeks after the 8.8 earthquake demolished Santiago, I had a few doubts as to whether   the airport would be up and running well enough for us to transfer through. I also wondered if some of our clients might get cold feet. My dad was getting cold feet on our behalf (or maybe he was just nervous about keeping our kids for a week), and we were starting to get some client emails along the lines of "are you sure... what if... how?" Xav remained confident, Chile would pull itself together, we would go.

We needed a test run to be sure and, coincidently, we needed to get Alex, our travel manager, on the ship so he would have a better grasp of what the trip is really like. Since Alex is a rock star, a mere five days after the quake he boarded a flight to Santiago to see how far he could get. We knew that if he could get to Puerto Montt, the port where Nomads is based, then everyone else would be able to. We followed his trip via text message. First leg was SFO - > Dallas. Check. Then Dallas to Santiago. Silence. Uh oh... Waiting. The next leg should be Santiago to Puerto Montt. Long Pause. Then, plugged back into the Matrix, Alex gave us the thumbs up. His official report: Santiago was operating out of tent terminals, but it all worked and it wasn't too confusing. We were good to go.

I've got to hand it to Chile, they really know how to recover. There are freeways in San Francisco that will never recover from our '89 earthquake but Chilean workers were all over that airport. When we landed in Santiago we couldn't actually tell at first there had been an earthquake. The luggage carousel was in the same place and the same guys who walked us through immigration last year took us through again this year. It wasn't until we passed Agriculture "do you have any food?" that we started to see the damage. Long cracks, dust, the sound of heavy machinery, the smell of paint. The closer we got to the main entrance, the more damage we could see. Suddenly we were outside and following our bags across the parking lot. Where we could see the tents.

Santiago airport was akin to a very efficient refugee camp. Yes, we were outside. Yes, it was hot. Yes we still had to pass through security. But they had water, airline system computers, couches and shade. They even sorta kinda had wi-fi. The flights ran on time and everyone was polite - even smiling. I was amazed.

After a few hours we were back up in the air and on our way to Puerto Montt. Aside from the nationwide blackout and worries about relatives in Santiago (everyone has at least one relative in Santiago), the city of Puerto Montt was untouched by the quake and when we entered the Club House it was like it always is, full of happy people, delicious food and as much Chilean wine as I could drink. Yum. 

As for the trip itself, we were blessed with great companions, if not great weather. The first two days rained like something out of the Bible and on the third day the lakes and lagoons flooded. This did not affect the ship but it meant the helicopter had no place to land and so we weren't able to do much fishing. This is why my Nomads Flickr set has so many pictures of wildlife (penguins!). The eco activities were a ton of fun and even my hard-core fly fishermen got into climbing the glacier and racing around the ocean in the super-souped up Zodiac. Whee! 

For those of you keeping track at home, this year I did not hurt myself. I waded across rivers. I fished. I hiked up a glacier, raced across the ocean and flew around volcanoes in the helicopter. I met great people and gained some new friends (and a couple of pounds). All in all, it was an amazing trip.

 

Lunch on the river

 

Showroom Dummies

This post comes with a soundtrack - a Kraftwerk song (Showroom Dummies) covered by Senior Coconut. It is my new favorite song - thanks Francisco!

 

 

 

 

 

 

P.s. If you want to come with me next year, let me know!