In an era when travel agents may soon share the fate
of the passenger pigeon, I have one of the best. For more than twenty years, she has been my partner in
booking complex international trips and ensuring that I obtained reasonable rates,
plus schedules that fit my needs.
Our partnership takes into account differences in airline quality,
airport idiosyncrasies and the potential vicissitudes of weather. I have recommended her to many friends
and colleagues and continue to do so.
I always look forward to our conversations. We are friends.
In recent years our collaborations have been made easier by an online
booking service. My colleague
would make a tentative reservation and I would be notified by email. I would print it out. We could discuss the booking, make
changes if necessary and confirm the arrangements. A further email would follow
with the updated details. I would
print out the ticket and be ready to go.
Last night, there was a change. Not in the skill, efficiency and congeniality of my
travel-agent colleague, but in the online system that had served us so well
for many years. (Incidentally you will note that I am not using the names of
the online providers because I have learned that many are now responding to
online critics not with improved services but with lawsuits for
defamation.) Here was the scenario
that consumed more than an hour of my evening.
(1) When opened the email on to view and print my
bookings – it informed me that there
now was a new provider whose improved services were intended to achieve stress
free travel.
(2) The message was accompanied by a log-in page,
requesting my name and email, that was also larded with commercial messages,
touting services for which I had no use.
When I logged in I was informed that a “confirmation” would be sent by
email.
(3) Often, with such procedures, the confirming
emails come quickly; in this case I waited… and waited…and waited. I turned to other work, checking
periodically. No email.
(4) Finally it occurred to me that the message might
have been picked up by one of my spam filters. Checking my spam files, I was able to find the message. Opening the message I was able to access
a second log in page. This called
for a username email and password, which I duly recorded in my already voluminous files
of usernames and passwords.
(5) I was then informed that in order to access my
booking I would have to accede to “terms and conditions.” These included the usual multi-pages of
legalese though which, typically, I essentially “agreed” to absolve the
provider from all accountability and responsibility. I actually took time to
read them all however of course there was no recourse but to “accept.” In a particularly noteworthy
passage, I was required to “agree” to be bound by any future changes in the
agreement that the provider would post on the website without notice. Checking the site periodically to
detect changes, reviewing the changes, and opting out of the “contract” if I
did not agree would be my responsibility.
(6) Having agreed to this Kafkaesque “contract” I was
directed to look for a confirming email that would provide my reservations.
(7) Several iterations later, I was able to detect
the site where tie reservations were posted, again larded with commercial
messages. However it provided only
the most minimal information regarding my bookings – no class of service, no
terminal information, no seat information, no detailed code information, no
charges.
(8) After further scrutiny, I noted that “print as
PDF file” was an option. I clicked
the appropriate button and a PDF file appeared with the most of the information
that before implementation of this no stress system, I had been able to retrieve
with a single mouse click.
(9) However the no stress software of my new provider
had not properly synched the screen image with the Adobe PDF software. It would print out only a single image,
not multiple pages in a single file.
(10) After experimentation, I discovered a work-around.
If I displayed the two pages of the file separately, I could print them out as
separate, single files. At last I
had a print-out of my bookings to review.
(11) More than an hour had elapsed as I negotiated a
process that, in the past, had taken less that five minutes. Meditation was not enough to quel my mental turbulence. I needed a glass of wine.
(12) On Monday, I will have to encounter the system
again, after my travel colleague and I discuss and confirm my plans. I know I
must budget at least a full hour for each bout with this “no stress” software –
and I await the process with trepidation and loathing.
