End of the Garden

Friday, March 03, 2006

A Real Postal Service

My faithful laptop went belly up whilst in Sri Lanka. So I splashed out on a new one, managing to transfer precious files from the old to the new before it coughed and died. Then the games began. New laptop, easy peasy, I thought. My third. No problem. I know how they work now. So I have spent this past week phoning various help-lines, most of which link me to an echoing voice with a dubious grasp of colloquial English, in India. Not that I have anything against Indians, I love the country. But when I wish clear,jargon free technical advice I prefer to speak to someone nearer, on a line that does not crackle and break, with someone who does not have to ask how to spell 'Sue'.

I bought and paid a lot for a three year service warranty. When I tried to register it, the web site would not let me do this. I also bought an Netgear internet router after I discovered that the equipment I used on my previous laptop was now out of fashion with newer models. The shops assured me that this product was supported by a help line. Which it is. For Windows, not Apple Mac. So had to resort to the internet and e-mail for help. I received several very technical 'articles' about how I could get things working. After three days of getting nowhere, Netgear relented allowed me to speak to someone in India. The guys I spoke to were patient and helpful. Still no joy. Still no internet, except when I poached a neighbours Airport connection.

I phoned my internet server. The first call was not very helpful, the chap I spoke to used language that inferred that I was stupid. His manner patronising. I suggested some customerr service training. On later calls I spoke to delightful beings who were polite, clear and non-patronising. So just one bad egg in the box at the Phone Coop, otherwise very OK. But time consuming.

I spent two days trying to get help from the shop where I had bought the laptop, warranty and Netgear. Finally I managed to to speak to someone who was on a phone line in the UK, who used clear and non-technical language - and sorted out the difficulties I had been encountering trying to get set up. In twenty minutes. So simple when you know how. So impossible when you don't.

Modern technology breeds help-lines. I found myself longing for a time when we hardly used a phone and still wrote letters. No turning back the clock though. And my local postal service is still very unreliable, so not much use either.

Finally, managing to check bank statements (on-line of course) I discovered that Powergen, who I had left for Southern Electricity in December, had been merrily withdrawing payments for utilities they no longer provide. Deep sigh, another morning on the phone negotiating voice prompts and attempting to sort out this problem.

Is this a normal experience with help lines? A week to get something simple sorted? Poor and patronising customer service? My relief of finally getting a very expensive piece of equipment to do what it says on the box does help erase the week of frustration on the phone. But I would have much rather been gardening.