Cybi's space

o2 have been my mobile phone company for the past five years after a switch from Vodaphone. They were a mainly reliable mobile network until the introduction of the Apple iphone. The iphones seem to have pushed their already streched coverage to constant breakdown.

I have recently had the misfortune of having to ring o2's customer services line, after their GPRS satalites packed in. All I wanted to ask, was if they had an idea of how long the GPRS would be out of commission. I thought that that would be a simple request, I would have been apeased by them saying that they did not know how long it might take.

To ring o2's only customer service/information line, you are charged 25p per call. After calling 3 times and being disconnected, either due to their 'help' lines failure or due to mobile (purchaced from the o2 store) being unreliable, but on each attempt they did manage to deduct the charge.
When I finally navigated my way through the computerized menu
{please press the five key twice on your phones keypad}
the call center operative gave their name and asked for mine ... We have all heard of the high premiums that personal detail can comand. So I asked if I was required to give my name. The very suprised o2 employee became very defensive, said I didn't HAVE to tell her, but promtly requested that I answer a host of security questions.

£1 later and several uncomfortable minuets later, I had not gleaned any new information as to when the GPRS would be up and running again. I know it isn't that much money but I object to paying any amount, just to ask why there network, that I already pay through the nose for, isn't online.

Anyway, this morning the service went off again. I called the customer line {kerching, 25p deducted}
This time I offered my name when asked, to avoid a bararge of security question, (as I had done on an interim call) assuming that it would make the call easier all round and that I would have my answer asap.
The woman took my surname, repeated it, and asked for my first name. It was all becoming too intrusive so I asked if I had to give my first name and told her that each time I called they asked for more of my personal information.
It was as though I had said that her mother had had relations with a donkey. She snapped "what did you just say ?" and as I tryed to calmly explain that all I wanted to know was when the GPRS would be back on ... she garbled something and hung up on me !

How can a 'help' line, that your charged for each time you try to use, be so far from helpful that it is down right rude to its customers ?

Cat

As of yesterday facebook have rendered their site virtually unusable, for Opera users.
The previous changes, made to impliment the infamous 'new layout' on facebook, left Opera users unable to update their status or write on the walls of their friends and groups. Those issues were problematic but facebook is now near to redundant if you browse with Opera.

The links on the home page and profile page, are totally inactive and just re-load the page when clicked.
Another swell of third party applications, have been rendered impossible to use or pointless due to major features just plain not functioning. These add to the list of applications that have, one by one been altered and not tested with opera. Leaving Opera users feeling cheated and left by the way side.

Even some of the third party application developers have discovered that they can't even access their own applications.

http://forum.developers.facebook.com/viewtopic.php?pid=147618[/url]

The standard action in these circumstances, would be to make a bug report to facebook. Unsuprisingly one of the features missing a usable link is the bug report form !
So, unable to vent my frustrations directly to facebook I am left pleading with Opera, who I would imagin are non too happy with the currant situation either.

Cat

After a wonderful day out with my boys on sunday, we stopped on a quiet suburban street to eat some delicious mint choc chip icecream. All was peaceful and calm, sunday afternoon dog walkers strolling along the canal past us.
My husband, ever curious (and greedy, as he finished his icecream in record time) decided to see where the road would take us.
A short drive took us past average 1960's semi's, with their pretty hedges and gardens manicured to perfection.
As we breached the top of the road we came to a dead end. In front of us lay an imposing gateway flanked at both sides by towering yorks stone pillars. As we looked ahead, trying to determin where we were, the words chiseled into the stone work came into focus .... ISOLATION HOSPITAL ... the hairs on the back of my neck were on end, an icey chill zipped through me. This was the last thing we had expected to find at the end of the peaceful Yorkshire residential road.
The Victorian gates were impassable, there was no handles or locks on the metal work. Behind them was a thick dark area of woodland, no driveway or path was visable through and beyond the gates. A rapid look showed a high wall streching in both directions away from the 'entrance'.
What had we found ?
A secret hospital ?
An abandoned Victorian Instituion?
So many things were running through my mind.



I couldn't just drive away without finding out what was behind those creepy gates. I set off around the walls to look for a way in to the grounds. Eventually after a few minuets searching I found a climbable part of the wall
I scrambled over the ivy clad stones and managed to jump down and land in a small clearing inside the compound.
The trees were thick around me and the light was starting to fade. There was still no hospital to be seen, infact there were no actual buildings at all. Venturing on, the area around was not at all what I had expected. It was like a sceen from Swallows and Amazons, the land was on a decline away from the gates and the ground was like the surface of an unloved pond. Water was running in between the tress and there was a green carpet of pond weed covering the majority of the ground
Dotted all over were tree houses (a few planks nailed into brances, which by local standards is impressive), wooden pallets bridging the marshy ground from tree to tree and child sized bear traps in the ground that had previously been triggered by an unwiting victim.
After hoping to find a crumbling secret hospital, I was initialy disapointed as I couldn't see any remnants of it anywhere. What I had found though was just as puzzling, it felt like I had found my way to Nevernever land and Peter Pan and the lost boys were silently watching me from their tree top look out posts, with their sling shots aiming down at me.

I could hear the calls of my son wanting to know where I had gone and come over the wall to join the exploration. I set off back, re tracing my steps over the bridges to avoid falling foul of any un-disturbed bear traps still camoflaged with a layer of braken over their pits.
I knew everyone would have long since finished their icecreams and would be egar to head for home, so I reluctantly found the part of the wall I had climbed and dragged myself back into sunday afternoon suburbia.
I got back into the car and with my muddy, scuffed boots and attempted to explain my adventure on the way home. Needless to say my mint choc chip icecream was now a warm slush in a paper cup.

I've since found out that the isolation hospital did once fill the bizarre woodland enclosure that I stumbled into. It was bulit in 1896 and had been called Morton Banks Fever Hospital. It was used during the world wars for injured soldiers and then was finally closed in 1974 .... but thats another story




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12th June 2008 8:23pm - I managed to take this picture and within seconds that sky had changed I think its gorgeous