I’ve posted a wrap-up of today’s frenzy of activity at PlazeCamp. I’m exhausted, and yet hopped up on many bottles of some odd-tasting carbonated tea beverage that Tilmann got me hooked on. Which is why I’m still blogging at 1:22 a.m. Today was lots of fun, with a great group of people and some interesting hacking; I’m glad I made it over.

Tomorrow I’ve going to take it easy, try to find a plaze to do some laundry, and then perhaps join some fellow Plazmonauts at Vom Funken zum Pixeln in the afternoon.

Wii Plazer Alpha I Plazed Myself on a Wii!

Of course today would be the day that the back-end of the Plazes weblog stops working for me, so no updates there until it gets fixed. But here’s a quick spin around the room:

By 11:00 a.m. there were 20 people here, and there are now about 24. We got started around 11:15 a.m. with introductions from Stefan, and then moved right into a introduction to the Plazes API documentation from Tilmann Singer.

Tilmann began with a caution that the API is still a “pre-release,” and so is subject to change (although not dramatic wholesale change) going forward. He then ran through the basic concepts involved: REST, the privacy model, authentication, and using cURL as an all-purpose testing tool. He took us on a run-through of the main API methods — how to retrieve an activity stream, how to create an activity, etc. while I stumbled along on a German MacBook keyboard, hunting for the vertical bar and confusing ‘Z’ and ‘Y’, showing examples live.

We finished up the “formal” part of the morning with a “flashlight round,” going around the room with each person introducing themselves and telling a little bit about why they are here today. Interests ranged from the technical to the academic to the artistic, and ideas put forth included building a mobile version of the Plazer, better Javascript-integration, building a KDE version of the Plazer and building an OS X Dashboard widget.

Right now there’s a lot of discussion happening in small groups all over the space, and little bits of hacking breaking out slowly.

My room at Arte Luise Kunsthotel is train-themed. Appropriate given that 6 feet outside my window are actual trains:

Train Passes Outside my Hotel Window

Amazingly, given their proximity, there’s not much noise from these trains (which pass sometimes every 5 minutes) — more a “woosh” and a little rumble than any sort of clatter. Somewhat annoying at 3 a.m. when you wake up on Atlantic Time unable to sleep, but at other times only endearing.

In case you ever wondered where the impressionists got their stylistic ideas:

Museum Reflected in River

A follow up to my missing bag story: I got it back, in Montreal, with an hour to spare before my rebooked flight to London.

When I arrived this afternoon at the airport top check in at British Airways the (very friendly) agent told me (a) that BA didn’t have my bag and (b) that Air Canada had mistakenly only checked it as far as London, so even if they did send it on, it would be waiting for me in London, where I’m only transiting through for an hour.

She advised against the Air Canada-mandated “just see what happens when you get to Berlin” approach and instead suggested that I go back down into the AC baggage dungeon where I’d spent so many happy hours last night for another try.

As with all such endeavours in life, most customer service success depends on the random chance of who happens to take on your case, and how passionately. I lucked in: curly-haired baggage agent didn’t stop until he tracked down a guy who might find my bag. After 15 minutes of waiting, the radio crackled to life with “Oui” and my man’s face lit up. Five minutes later my bag came rolling out:

As soon as I had it in my hands I removed the liquids and gels and resolved never to let it out of my sight again (British Airways staff encouraged this approach when I stopped by to thank them for their help).

Amazing that a old PC keyboard and a collection of shirts, socks and underwear can involve so much stress.

If you’ve been following my exploits you’ll know that my journey from Charlottetown to Berlin for PlazeCamp has been, err, interesting. Here’s a brief rundown of the story so far:

4:30 p.m. - Air Canada website says flight from Charlottetown to Montreal will be late, potentially cutting my connection time for the British Airways flight to London down to 30 minutes.

4:35 p.m. - I phone Maritime Travel, where I booked my ticket. They tell me that I am “protected” because my whole journey is on British Airways, so if I miss my connection in Montreal BA will rebook me and “take care of me.”

5:00 p.m. - Johnny arrives to drive me to the airport.

5:15 p.m. - Arrive at the airport and check my bags. Agent tells me that my connection will be tight, but echoes the “you’re protected” sentiments of Maritime Travel.

5:21 p.m. - Through security. Pay Aliant’s exorbitant $7.50/hour for wifi to check AirCanada.com and find that flight is now showing arrival in Montreal at 7:23 p.m. — leaving me 20 minutes to connect.

6:50 p.m. - Flight boards, 60 minutes late. Then spends another 10 minutes on the tarmac “waiting for an incoming flight to land.”

7:45 p.m. - Arrive in Montreal at the exact time my BA flight is set to leave. Walk very quickly the 17 miles from the arrival gate to the departure gate, aided in part by a holf cart ride on the last leg.

7:50 p.m. - I can see the plane! But BA staff look at me as though I have commited a crime, and suggest that I was insane to ever think I could make the connection even before the delay. Am instructed to go to talk to Air Canada to get rebooked.

7:55 p.m. - Am told by security guard that I am, in essence, in “international waters” and cannot leave without clearing customs in the company of a BA agent. Find a BA agent just as she is leaving (incredibly nice and helpful) and we find an open gate and simulate an international arrival. I fill out a customs declaration and delight in not checking off the “have you been on a farm since you left the country” question. Turns out that I didn’t need to fill out the form, and I’m handed a special green “get into Canada free” card to show on the way out.

8:00 p.m. - Back out into the general prison population, my friendly BA agent accompanies me to the Air Canada ticket line, and then wishes me good luck. Five parties in front of me in the line.

9:00 p.m. - After an hour in the line I am starting to lose my will to live. Am finally ushered up to the counter and the agent tries to rebook me. She says that the BA flight for the next day is showing “no availability” and that she could rebook me on Air Canada through Frankfurt. Cool, I say. No, says her supervisor, “BA won’t pay us to do that.” I am told that I have to get on the phone with BA to rebook, but assured that my bag will be waiting for me downstairs.

9:05 p.m. - I go hunting for BA staff behind a door marked “Servisair” as my friendly woman earlier suggested I might do. Turns out “Rinalto,” the head man, has just left, but he is summoned by cell phone. He looks exasperated when I tell him my tale, and takes my boarding passes and says he’ll work it all out in the morning. He seems like a good guy, but at this point I don’t trust anyone.

9:10 p.m. - Head down to pick up my back. What a naive fool I am. There are hundreds of bags all over the place, none of them mine. And a party from my original flight who also missed connections, who have been waiting since they arrived for their bags.

9:30 p.m. - The other bags finally arrive, but not mine. Get in line at the baggage office.

10:00 p.m. - After 30 minutes in line I get to talk to a baggage agent. He checks on the radio to see if my bag is in the BA area and finds it isn’t. Says my bag will probably make its own way to Berlin, and there’s nothing he can do. Says I might check through the hundreds of bags on the floor to see if any are mine.

10:30 p.m. - After a thorough search, no bag is in evidence. Give up, and head out to catch a cab to my brother Steve’s (lucky he lives here, as neither airline would give me a hotel anyway).

11:15 p.m. - Arrive at Steve’s. Call British Airways baggage and they say “there’s no way we have your bag — talk to Air Canada.” Call British Airways reservations to see if I can rebook and am told “that’s Air Canada’s responsibility as the delay was their fault and there’s nothing I can do.”

11:20 p.m. - Amazingly, the agent from BA calls back, says he was mistaken, and offers to rebook me. Takes 5 minutes and I appear to be set.

11:50 p.m. - Sleep.

9:00 a.m. - Back at it. Call the Air Canada baggage office, and spend 15 minutes on hold to be told, again, that I need to simply look for my bag in Berlin.

9:20 a.m. - Call BA baggage office and am told that my back won’t be in Berlin.

9:50 a.m. - Go to BA’s website to try to check in. System tells me that I cannot check in. Call BA reservations, and they tell me it’s a website problem and transfer me to technical support, who tell me it’s a reservations problem and transfer me back. I end up making three calls to each department before the problem — “your eticket dates aren’t aligned with your itinerary dates” — is resolved and I can check in.

11:19 a.m. - I check in, and actually have a seat assignment on BA94 for tonight!

12:00 p.m. - Email Maritime Travel to ask them to double-check that me reservations are good, and the email back a confirmation.

As I type it’s 4:30 p.m. in Montreal and I’m about to head out to the airport. No idea where my bag is. The BA website shows the flight will leave 30 minutes late tonight, so who knows what will happen with my tight connection in London tomorrow.

Thank goodness for Brother Steve and his sunny personality, excellent bagels, and spare toothbrush — there are worse fates than being consigned to Montreal for an extra 24 hours!

Off I go again…

If you’re around and about downtown [[Charlottetown]] for the next while, please pay attention to the buildings around you: there’s a lot of ice on the houses and buildings and with the thaw we’re experiencing, there are chunks of this ice falling off. Witness the back window of our VW Jetta:

Ice through my Jetta Ice through my Jetta

A big meteor-sized chunk of ice fell of the house next door and right through the back window of the car, shattering it completely. Fortunately there was nobody around when it happened, so there are no injuries to report.

I just got back from dropping the car off at Good Guys Auto Glass across the the CBC on University Avenue. I’ve been watching their television commericals for 15 years during [[Compass]] and their advertising investment finally paid off.

Back in the fall our friend G. took a trip over to Wallace Quarries in Nova Scotia to pick up a slab of sandstone. While he was there he took some photos of the quarry:

Wallace Quarries Wallace Quarries

For a quarry that has produced the stone for some of the substantial buildings of Canada, I expected it all to look, well, more grand. Regardless, the stone that comes from those ungrand hills is impressive. G. says there seems to be enough there to make many, many more buildings.

My friend Pedro and his Segway were subject of a story on Portuguese television last week.

About This Blog

Photo of Peter RukavinaI am . I am a writer, letterpress printer, and a curious person.

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