Fog lights with no fog

Driving around with fog lights on is actually illegal in most western countries but it's not in Australia. Ergo when you're driving your Ford/Holden, the only way to look cool is to turn on the fog lights. Four headlights looks better than two, doncha know?

It's questionable that the Australians that drive around with their foglights on actually know what they are. It's the 'moar lights!' switch right? Well, I thought it was a bit of a curiosity before, but unfortunately now I live down a country road in the mountains and walking home from the train is getting pretty old being dazzled by four sets of headlights at a time...

I'm guessing this is one I'm just going to have to suck up. Shades maybe?

Phones on Trains

Having shifted to doing an exclusively train-based commute, I have experienced first hand a set of peculiar Australian behavior which seemed worthy of necroing the Strange Australia blog. I refer to the use of mobile phones and portable electronics on trains.

On public transport in other countries such as in Europe, Asia and the United States, it's generally considered a little impolite to speak long and loud on your mobile phone on the train. No such stigma appears to be the case in Australia and I'm not entirely sure what to make of it.

I started off being annoyed, do these people imagine that I want to hear about their mundane work related issues? People do occasionally do this outside of Australia but they do at least throw a guilty glance around to see if anyone is scowling in their direction. Not so in Oz, they honestly don't give a damn. They don't even seem to moderate what's being discussed, my annoyance having been dialed down a bit by hearing actual interesting personal dramas and work related crisis - stuff which can liven up an otherwise dull journey.

It's not just making calls. Where else but Australia would you have people playing games on their smart phone with the game sound rammed up. Bling bling, blip blip blip hooraaaay! This might get a couple of glances but again, no effort to turn off the sound, use headphones or whatever. Personal stereos? Blaring out of woefully inadequately sealing earphones... not enough that you might enjoy whatever they're hearing, just staccato punctuated bursts of tinny static. Yay.

One time I even had someone whip out a laptop right next to me and start writing an email to some group about how poorly performing they were and summoning them to her office (Dr somebody, general manager of environmental community something) to account for themselves. This isn't in the realms of eavesdropping, you can see what's on their screen as easily as someone reading a newspaper next to you.

You might think this behavior is symptomatic of a culture where it's every man for himself, somewhat like you see on the London underground. Eg where people push to get on a train despite the fact everyone is trying to get off. Where the elderly can get happy slapped by a 12 year old while the entire carriage of be-suited adults stares at their shoes. Not so...

In fact you can and do get fined for putting feet on the seats, swearing, drinking, blocking the doors. General anti social behavior. I was once on a train and it stopped in the middle of a journey and the driver came down through the cars and gave some kid a full bollocking because he could see him vandalising the chairs. Anti social behavior is really not tolerated at all.

So what we see here is generally annoying personal space invading behavior just isn't considered something worth getting worked up over. The message is "deal with it" and I gotta say, strange as it is, I'm alright with it so long as people behave like human beings.

Lay-by

Not, as you might think, a set of rail tracks by the side of the road. This is actually a peculiar artifact that is still embedded in much of Australia's retail industry. The concept is that you 'buy' somethng, only you don't have the money. With me so far?

So what you do is take it to the lay-by counter where they put it on a shelf for you. You don't get to take it away. The idea is that you come back and make regular payments until it's fully paid off, then you can walk out with the product.

Outside observers may be puzzled by this strategy. After all, what's the matter with just leaving the product on the regular shelf instead and just saving up money? After all, by the time you've got the money it'll probably be cheaper, or they'll be a better one, or you might have no need of the product any longer.

I don't really understand it. The flimsy premise of lay-by appears to be that you might buy something 'on special' so you get the price you want, without paying credit charges. I think it has it's roots in the days of the labour-based economy where it was normal to be paid on a weekly basis. These days, even if you did get paid weekly, you'd buy it on your credit card and just pay your credit card off by the end of the month and not pay charges, surely?

Lest you think this is some quirky service that never gets used, if you were to visit any of the major department stores in the cities, you would find quite a substantial space set aside for lay-by. Staff manning a counter, paperwork or computer records and of course shelves of space given over to boxes of products that no one had the money for...

As with many things in Australia, it's just been happening for so long that no one appears to have noticed how silly it is. I don't blame the retailers for doing it, it's clear it ups their sales, allows them to provide a purchase rush for customers without the funds and a correspondingly high chance they will forcefully save up and obtain their lay-by.

I'm just baffled why the customers can't see how there's absolutely no benefit to themselves whatsoever... I guess they just notch it up as another price of doing business in Australia like credit card surcharges, charges for using cash machines (I'm not joking) and my favorite - charges for daring to buy something in a currency that isn't Australian dollars.

Little wonder that the vampire banks are doing alright in Australia eh? They've got their own captive village of idiots happy to let themselves be bled dry because that's the way it's always happened.

Power Trips Down Under

One thing I never really got used to when I left Australia, was the notion that people in authority like the police, for example, could actually be normal people. I say this because when I grew up, the police were sub-human scum on power trips. So meeting British coppers that would chat about the weather was quite remarkable.

Of course I forgot that but had a bit of a rude awakening since coming back to Australia. I've run into official jobsworths enjoying making your life a misery in so many positions. Most recently an off-duty policeman tried to brow-beat me because I parked my car out the back of a dive shop for 3 minutes (at the request of the dive shop owner). Threatened me with a ticket, bad language, all sorts of utter ranting nonsense. Soon as I asked him to point out where the actual signs were that indicated I was illegally parked (I was beginning to get annoyed), he just said 'piss off' and that was that. Irritating but a reminder.

Then I ran across the following post on an ex-pat forum which I've edited. It's absolutely remarkable. Australians who read this might shrug and go well, thems the rules. Anyone else in the world would find it astounding. This is a good example of the bizarre authoritarian regime that pervades Australian society. Are you prepared for it? If so, read on...

I have been here for three years and have not had to use the public transport system, but because Chisholm is right opposite the station and parking is limited, and yes, because I wanted to do my bit for the environment, I chose to catch the train from Mordialloc to Frankston and back, rather than drive the car.

Today, my SECOND day, I was on my way home on the train, on my mobile, sharing a lovely joke with my hubby, when this burly women in uniform approaches me. I smiled at her, offered her my ticket as I assumed that was what she wanted to check and continued to chat to hubby. She just stands there. I look at her confused and she said, 'Do you realise it is an offence to put your feet on the seats?' Now, to be honest I hadn't even realised that I had put my feet on the seat (I must have just slouched down after a long day of college and just 'put my feet up') and when she approached me I had sat straight up (I was taught that when you speak to someone, you sit up and look straight at them, not slouch around), so I don't know if she thought that was an admission of guilt, but I said, incredulously, 'No' and apologised immediately (and quickly ended the conversation with hubby). I seriously could not believe that putting your feet on the seat was an actual offence. She then became very authorative with me and informed me that there were 'signs everywhere' and 'haven't you ridden on a train before'. 'No', I said, 'I have only been in the country for three years and haven't had to before now. I have just started college and this is my second day' By now, I am frantically looking for the signs telling me that if I do this heinous thing, I am going to be committing at an offence. I look at the 'signs' which are blue and orange diagrams of a number of things with red stripes through them - hardly enough to get the message across. Then she says that she is an official of the Department of Transport (lest I hadn't noticed - and dear god, the POWER, the POWER!!!), and that as such she was obliged to write up the offence. I asked what that meant and she said that the notice would be sent to the Department of Transport. Again I said, 'And what does that mean, what will they do with the notice?', innocently thinking that it would be logged on some database that is kept of people who habitually abuse trains. But oh no, it would be sent to the Department Of Transport, who, in 4-6 weeks time would write to me, detailing my offence and sending me a fine. Yes, a f***ing FINE!!!! You have got to be kidding me. I suddenly got very frustrated. I just burst into tears and raised my voice. 'You have got to be kidding me,' I said. 'No, I am not', she said, 'you have committed an offence and I am legally bound to cite you.'

'Are you kidding, I said, 'Are you telling that part of the tax I pay is paying you to police the trains, to make people like me who opt to use public transport pay fines, whilst issues like domestic violence, child abuse and the disabled go with so little funding.' (Bare in mind, I have just started a course, and will eventually have a career, in social work).

My loud voice obviously raised alarms as just then another large uniformed man flanked her. By this stage, I felt like a criminal (for putting my f***ing feet on the chair!!). I couldn't believe this, it was like being in a nightmare!!!

I would like to interject that I am one of two (yes, two) people in the compartment on the train, with another maybe five people in the other along. It wasn't like I was preventing someone from sitting down, although I realise that wasn't the issue! I have never felt more intimidated.

She then asks me for some form of identification (my mind is reeling, I am actually being asked for identification for putting my feet on a chair, which I immediately removed upon approach. I can't believe this - can I get arrested if I refuse?) By now, I am openly crying and feeling more sick than I have ever felt before. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction, but if I don't cry, I would go ferral, and I knew that would get me arrested, so I give in, I hand over my licence. She writes down all the information and hands it back to me. It occurs to me I should ask what I'm in for since my hubby will want to know. She says, 'I think it is around $170 for the first offence.' '$170!! $170!!,' I shout, 'For putting my feet on the chair?!' She then asks me, (rather loudly) 'Would you let someone put their feet up on your chair at home?' To which I reply, 'If someone did, I would ask them politely to put them on the floor, not ask for $170 for doing it! And then, if they didn't comply, perhaps a stronger word would be needed.' They weren't having it. I asked for her details as I am going to fight this, she didn't have paper (It appears the only paper they carry is the ones they cite you with ) so I had to give her some. She sweetly smiles and says, 'Thank you'. As she left she said that she had put my extenuating circumstances (i.e. At college, 2nd time on train) in the notice and that they may not send the fine, but if they do, I have the right to appeal it and with that they, and the other burly uniformed man watching from the other end of the train, hopped off the train, leaving me to feel humiliated and contemplating how the hell I am going to find $170. I swear to god, if I owned a gun....

I had to walk a block to my car (because they fine so much for parking here, I am EXTRA careful to park legally) and I couldn't breathe from frustration. I swear a man walked past me and hesitated. I think I looked like I had been attacked or something, I was crying so hysterically - just purely from the frustration of it all.

Of course, on the way home, a five minute journey, I HAD to make sure I did not speed, because dear God, 3k's over the limit and I'm done for, so there I am between tears of frustration and not being able to breathe, trying to drive home constantly checking the frigging speedometer to make sure I don't go over the frigging speed limit. I have NEVER been so angry.

I came home, phoned hubby and begged to go back to the UK. Right now, give me the awful economy, snow blizzards and council estates any day. We survived the plague, for God's sake!!!! At least we aren't so over-regulated that people are publicly humiliated on trains!!!

Dress Code Oz

I'll describe a scene I saw on the streets of Brisbane just a few days ago; imagine a swaggering trio of lads out on the town at night, making their way down the street in good spirits, smartly dressed, destined for some sort of evening establishment.

Two of these lads look at the feet of the third and much discussion results, shaking of heads and and inevitably one of them says "we'll not get in with those." He's talking about the shoes his mate has on, a pair of sneakers where the other two are be-shod with some kind of less casual dress shoes. Their problem is dress code. It's an extremely peculiar thing which I've only ever really noticed in Australia.

It means, of course, that none of them will enter the bar of their choice. Said bar will be poorer for the custom but this is a choice that thousands upon thousands of bars just like this one make across Australia every evening. They turn people away for seemingly arbitrary dress codes, policed to the letter by bouncers positioned outside the doors, armed with a checklist of appropriate attire and a sharp eye for innappropriate clothing.

I find this extrodinarily strange, it wont surprise you to learn. Not the least because, quite frankly, these bars are rarely matching this kind of attention to detail with their internal accoutrements. In fact there's more as like to be a complete lack of decore, furnature or otherwise any such expense lavished on the profit margin irrelevancy of 'atmosphere'.

In virtually any other Western country if you head to anything that's a 'bar' then it's pretty much smart casual. You wont be inspected with a fine toothed comb but merely given a cursory glance that you're not unfeasibly inebriated. If you enter a night club, you'd be expected to wear a collared shirt, proper shoes and no jeans and really that's about it. These standards tend to get more lax the warmer the climbs. Not so for Brisbane though, I've seen people turned away for not wearing long sleeve shirts on a 33 degree evening, not to mention open shoes (which is fine for a lady entering just prior of course) and any manner of other absurdities.

In fact, I've even been refused entry to the 'Crown Pub' in the Crown Casino complex in Melbourne for essentially wearing clothes more in style, more classy, than the bouncers could quite get their head around. And that bar is a classic example of what is essentially a sports bar style counter and a largely empty room designed to pack to the gills with punters who have no better establishment in the immediate vicinity to frequent.

I'm not sure what it's all about. I think it's trying to deter a type of customer; We Don't Want Your Carlton Draft Swilling Sort in Here Mate! I'm guessing though, I don't really understand. So I'll need to give it the same sort of pitiful gaze as I gave said bouncers in the Crown Pub, and thank myself for a lucky save and a reminder to head up to the city proper and find a real bar.

Time zones

For a country with so low a population it always amazes me how there's seemingly enough resources to run each state as if it were a sovereign country. There are countless examples of this, particularly should you happen to get shafted interstate by some retailer and find that there's a juristictional quagmire of who you can complain to.

This situation is particularly strange when it comes to time zones. See Queensland basically doesn't do daylight savings. So what that means is that when you have daylight savings, like now for example, you have this absurd situation where Melbourne is one hour ahead of Brisbane, despite quite substantially demonstrably more West of Brisbane. Hell, even South Australia is half an hour ahead. Western parts of South Australia are several thousands kilometers West of Queensland.

None of which, I guess, causes any huge issues. However it is most definately strange.

Broadband Sillyness

I went through a phase of being quite impressed with Australia's broadband, something which showed up while I was abroad in the comparably high-tech civilization of Europe. Mostly because I lived somewhere rural and couldn't get ADSL2+ and then when I moved to Australia lived right slap bang in a city center so the world was my oyster. Still, there's a fair amount of competition and a hefty unbundling from the incumbant telco going on, so you can choose a service from a number of operators.

If you live in one of the cherry picked exchange areas of course. When moving to somewhere slightly further out, things got a bit more hairy. For a start even if there is ADSL2+ available at the new address, there's no garantee they'll have spare ports for you. I picked one smaller provider, iPrimus, and got stuck in... only to then read the fine print which goes something like this:

1. For ADSL2+ you have to take their phone package. This costs $29.99 a month minimum.
2. You can either have a broadband plan which is too small, or too large. And the one that's too large has an arbitrary 24-month contract period. *
3. The best and most functional part of their diabolical web site is the bit about a VOIP service they'll flog you for a tenner a month. You can't have it instead of the phone though.

And, having clicked on the live chat thing to clarify said diabolical web site (you get a lot of this in Australia), the drongo on the other end declares that actualyl their VOIP service isn't available anyway. They hope to offer it again soon. Nothing on the web site to suggest it isn't available...

So iPrimus duly filed in the bin. Which is fine, there's other operators out there. I was very impressed with Internode but they don't do my new exchange. So I went to Iinet who have a very impressive, clear website with good offering and packages and an absolutely superb sign up process. Except it doesn't work and bombs out with a script error.

There's one thing you have to get used to in Australia and that's doing business on the telephone. In fact I should probably start like that from the outset and save time. Well, in the case of an Internet provider the web site is pretty good indictation of their core competencies don't you think?

* In fact most Australian ADSL has 12 month contracts. Not for any reason other than the fact they all seem to be getting away with it. Some sort of don't, but then charge you about $70 if you deign to move service before the end of six months. How backward...