Public transit as lesson in cryptanalysis
Every time we ended up in a new city (Brussels, Paris, Rothenburg, Prague, Berlin, Potsdam, Amsterdam), we faced the task of decrypting the local public transit coding system. Here's how it works:
A few things helped with the decoding process:
The absolute stupidest thing we saw in Prague was that the machines that give tram tickets only accept coins, the ATM only gives bills, and nobody seems to want to give change. Luckily, I had some warning about this problem so I knew to go to work on it instead of standing around looking for an easily accessible solution. To date, the best luck I have ever had with the ticket problem was the NYC subway, which allowed me to fill day passes with my ATM card, no cash required. I think something similar was available in Paris, but it wouldn't take my card for some reason (odd, since it worked every where else).
The system in Amsterdam was equal parts good and bad. First, the information desk inside the Centraal [sic] station was of little help in finding our tram. She insisted everything was outside, to the left, by the white building. Outside, to the left, some trams but not all, no white building. After a while, we got curious about something going on further to the left and discovered -- on the far side of some construction walls -- a white building and more tram stops. I guess the people at the info desk don't come through the front and don't realize that the white building, which perhaps they are used to seeing, is no longer visible?
In any case, you buy a 15 trip strip card. Every time they stamp it, though, they stamp 2 trips per adult (with manual time stamper). So, it's really a 7.5 trip ticket. Why not call it that? Then, to make matters worse, everyone getting on the tram conducts a miniature negotiation with the "driver" (the brake and accelerator operator: it's on rails), which is really inefficient. There is, however, a staffed kiosk in the rear of the tram; why they don't automatically direct everyone who doesn't have a pass to that, I don't know. However, it was really handy to have someone to conduct ticket sales and to ask directions. And the driver was sure to point out your stop if you told him where you were going during your negotiation.
Anyhow, in case it isn't obvious, I really enjoyed the challenge of learning each system and having the opportunity to do so much comparative study of organizations in a compressed period of time.
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[1] I noticed in the old photographs at the Museum of Communism (above McDonalds and a casino, across from Benetton) that many street signs were burned during the Prague Spring, a step which makes it harder for, say, unfriendly tourists in tanks to find their way around. Perhaps the aversion to public maps is a leftover from their recently traumatic history?
- Figure out where you are (here). You also have to figure out closest access point to the transport system.
- Figure out where you are going (there). Then figure out where the transport system comes closest to there.
- Figure out what transport or combination will get you from here to there. The answer will be a set of letters and numbers (Bus 175, U-bahn 3, S-bahn 4, Tram 3, RE 29552, etc.)
- Since most of these transports go in two directions (northbound buses have a southbound return), you also need to figure out how that is coded. Usually, it is in the form of the terminus, so you have"4 Stalle P" or "4 Esplanade" for your options on the #4 metro in Brussels. Usually, Those termini can be located on a map. When they are not (for example, because the terminus is outside the area of the map), you must figure out some other means of deciding which identifier to use. Good luck with this latter method; I suggest you memorize the regional history and geography. Unsuccessful decodes of this trick occasionally result in hopping off at the first stop after the error is detected and getting on the opposite direction. For that reason, day passes are frequently a much better deal than single- or finite-trip tickets.
- Then you need to figure out the connection points (stops and transfers). In some areas, this isn't too bad, but in Prague it basically meant memorizing random strings of quasi-latin characters mixed with lots of diacriticals. In most foreign places, the place names don't hold much meaning and the letters are sometimes awkward, so this step frequently means counting the number of stops.
- Then you need to figure out the track, platform, dock, or whatever where you meet each transport. Frequently, this also meant figuring out the local word for "track" or "dock" (e.g. "gleis" in Germany). Bus and tram stops may be on opposite sides of the street, 100 m apart. Metro (subway) stops are in different areas of the underground structure, depending on direction.
A few things helped with the decoding process:
- Maps. Cities with a large numbers of tourists should put detailed maps at every site. There ought to be an easy way for tourists to obtain maps. A coin-op vending machine inside the vehicle and at major connection points, for example. And these maps should include not only the system map (great for planning a trip), but a geographical map showing the city with the system superimposed so that you can find your way from real places to the transit system stops. The first time I was in Paris, someone stood at the train platform and handed out bus maps, but I couldn't find one to save my life this time. Prague in particular seems to have something against maps; you can't even find a good system map on their metro system website.[1] They have a route planner tool, but no map. Very rarely did I see a decent map at one of the tram stops. Germany and Belgium both seemed to do a very good job of including not only a system map at each stop, but a map of the area above the subway station so that you can pick the best exit.
- Visual indicators of destinations: At the stairwells to all of the Paris metro stations, where you take the final flight to the platform (which means that you select your direction by taking that set of stairs), they list the approaching stops. This was really handy since after a while I recognized both terminus (termini?) names but could no longer remember which one was which direction; the list of stops was a quick reminder and as a bonus you could usually see your stop and count off how many. Similar devices were found in buses and trams, but this is very inconsistent: some have nothing at all, some have a map showing the overall system (but you don't know which direction you are going until you get to the next stop), some have a live display that shows where you are and what is coming up. You could get 3 different vehicles on the same route and see all three methods.
- Visual indicators of arrivals: Notices at each stop that signal how long until the next transport. Paper timetables are minimally acceptable (at least you can figure out how frequently they come), but electronic displays give you some confidence that something is actually coming. In Prague, we were the victim of a construction-driven diversion; the signs were all in Czech, so we could tell something was going on, but didn't know how long we should wait for a tram that might never come.
- Directions to/from hotels and major train stations and airports detailing which transports and which direction.
The absolute stupidest thing we saw in Prague was that the machines that give tram tickets only accept coins, the ATM only gives bills, and nobody seems to want to give change. Luckily, I had some warning about this problem so I knew to go to work on it instead of standing around looking for an easily accessible solution. To date, the best luck I have ever had with the ticket problem was the NYC subway, which allowed me to fill day passes with my ATM card, no cash required. I think something similar was available in Paris, but it wouldn't take my card for some reason (odd, since it worked every where else).
The system in Amsterdam was equal parts good and bad. First, the information desk inside the Centraal [sic] station was of little help in finding our tram. She insisted everything was outside, to the left, by the white building. Outside, to the left, some trams but not all, no white building. After a while, we got curious about something going on further to the left and discovered -- on the far side of some construction walls -- a white building and more tram stops. I guess the people at the info desk don't come through the front and don't realize that the white building, which perhaps they are used to seeing, is no longer visible?
In any case, you buy a 15 trip strip card. Every time they stamp it, though, they stamp 2 trips per adult (with manual time stamper). So, it's really a 7.5 trip ticket. Why not call it that? Then, to make matters worse, everyone getting on the tram conducts a miniature negotiation with the "driver" (the brake and accelerator operator: it's on rails), which is really inefficient. There is, however, a staffed kiosk in the rear of the tram; why they don't automatically direct everyone who doesn't have a pass to that, I don't know. However, it was really handy to have someone to conduct ticket sales and to ask directions. And the driver was sure to point out your stop if you told him where you were going during your negotiation.
Anyhow, in case it isn't obvious, I really enjoyed the challenge of learning each system and having the opportunity to do so much comparative study of organizations in a compressed period of time.
-------------------------------------
[1] I noticed in the old photographs at the Museum of Communism (above McDonalds and a casino, across from Benetton) that many street signs were burned during the Prague Spring, a step which makes it harder for, say, unfriendly tourists in tanks to find their way around. Perhaps the aversion to public maps is a leftover from their recently traumatic history?
Labels: doggerel, management, railroads, travel



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