Look ma, no humans needed
Yeoh Siew Hoon spends a week in Europe and finds there is very little need for human interaction in the travel experience and even when you need it, well, you may not get it.
If technology providers have their way, we would have zero human interaction when we travel. I think we’re halfway there already in Europe.
Arriving in Berlin at zero degrees close to midnight, after a long flight, there was no time for niceties.
The taxi pulls up, the driver takes my suitcase and I throw myself into the car. Other than telling him my destination, not a word is exchanged between us.
On arrival at the hotel, I hand him the fare. He gets out and helps me with my suitcase – I like that about German taxi drivers, they do this as part of the service unlike in Singapore when it’s at the driver’s will.
Much like the bellman at the Crowne Plaza who merely watches as I drag my bags into the hotel lobby. No human interaction there for sure.
The check-in is perfunctory. Fill in form, hand over credit card, receive key, go up to room. I think when the process is as robotic as this, there is no need for a human. At least, you don’t expect a kiosk to smile at you.
While I am in Berlin, news breaks of a threatened strike by British Airways’ cabin crew. I am booked to fly from Berlin to London on that very airline. I go online to book a new ticket on Lufthansa. Search, book, buy.
The night before the flight, I check-in online and decide on the boarding pass by SMS option.
I arrive at Tegel Airport at 6am – light snow is falling by now. I didn’t know it at the time but the next day, Berlin would be hit by heavy snowfall and flights out of Berlin and into London would be affected.
I would have loved the warmth of a human embrace by then – it is that cold – but since I have already checked in, all I need to do is drop my baggage at the counter.
Minimal human intervention needed – I take a photo of my baggage, just in case. A paranoid business traveller friend of mine taught me this – since he’s lost his baggage several times, he takes photos of his bags before they disappear into the baggage abyss.
He says it helps with the bags identification process – just in case.
At security, I am asked my boarding pass. I pull out my Blackberry and scroll down my messages to find the boarding message from Lufthansa. He takes my Blackberry from me and read the message. He has trouble with the trackball – his colleague shows him how to do it. They nod me through.
At the boarding gate, the woman staff asks for the boarding pass again. Once again, I retrieve it. She takes my Blackberry and opens the message. “Where is the bar code,” she asks.
I said I didn’t know. All I got was this message.
“I have to have the bar code,” she says. I shrug. She shrugs.
I am the only one in the queue that has opted for an SMS boarding pass. The rest are all holding physical passes. They start fidgeting. I am holding up the queue.
The woman checks her computer. “What is your name?”
She looks at my message and types in “Hoon” as the last name. I tell her it’s “Yeoh”. In Germany, when I do interact with service staff in hotels, they tend to call me “Mrs Hoon”. It sounds like “Chicken” in their language.
Finally, she finds whatever it is she is looking for. I board, happy as a clucking chicken.
Onboard the flight, I read that not only was the BA cabin crew threatening to strike but baggage handlers at Heathrow were also planning to take some days off work to fight for their rights.
At the rate it’s all going in Europe – both with the aid of technology and the propensity of workers to strike – we really will not need human interaction, nor have it, even when we need it.
If technology providers have their way, we would have zero human interaction when we travel. I think we’re halfway there already in Europe.
Arriving in Berlin at zero degrees close to midnight, after a long flight, there was no time for niceties.
The taxi pulls up, the driver takes my suitcase and I throw myself into the car. Other than telling him my destination, not a word is exchanged between us.
On arrival at the hotel, I hand him the fare. He gets out and helps me with my suitcase – I like that about German taxi drivers, they do this as part of the service unlike in Singapore when it’s at the driver’s will.
Much like the bellman at the Crowne Plaza who merely watches as I drag my bags into the hotel lobby. No human interaction there for sure.
The check-in is perfunctory. Fill in form, hand over credit card, receive key, go up to room. I think when the process is as robotic as this, there is no need for a human. At least, you don’t expect a kiosk to smile at you.
While I am in Berlin, news breaks of a threatened strike by British Airways’ cabin crew. I am booked to fly from Berlin to London on that very airline. I go online to book a new ticket on Lufthansa. Search, book, buy.
The night before the flight, I check-in online and decide on the boarding pass by SMS option.
I arrive at Tegel Airport at 6am – light snow is falling by now. I didn’t know it at the time but the next day, Berlin would be hit by heavy snowfall and flights out of Berlin and into London would be affected.
I would have loved the warmth of a human embrace by then – it is that cold – but since I have already checked in, all I need to do is drop my baggage at the counter.
Minimal human intervention needed – I take a photo of my baggage, just in case. A paranoid business traveller friend of mine taught me this – since he’s lost his baggage several times, he takes photos of his bags before they disappear into the baggage abyss.
He says it helps with the bags identification process – just in case.
At security, I am asked my boarding pass. I pull out my Blackberry and scroll down my messages to find the boarding message from Lufthansa. He takes my Blackberry from me and read the message. He has trouble with the trackball – his colleague shows him how to do it. They nod me through.
At the boarding gate, the woman staff asks for the boarding pass again. Once again, I retrieve it. She takes my Blackberry and opens the message. “Where is the bar code,” she asks.
I said I didn’t know. All I got was this message.
“I have to have the bar code,” she says. I shrug. She shrugs.
I am the only one in the queue that has opted for an SMS boarding pass. The rest are all holding physical passes. They start fidgeting. I am holding up the queue.
The woman checks her computer. “What is your name?”
She looks at my message and types in “Hoon” as the last name. I tell her it’s “Yeoh”. In Germany, when I do interact with service staff in hotels, they tend to call me “Mrs Hoon”. It sounds like “Chicken” in their language.
Finally, she finds whatever it is she is looking for. I board, happy as a clucking chicken.
Onboard the flight, I read that not only was the BA cabin crew threatening to strike but baggage handlers at Heathrow were also planning to take some days off work to fight for their rights.
At the rate it’s all going in Europe – both with the aid of technology and the propensity of workers to strike – we really will not need human interaction, nor have it, even when we need it.
