Mophie Juicepack Air

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's better to marry than date.

The Long Version: When I'm writing these reviews I sometimes ask myself: 'Self, if this (whatever) went away through no fault of its own, would I buy another?' That is, with the benefit of experience, and everything that's changed between my first buying decision and the time when I write about it, would I do it over again?

With the Mophie iPhone battery case this isn't a hypothetical question – I'm on my third one. The first one I bought was for my i4s, but that phone broke less than two weeks later. The second was for my brand-new i5s – in fact I had the case even before I had bought the phone. And that one was my favourite case until it developed the annoying habit of repeatedly connecting and disconnecting while charging the phone. So case #2 went back to the local big-box store, where I had to settle for a credit since they didn't have the red Mophie Juicepack Air in stock to replace it with.

I sat on that credit for quite some time, and even bought the Apple leather case for daily wear, which I really like. So eventually I decided to use that store credit for something else – I wanted to cash it in before they file for bankruptcy, not that I have any inside knowledge – and spent time researching bluetooth speakers and other trinkets that cost about the same amount as the Mophie case before heading back to the store.

Ah, but when I went to the store I took a fateful stroll down the aisle where the battery cases sit. There it was: the Mophie Juicepack Air in its metallic Product Red colour. I couldn't resist and bought it again. It's just so pretty.

The Air isn't small. Putting it on the phone isn't a trivial choice, although its smoothish surface, curved back, and extra weight keeps the phone quite solidly pocketable. There are times when I take it off in favour of keeping the phone small, but I'd say that I use the case five days out of seven in three out of four weeks.

There's a practical difficulty that comes from only using the battery case occasionally: the Mophie charges from an industry-standard Micro USB cable, rather than the Apple-standard cables, so I keep both cables at my household charging station. The restrictions Apple puts on the Lightning port also means that the Micro USB port on the case can't do data pass-through, so the bottom of the case has to be removed when the phone needs to be tethered.

The biggest day-to-day complication with the Mophie case is that the headphone port on the Air is too small to let anything larger than the little white Apple headphones plug in directly. Mophie includes a short adapter cable to allow other headphones to work, but despite fairly light use the connection on mine has failed. I happen to have a spare, since I kept the one from the case that also failed, but this is not a reassuring trend.

The other challenge with the case is that it redirects the speaker port to the front of the phone, so leaving it face-down overnight muffles the alarm quite profoundly. I was nearly late for work as part of figuring that little tidbit out.

I lack both the means and motivation to do a thorough rundown test on the phone and phone+case, but my impression is that I can pull the phone from about 30% to 80% power with a small top-up reserve left over. That's lower than the specs suggest, which is typical, but it makes it easy to get through a day with moderately heavy use. If I'm conservative I can skip an overnight charge, but that's rarely my goal.

The real benefit of the battery case is that I don't need to cushion my power use. When I'm not using the Mophie case I always have an eye on the power level, and typically plug my phone in for an extra fifteen minutes before I leave for work and then top it up after I return home for the evening. That's less trouble than walking a dog, and I'm sure that I'm not the only one with a spare charger plugged in next to the couch, but there's a reason why lower-maintenance cats and fish are also popular pets.

I was hoping that the Mophie case would be ideal for travel, but it's not quite a straightforward choice. It does add to the phone's ability to be away from a power outlet, but it also adds to its size and weight. The case and the phone charge quickly when they're together, and the case can be recharged without the phone when it needs to be plugged in where there's the risk of theft. Airport lounges or shopping mall food courts come to mind. But travelling with other iThings means that the case needs its own cable, which adds complexity in an already too-complex world.

Aside from size, weight, cost, and somewhat modest capacity, there's one other limitation on Mophie's battery case: it can't charge anything else. Not that its little battery would take my tablet or camera very far, but if being able to top up anything else is a requirement, then any dedicated battery case won't help. For that we need a power cell with an assortment of cables, including one to charge the battery itself with, adding a lot more hassle to its benefit of flexibility. I have a couple of those external batteries, and do endorse them, but never carry them without some specific purpose. The Mophie case is easy and convenient by comparison, and something that I know I'll have unless I've specifically chosen to leave it at home.

But now I have to ask myself: 'Self, if the Mophie case were to go away for some reason that wasn't its fault, would I replace it?' Honestly, I probably would buy another. 'But what if it failed again, like the first one did?' In that case, no, not a chance – and I'm saving my receipt just in case.

last updated 23 apr 2014

Ricoh GR: Travel

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 5 out of 5
Yeah, but: This is only Part One.

The Long Version: There was one time when I missed having my D800 with me. I was in an elevator, three thousand kilometres from my home, on my way to photograph a bunch of friends getting reading for a wedding. I'm not the most outgoing individual, and am not naturally drawn to people photography; the gravitas of a big camera would have been something to take authority from, or hide behind. Instead I was carrying the little Ricoh GR, and for a fleeting minute it felt like one of those dreams where I would be arriving at the party naked.

But if I had my D800 the photos would have been worse. It's too much camera to be sticking in someone's face, and would have shot like a thunderclap in a small hotel room. And I knew that, too, even as I was briefly wanting the God Nikon.

At no other point in my week-long trip to Los Angeles and Las Vegas did I wish I was carrying more weight or a bigger camera.

Visiting family in Los Angeles meant lots of opportunities for casual photography, as well as returning to one of my favourite landscape locations. Moving on to a wedding in Las Vegas would involve street and urban photography in my off-time as well as filling in around the edges of the paid event photographers for the big day. That wedding also meant that I'd need two "good" cameras, as Penny would be photographing the female half of the preparations.

My original plan had been to carry the Nikon D800 with the 60mm Micro and Sigma 35/1.4 along with the Nikon V1 with its 10-30, 30-110, and 18.5mm prime. That would fill my boxy Lowepro Stealth Reporter, leaving my iPad Mini sticking out the back, and barely have room for batteries, let alone the chargers and everything else I'd need. Fortunately, my preorder for the GR, placed with Ricoh in May, came through just three days before I flew out – on the Friday before a long weekend – and changed everything.

The D800 and its two lenses stayed home: five pounds of weight gone, just like that, along with the need for the boxy nylon camera bucket. Now my entire kit fit inside a little 7L MEC Pod sling pack, which made everything else I did over the trip easier and better. Even with all of the ancillary bits and pieces that I wanted with me, my fully loaded carry-on weight was only nine pounds, and my working weight was substantially lighter than that. The GR's higher quality and smaller size also meant that the V1 was demoted from its expected role as my main camera, and while it was irreplaceable for the wedding and associated events, it took less than 20% of my personal photos.

When the quality and portability of the GR is mentioned on photography forums there's always someone who espouses something that they already own: the NEX-whichever and 16-50 power zoom lens, or a Panalympus with Pancakes, or the Fuji ex-film series. None of those are even in the same league as the Ricoh GR. I own three different mirrorless camera systems, and have travelled with each of them. A camera this good and this small hasn't happened before.

First of all, the collapsing Sony 16-50 is the camel scrotum of camera lenses – not in a good way – and all interchangeable lens systems have design and size restrictions that simply don't apply to a fixed-lens camera. The Ricoh GR's dedicated prime lens resolves more detail, and with fewer deficiencies, than much larger and more expensive machines. The GR is unquestionably more specialized than a camera with interchangeable lenses, but it's also far less compromised.

Secondly, the Ricoh GR comes from a long line of advanced small cameras, and its operation has been exquisitely thought out. With the exception of its mechanical flash release, the GR can be configured so that every single shooting function can be used and changed one-handed. That makes for a completely different paradigm than a camera that requires two hands to use properly. Complimenting this is its slim design, which makes it more pocketable than awkwardly-named fixed-lens cameras like the Sony RX100M2 or Coolpix A. The GR is the most transparent digital camera that I've ever worked with, and it just goes away when it's not needed any more.

The catch, of course, is that the GR accomplishes its small size and excellent image quality via an unzooming 28mm-equivalent lens. That's not my favourite single focal length – I prefer 60mm – and wide lenses do tend to be more difficult to use than long ones. Add in the imprecision of holding and framing with an LCD-only camera to the wide-angle ability to exaggerate perspective and hilarity often ensues. It's certainly not for everyone. But my time with both the GR and the small-sensor GRD4 has convinced me that 28mm is an excellent if-there-can-be-only-one focal length. Those who disagree are welcome to treat the GR as a 10Mpx 35mm-equivalent camera if they prefer.

Travelling with the GR made for the best effort:reward ratio of any photographic trip I've ever taken. In Los Angeles I would carry the GR and three-lens V1 system in my shoulder bag, almost always choosing the GR but having the V1 and its long zoom immediately available when I wanted it. That same bag could only have fit the much heavier D800 with one lens; photographic flexibility would have meant carrying a much bigger and even heavier camera bag when I went to the beach, toured a local battleship, or walked around the neighbourhood. The GR/V1 pairing gave me tremendous flexibility, good-to-excellent quality, and a much more pleasant trip overall.

Street photography with the GR in Las Vegas was quite literally a snap. Being able to use the camera with one hand, and set most of its functions with barely a glance, drew minimal attention and let me take many photos that I could never have managed with an SLR. I didn't even bother with a camera bag when I was on the strip at night, since the GR could fit in a pocket even with the little Joby Micro 800 tripod attached. The Ricoh GR immediately rekindled my love of urban long exposures, and reconfiguring it from taking low-iso long exposures to being ready for high-iso street snapshots was as simple as choosing a new custom-programmed position on the mode dial.

Every time I picked up my camera bag, or saw someone walking with a big camera, I was happy that I had left my D800 kit at home. I almost felt badly for the SLR-users lugging their ungainly contrivances of tripods and wide-angle lenses around Las Vegas Boulevard at night. Just one year ago beavering away with a little compact camera would have been a waste of effort, but now the world has changed. The last time I saw an impending shift this large was when I was trying to explain the brand-new Lightroom software to photographers who told me that Adobe Bridge did everything they needed.

I'm not about to put my D800 up for sale, and I know that I'll be taking trips with it in the future. Its image quality and flexibility remain unsurpassed. If weight is not an issue, like when on a supported tour or travelling by car, I'll happily load up a big backpack and head out the door. But I'll still be bringing the GR to tuck in a pocket.

If I'm flying, or taking intercity buses, weight and bulk transform into luxuries and impediments. Pairing the excellent GR with the versatile Nikon V1 worked very well given the requirements of this trip, and I know I'll be using that combination the next time I'm in Coney Island. But I also foresee other trips, possibly including multi-day bus forays, done entirely with my GR and GRD4.

Cheap SD cards remove the need for storage drives, and phones and tablets are making laptop computers redundant. The GR's in-camera charging means that the same USB power block can supply my phone, tablet, and camera; if that fails then the GRD4 can squeak as many photos as you'd get from a short roll of film out of a pair of AAA batteries. It has never been easier to travel long distances lightly and with excellent gear.

With the GR I finally have a camera that's small enough to carry and use anywhere, and good enough that it's worth taking those once-in-a-longtime photos with. Even better, it's a genuinely compact camera that doesn't require workarounds and compromises in its use. It's not perfect, but it's exceptionally well designed and hits the sweet spot for almost everything it does.

Quick links to the other chapters in the GR saga:

Ricoh GR: Travel

Ricoh GR: Preface

Ricoh GR: Buttons

Ricoh GR: Experience

Ricoh GR: Quality

Ricoh GV1 Viewfinder

Ricoh GR Brief Impressions

Ricoh GRD4 Review

last updated 14 sept 2013

MEC Duffel Bag

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: A simple thing done (almost) perfectly.

The Long Version: The MEC Duffle Bag is a very simple thing that's done well. Available in four sizes, they're basically just heavy nylon barrels with a strong zipper and straps. There's one side pocket and grab handles on both ends, and the construction is absurdly good for the price. I have the Small (pictured) which is $30, as well as the more expensive ($42) Large. No, they aren't waterproof and won't rival the Base Camp duffel, but I've used them for years and they've never let me down.

The Small duffel is what I use whenever I don't need an actual suitcase, so it's been thrown in the luggage compartment of more Greyhound buses than I can count. It's capable of handling a few days' worth of clothes and an extra pair of shoes, and the small side pocket is all I need for stashing a few odds and ends that I don't want getting lost in the cavernous interior. If I'm just going to be away for a couple of nights then I can usually tuck my shoulder-slung camera bag into it as well, although that comes out and rides with me instead of being treated like cargo.

The zippers on the bag are massive, have never shown signs of being strained, and all of the metal hardware is robust. The wide nylon strap handles are sewn all the way around the circumference of the bag; the grab handles on the end are folded and stitched to make them easy to use. The strap is the sole weakness of the design: even adjusted to its longest length, it's just a bit too short to easily sling when the bag is full.

The Small bag is capacious without being too unwieldily, and the Large bag is huge. In fact it's so large that I hardly ever have a reason to use it, and I no longer remember when or why I bought it. But there was a six-month period, many years ago, when I needed to use a laundromat some distance from my apartment. The large duffel was instrumental in that, and would have no problem handling the week's worth of groceries that I'd pick up while the machines were doing their thing. In fact, I think it was probably insulted by how lightly loaded it was.

Seeing my Small duffel in action over a couple of weekend trips even inspired Penny to pick one up for herself. That was about five years ago, but these days hers doesn't see nearly as much action as mine. She finds her large backpacks are easier to carry than the Duffel, and also has a really good four-wheeled carryon suitcase. Eventually I might inherit her MEC duffel bag, but since that would mean I've worn out and retired mine, I just don't see it happening.

last updated 21 july 2013

Toronto Coach Terminal

Concept: 1 out of 5
Execution: 0 out of 5
Yeah, but: Like Opus said, "Well maybe not THAT bad, but Lord, it wasn't good."

The Long Version: The Toronto Coach Terminal, which is home to Greyhound, Megabus, and Ontario Northland, among other bus lines, is an excellent example of how not to do things.

First, the good points: Inside the main doors is a large ticketing area, as well as a traveller's information kiosk that's occasionally staffed by (presumably) friendly, patient, and helpful people. There's a considerable amount of seating, which is eclectically arranged and cosy, even though much of it is roped off as an 'express' area. There are information screens that show which platform each bus will be departing from, and there are even storage lockers available, which is quite a luxury these days.

And that concludes the summation of the good points of Toronto's Bay Street bus terminal.

It's not glamorous, but restrooms are one of the most important consideration for travellers. These are absurdly small and in terrible repair – if there was any doubt that this building is owned and run by the TTC, this will remove it. Accommodating four people will make the Men's uncomfortably crowded, and the Women's is rumoured to be worse. For bonus points they're in the basement, far away and out of sight of the bus platforms. The up and down escalators are in different places, so you don't return to where you started, and neither one is convenient to the bus loading platforms. I'm trying to imagine a worse implementation of such a fundamental amenity, and keep coming up blank.

Also downstairs is a small convenience store selling touristy things and a poolhall to help pass the time. There are no food-equipped vending machines in the building, though, so when those are closed it's time to explore the neighbourhood. The basement does have a pedestrian passageway to the Atrium On Bay shopping complex, which mostly keeps office hours, but has a food court with much better washrooms and a McDonalds. That seems to be the best we can offer visitors with two kids, three suitcases, and half an hour left before they need to go stand outside in a garage.

Yes, dear reader, the best is yet to come.

The bus platforms don't deserve the term. Civilized bus stations have indoor waiting areas with seats and heat, and the people walk up to the bus when it's ready for them. Toronto does it backwards. People here are expected to line up – at least half an hour early, because buying a ticket doesn't guarantee a seat – and stand waiting in an outdoor garage. Metal railings mark the places for the queues, but a bus that can hold fifty or eighty people can create quite the line.

Did I mention that this is in Toronto? There is a roof that keeps most of the rain and snow out, but our weather is lousy for most of the year, being either too hot or too cold. And even on a pleasant day, spending it standing squished between buses with their engines running is nobody's idea of fun.

When a bus wants to reach the loading area it needs to drive through the lines of queueing people, who now need to shuffle themselves and their luggage out of the way. Did I mention that these massive vehicles need to turn to reach the correct positions, often with just a few feet of clearance? I can't imagine the stress this must put on long-distance drivers as they try to navigate a moving obstacle course of tired people pulling toddlers and wheeled suitcases.

And the crowning glory of the whole endeavour is just how busy the whole thing is. I've been waiting at a platform for the suggested half-hour prior to departure only to have two other buses depart from the same platform in that time. This leaves the bus drivers walking up and down the line calling out their destination. "Peterborough? Peterborough? Niagara Falls? Owen Sound?" I think the term I'm looking for is 'cluster farce', but I could be mixing up two expressions.

And once the bus is ready to go the experience still isn't quite over. The buses get to pull out onto a nice and wide public roadway, but it's also used for bus parking, which narrows it considerably. Having your bus need to do a three-point-turn is just the crowning touch on a congested and absurd experience.

This station needs to be torn down. It can't handle the passenger volume, which is increasing, but its replacement hasn't been a priority for the city planners. GO Transit has a more sensibly designed station farther south to serve its regional buses, but there's no way to add on significantly more service there, and the main inter-city bus station really needs to be in the city's core.

The fact is that a city will make the room, and find the money, for the things that it wants. Improving the TTC-owned Toronto Coach Terminal just doesn't rank highly enough to happen. The commercial district that houses the existing bus station has had massive redevelopment over the past decade, including a huge parking and shopping complex on an ideally-located prime intersection. It should have been an automatic choice for a transportation hub, but even with that opportunity missed, other block-scale development projects are not hard to find.

I can only hope that our next mayor can see beyond the suburbs.

last updated 15 may 2013

Buffalo Bus Station

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: A bus station without amenities is a curb.

The Long Version: While I'm far from being a world traveller, I have developed a certain appreciation for bus stations. I've been through the one in Buffalo, New York, on several occasions, and I was recently lucky enough to spend four hours in it during the middle of the night. Writing a review seemed like the only sensible course of action.

Bus stations require certain amenities. First of all, there needs to be a comfortable place to wait. It needs adequate restrooms, some food options, and a place to buy traveller's necessities. All of this should be prominent and close to where the buses load and unload – ideally, within sight of the platforms. It needs to have good wayfinding and information, be clean and welcoming, and be kept in good repair. Buffalo actually manages to do much of this reasonably well, despite fundamentally being a bus station.

Buffalo's bus station – officially the Buffalo Metropolitan Transportation Center – seems to have been designed by someone who's really fond of international airports, because the seating is arranged in rows with enough space to stack weeks' worth of luggage between them. And the generous open space has no bearing on where the doors are for the bus platforms, which might have made sense, leaving the whole result oddly off-scale for the people within it.

With chairs set only the middle of the hall, Buffalo doesn't have any seating for people who prefer to have their backs to something solid. This might make it easy for the station's police to keep an eye on everyone, and discourage certain elements of local commerce from setting up shop, but it's a tough spot to be in. I wouldn't consider listening to music through my earphones in this layout – it would be far too easy for someone to come up to be from behind while I'm unaware. I hate surprises.

The bus platforms are signed according to carrier, but if you want to know where to wait for the Greyhound to Toronto or New York you'll need to ask the helpful attendant. And then the bus might still need to pull in somewhere else – such is life. At least the station designers realized that the weather in Buffalo isn't always pleasant, and the waiting area is indoors with double doors to keep the wind out. If only it was always like this.

Food options are a mixed success. Vending machines provide the most reliable service, and there's a change machine located in a completely different part of the building for people who don't have those archaic dollar bills. There's also a small take-out operation, quite literally a hole in the wall, that provides food that's not robust enough to be dispensed by robot. I didn't see hours posted for it; it was open past 3am when I was there most recently, although when I've passed through on other nights it has been closed. Finally, there's a small restaurant-like operation that's occasionally open – with different hours each day of the week – that I've never been lucky enough to experience.

There's nothing resembling a convenience store, magazine stand, or drug store for any other necessities. There are a few power outlets scattered around that people were able to use to recharge various devices, though, which is always nice to have. They're not conveniently located for travellers, having been intended for power-washers and floor polishers, but at least they aren't kept locked up.

The restrooms in the Buffalo station are another level of experience. Prominent and close to the platforms they solve two problems, and the mens' is able to accomodate quite the crowd if it needs to. But its barrier-free walk-in intentions must not have taken sight lines into account, because the entrance has been retrofitted with an oversized stall door. From the interior it blends into the wall of stainless steel doors, making it into a lobster trap for the tired, disorientated, or intoxicated.

To add to the ambiance, instead of having a sign marked "EXIT" this concealed door simply says "PULL". Yes, pull. It doesn't have two-way hinges, and being one of the few patrons to understand what the sinks were there for, getting through this door is not an appealing prospect. I'd hook it open with my boot, or hope for someone else to swing it open, and use my elbow to defend myself from it.

The bus station also houses the city transit bus, running under the NFTA banner. It took me a while to find out what that stands for: Niagara Frontier Transit Authority. I hadn't realized that Niagara is still a frontier, and haven't heard that term used to describe a civilized border in years, but I suppose it fits. Indeed, I did go from the pinnacle of Canadian urban sophistication to the American hinterland in less than two hours.

But the NFTA name struck me for a different reason. After all, this is Buffalo the City, named after Buffalo the Animal, which has a particularly brutal and genocidal history on the western frontier. I wouldn't expect them to want to remind people of that, but I've been wrong before.

Another interesting Buffalo experience was to have an armed agent of the government approach me and ask to see my papers. Politely, of course, and when I said that I was returning to Canada he lost interest, but this has happened before when I travel by bus, and I always take offense. It seems a little odd that these blanket stop-and-question episodes don't raise the hackles of the live-free-or-die crowd, but I have to wonder how much of a difference it makes that it's immigration enforcement doing the work. Another happy thought.

Being a border town, Buffalo sees a fair bit of traffic as a waypoint, but not much use as a terminal. That's a bit of a pity, because the station is well-situated in downtown Buffalo, and that's an area that could really blossom with more tourist and commercial activity.

A bus station without amenities is called a curb. The Buffalo station is functional if unwelcoming, capable of handing high volumes of stopover passengers but without the deeper considerations that would make long layovers more bearable. Long-distance bus travel is always an arduous task, and the stations need to be very durable, making this a very tough bit of architecture to succeed at. Buffalo isn't as good as Chicago, Syracuse, or New York; I'd say that it's about on par with Detroit. But it's vastly better than the Toronto Coach Terminal, which happens to be my home station.

last updated 12 oct 2012

On Sight Equipment's Money Belt

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: It only costs eight bucks.

The Long Version: There are two completely different things that are called a "money belt", and it's important to choose the right type. Some are large flat pouches that are sized to hold passports and a considerable wad of euros. These go under various articles of clothing, and aside from having a strap on them, look nothing like belts. The other style is, deceptively, an actual belt: they just have a long flat pocket on the inside, closed with a really long zipper.

The On Sight money belt is the second type, and holds bills when they're folded into quarters lengthwise. It has a minimal capacity, so don't expect to hide much more than a half-dozen pieces of your favourite currency, and it won't hold any ID or travel documents at all. Instead I keep a small strip of paper in mine with the numbers of my important documents, a mnemonic sequence for my credit card, and the phone number for the Canadian government.

The belt is made from nylon webbing material with a simple cam-lock buckle, and its ability to securely lock at any position is a kindness for travelling. The inner compartment runs nearly the full length of the belt, ending before the portion that threads through the buckle. When closed, the zipper pull is at the buckle end of the belt, making it easy to check but hard to get into. A little privacy goes a long way if you ever need access to its contents.

While there is some metal in its zipper, it's hard to imagine it setting off a metal detector. That's not to say that it's a good idea to wear clothing with concealed pockets though a security checkpoint, but since some scanners can see through clothing anyway, I'm sure we're all safe from every threat if we ever take the risk of leaving home. Use your judgement and remember just how complicated life becomes if you break the rules. (If you're not Canadian, make that "how complicated life can become if you're caught breaking the rules.")

If you typically wear clothes that need to be ironed, the On Sight money belt isn't an appropriate stylistic choice. Aesthetically it's very casual and nondescript, suiting backpackers and the sneakers-and-jeans crowd without drawing attention to itself. There's no external branding, and just the faintest wisp of visible stitching to give away its true nature. I've used mine for a couple of weekends, and the diagonally cut end that fits through the buckle is showing some minor fraying, but I choose to think that it adds to the nothing-special camouflage.

I'm comfortable with my current level of paranoia to keep me safe within North America. Rather than depending on a Type I money belt to secure all of my valuables against pickpockets or muggers, the On Sight belt serves as my last-chance get-out-of-trouble kit. It doesn't hold much, but that's enough for what it needs to do: remember to stay calm, be brave, and wait for the signs.

last updated 4 may 2011

NBC Studio Tour @ 30 Rockefeller Plaza

Concept:  2 out of 5
Execution:  1 out of 5
Yeah, but:  Spotting NBC talent is rare, but not impossible!

The Long Version: When the ticket-taker said "wait there" and waved indistinctly down a hallway that curved out of sight, I should have realized that we were in trouble. True, disinterested and unhelpful people abound in New York in general, and its service/tourist industry in particular, but I shouldn't have been so jaded that I missed the warning signs. So perhaps in some way I'm responsible for what came later, but even while standing unattended behind a rope I still didn't see it coming. What happened next was the NBC Studio Tour, and yes, the fact that I can't link into its website in a way that avoids the animated intro should be yet another warning. But it's too late now, so let's proceed.

The NBC tour at 30 Rockefeller Plaza starts with the tour group shuffling into a small auditorium to watch a promotional video. While inside, we're told of the many upcoming delights of our visit - like no bathrooms, anywhere inside the NBC complex - and are sternly admonished to turn off our cell phones. "Not vibrate, not silent, not airplane mode: OFF." There's also Strictly No Photography, because everything we're about to see is "highly copyrighted". (That's the exact phrase that appears in their FAQ web page, which I can't link to.) I wasn't aware that copyright comes in different levels, but since NBC was recently fined millions of dollars for pirating someone else's intellectual property, maybe they know what they're talking about. Or perhaps, like some other image-based companies, they think that adding a superlative to the correct term will impress people.

With fifteen minutes of our hour-long tour now past, we were marshaled into a long queue for our security screening. Blogger Bob himself would be proud of its combination of intrusiveness and unpleasantness; if anything, the TSA screeners are more friendly and personable. The studio prohibits anything that the FAA won't allow on an aircraft, so forget about bringing that toner cartridge, but they also ban children under the age of six "for security reasons." I never realized that a preschooler could actually be used as a weapon, which must have some pretty serious ramifications for Disneyland.

Once cleared through security, the next challenge was the elevators. Our sizable group used two of them, which explained the two tour guides, and this was by far the most crowded I'd felt in the entire visit to New York. On the positive side, doing head counts and trying to squeeze everyone in provided the biggest spark of genuine enthusiasm that I saw from our guides throughout the tour. I don't know if this is because there's a betting pool going on in the staff room, or if there's a precedent of people sneaking off - I wasn't inclined to ask, and both options seem plausible.

The tour doesn't follow any established route, so it's impossible to say where it goes next. As the unlinkable FAQ points out, the building is "a very active working environment", so the tour is sent to whatever area has the least likelihood of having anything interesting happening. Not surprisingly, that turned out to be the stage for Saturday Night Live. More specifically, it turned out to be the glassed-in corridor above the bleachers for the live studio audience - but at least the hall was lined with photos, so there was a chance of seeing a publicity photo of someone famous as we hustled past. This explains why that wonderful FAQ page says that "spotting NBC talent is rare but not impossible" - although I doubt that they meant it as a double entendre.

Back through the elevators again and we're rewarded by being able to look through the glass of a dimmed control room, get shown an outdated video loop about makeup for SNL, and then the tour concludes with an audience-participation exercise involving a mock broadcast and some painful moments with a teleprompter and green-screen. There's also the mandatory souvenir prom-photo moment, with prints and DVDs available for purchase at the end of the tour.

We both felt a little stunned as we walked away from the NBC Studio Experience. I was certainly thinking it, but Penny was the first to say it out loud: "Thank Gosh for the New York Pass." That's the flat-rate tourist pass that we were using to see the city, and it meant that we hadn't actually handed over $20 - each - for the tour. I still think about all of the other things we could have done with the time, but at least that's all we were burned for.

But who knows? Maybe other people loved it; maybe it's the perfect moment for someone out there somewhere. Just because it wasn't right for me, and just because I can't conceive of who would really find this tour worth its time and expense doesn't mean that it couldn't happen. If this sounds like you, then please, please, please add a comment to say so. And never let it be said that I'm not an optimist.

last updated 29 dec 2010

Radio City Music Hall Stage Door Tour

Concept:  2 out of 5
Execution:  4 out of 5
Yeah, but:  I may just be really lucky.

The Long Version: I'll admit that a tour of the Radio City Music Hall wasn't high on my list of things to do while on my honeymoon in New York City. I recognized the hall as a landmark when I walked by, and have some idea who the Rockettes are, but otherwise wouldn't have gone out of my way to see the interior. What a mistake that would have been - and her wanting to do the Stage Door tour is yet another example of how my wife is smarter than I am. I have no problem admitting that.

I know that I'm lucky, and in this case we were able to take the tour with a very small group. Our guide, Shannon, was exceptional: bright, interested, and involved in the life of the theatre. There was never that horrible reading-from-a-cue-card feeling, and she cheerfully answered any questions that our small-but-enthusiastic group had. I felt like I saw a lot of the building, and came away with an interest in its history that I never would have considered before. When Penny and I go back to New York, we'll probably make it just a little later in the year than our last trip just so that we can go back and see the Rockettes perform. After meeting one of the dancers in person, and getting a glimpse of their rehearsal, how could we not?

Photography is permitted through most of the tour, but I really don't have anything that captured the magnitude of some of the interior spaces. The tour itself lasted over an hour, but I can't say exactly how long because I was never inclined to look at my watch. Instead I just enjoyed myself and wandered along in amazement. After a crushingly bad experience elsewhere in the Rockefeller Center, the Radio City Stage Door tour restored much of my faith in the whole guided-tour tourist experience. Seeing a show at the Music Hall will be mandatory for the next time we're in New York, and we'll probably take the tour again as well.

last updated 28 dec 2010

The North Face Base Camp Duffel bag

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Unless your name ends in “Sherpa” you don’t want to use it as a backpack.

Nearly all product descriptions and reviews of The North Face Base Camp duffel begin by trying to sell you on the bag’s ability to be strapped to a yak.

Admittedly, I’m lacking in the yak department, but I have found that the Base Camp Duffel is a good companion for my own beast of burden. For over 60,000km - from Newfoundland to Panama - the large, grey cargo carrier has been strapped to the back of a motorcycle, and it’s still going strong.

This review shows the medium sized bag, with a 70 litre capacity (4200 in3)

Large handles on either end offer a burly grab point for hefting it onto the bike, across rocks, or off of an airport baggage conveyor. There are also standard gym-bag duffel handles, though these seem useful only if you’re carrying a light load.

The removable “Alpine cut” backpack straps are lightly padded and have a comfortable curve. Being able to carry the duffel on my back allows me to keep both hands free for carrying the rest of my luggage and helmet. It's an appreciated feature on a bag this big. The backpack straps let me walk away from the motorcycle - everything in one load - to wherever I’m staying for the night. This can be a big deal in if you’re staying in a sketchy area.

That said, this is *not* intended to be a backpack - there is no hip belt or load bearing frame. With it’s barrel-like geometry and the amount of cargo a bag this size encourages you to carry, there is just too much weight on your shoulders to carry any long distance.

The big D-shaped lid opens like a trunk for easy access to your gear. The daisychains that run both lengths of the bag provide secure tie-downs that don’t interfere the opening of the lid. This makes for ideal motorcycle luggage.

*Note - The large white strip is reflective material I have added.

Other than the zippered pocket under the lid, there are no internal dividers. The "base camp" concept is that it’s a single piece of luggage used to carry other bags and gear to your destination.

I manage to carry: a tent and poles, sleeping bag, thermarest, motorcycle tools, tire irons, food, clothes/rain gear, tripod, netbook, AC adapters/chargers, first aid kit.

The length of the duffel fits the Manfrotto 190XB tripod, though I’ve found that the ball-head needs to be removed to get the legs in and out of the lid easily.

Four side compression straps help to tame less-than-full loads - the bag must be fairly full to maintain it’s shape and stay on the motorcycle securely. Of course, loose loads are no problem for carrying on buses, cars and airplanes. Or a yak.

The bag is made of a very thick laminate material, similar to the tarpaulin you’ll see on highway-going truck trailers. Solid stitching, bar-tacks and a hefty lockable zipper cause airport baggage handlers to gnash their teeth on sight of the burly bag.

Though the heavy material is obviously waterproof, the thousands of stitching holes will let water drip in over time. I'm talking heavy rain for several hours here, a quick downpour won't be a problem.

Water resistant, yes. Water proof, no.
In practice, this hasn’t been much of an issue. Anything that can’t be wet gets put in a drybag before it goes inside the duffel.

There are 100% waterproof duffel bags out there, but dry bags have few tie-down points. Getting to your gear means you have to unlash/re-lash the bag every time. That’s a big deal considering how often you need to get to your food, or warm clothing. The Base Camp duffel is just more “livable” for day to day use on a long trip.

Fumigation at the Belize/Guatemala border 

The Base Camp Duffel has been through torrential rain in Newfoundland, sandstorms in the Sonoran desert and muddy mountains in Guatemala. The worst I can report is two bar-tacks on the daisychain popping out after many months of strain on the road. I’ve been told by a North Face rep’ that I can send it in for free repair under warranty.
I’ll be using this bag for years to come, it just works.

I’ve given the Base Camp Duffle a 2 out of 5 for concept, it’s just a duffel bag after all. But it deserves a 4 out of 5 on execution for it's build quality and  for having just enough well thought out features to be useful. There’s no fluff on this duff'.

Anthony teaches  motorcycle travel photography at www.motojournalism.com

Greyhound

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: YMMV.

The Long Version: I want to call them Greyhound Bus Lines, but like Bono, Cher, and Liberace, they seem to be going by only one name these days. So just to be clear, this is a review of the transportation company, not the dogs. I like the dogs, and may have one someday, but for now I'm just looking at the buses.

One of the most amazing things is that Greyhound goes almost everywhere. The idea of the photographer's road trips appeals to me, and since I'm not much of a driver, I need to find other transportation. The train hardly goes anywhere useful, and flying is far too much hassle to do for fun. And in the spirit that the journey is part of the trip, instead of an inconvenience to fast-forward through, there's something very earthy about getting there by bus. And Greyhound is synonymous with buses in a very fundamental way. So when a city or town piques my interest, Greyhound's tickets page is the first place I look. I know that I can get from Toronto to Moncton, New Brunswick, in about a day with four transfers. That's where my Nikon F100 lived before I adopted it. A day is also enough to get me to Roanoake, Virgina, which is mentioned in a catchy song (@3:02). Even if I never go to any of these places, it's nice to know that I can. I could leave tonight and be in Kalamazoo, Michigan, for lunch. How cool is that?

Yes, the world is full of potential, but the reality is a bit different. The seats are small and inevitably become uncomfortable: there's a reason why airlines call their cheapest, most confining seats 'coach' class. The window seat's claustrophobic and the aisle means being bumped and having nowhere to lean. Unlike a train, getting up to walk and stretch isn't a realistic option, and the rest-stop bathrooms start to seem like a blessing. Unlike a plane, the three hours you'd spend being scanned, poked, and waiting in rows are spent swaying from side to side. Okay, so maybe that's not a bad thing, but my point is that a full bus can feel like a holding cell and sound like a high-school cafeteria.

Even the comparatively short six-hour jaunt to Ottawa is something that I'm only thinking of fondly now that time has dulled the actual experience of feeling uncomfortable, crowded, restless, and bored. I haven't had this level of self-imposed experiential revisionism since I saw the movie Magnolia, and for much the same reason. It's been a decade, and now I think I actually liked Tom Cruise in it, and I'd be okay with renting it some time. Ottawa was two months ago, so maybe I'll do Chicago in the spring.

My longest trip was a one-way from Omaha, Nebraska, to Toronto. It was over thirty hours, but I was exhausted and slept most of the way. I took some photos at one of the transfer points, and always need to dig up my old itinerary sheet to see what city I was in. A blur, to say the least. I was invariably in a window seat, and usually had the pair to myself, but occasionally I'd wake up to find someone new sitting with me. Later they'd be gone, and I wouldn't remember them leaving. I do remember that the Omaha bus terminal was right next to the jail, and it seemed like most of the dodgiest individuals in the station were taking the same bus that I was. Someone once compared taking a train into a city as being like entering a house through the basement: you see all the industrial, utility, and storage areas instead of the presentable facade. Bus stations can take that and throw in some elements of a backpacker's convention as well.

A more practical and common Greyhound trip for me is short intercity hops to visit family; two round-trips aren't any more expensive than renting a car for a day, and there's less time pressure. The stations that are downtown are a real plus for me, despite my Nebraska experience, since it's where I live and it's where I want to be when I visit. There's no hassle with luggage, and I know it's handled reasonably well even if there aren't any claim tickets when it's pulled out at its destination. Pretty much everyone there is on the road for functional and practical reasons, and problems are very rare. Despite all of the negatives, it's still a cheap and interesting way to travel. If I have enough time to get there on the ground then I'd rather not fly; if there's no train then I'm happy enough to take the bus.

But I reserve the right to update this review when I get back from Chicago.

Christopher Columbus In America

Concept: 1 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: There's something to be said for popular heroes, no matter how misplaced they may be.

The Long Version: The American fascination with the Cristoforo Colombo, an Italian, has never quite made sense to me. Doing a Google search on the word "Columbus" tells me that there are cities named after him in Ohio, Indiana, Georgia, and Nebraska, without even going past the second page of results. While Canadians do have a few things named after that particular explorer, it doesn't come close to the mythical hero-figure of American culture.

(And rumour has it that the name 'British Columbia' was chosen by Queen Victoria because 'New Caledonia' was already taken. The 'Columbia' part is after the Columbia river, which was named by Robert Gray after his boat. Incidentally, Grey was an American.)

As a Canadian, it astounds me how much energy and emotion Americans invest in this particular individual. It ranges from the background of place names and public holidays all the way out to the extreme fringe of historical revisionist nationalism. "Christopher Columbus is a carrier of Western Civilization and the very values attacked by terrorists on September 11," says the Ayn Rand Institute, which is somewhat surreally quoted on a Bahamian tourism and investment website. "Did Columbus 'discover' America? Yes--in every important respect."

There are plenty of sources that will argue that Columbus did not 'discover' America, and an abundance of others to insist that he did. The crucial difference between these views is the question of whether or not the people who were already here - sometimes still archaically called 'Indians' in Christopher Columbus's honour - matter or not. It just boggles my mind that people never notice that the fundamental premise is flawed. Apparently geography isn't an important part of discovering something.

Here are some maps: Voyage #1, Voyage #2, Voyage #3, Voyage #4. He never came within sight of Florida, Puerto Ricans don't get to choose between Obama and McCain, and if Guantanamo Bay was part of America then they wouldn't be putting their detainees-of-war there.

But a popular myth is a good myth. Searching an exact match of "columbus discovered _____" returns 132,000 results for "america," and only 710 for "cuba" or 460 for "hispaniola", even though he actually went to the last two places. 

And Americans get a day off work in his honour, which is more than us Canadians have managed. Good for them.