This is the first day since Monday morning, that I have been able to use my computer (except as a step-stool).
First, as one of half a million, then one of 65 thousand, then one of 7 thousand, our household has been without power. We are only a small group, so we have had to wait longer than bigger groups, in order to be connected. I can see the fairness of that, even as we shivered in the candlelight. No power, no heat, no cooking. We had a small camp stove for the odd cup of tea, and I did have a re-chargeable portable light (which ran out and needed re-charging!). That we did have that much was down entirely to our foresight and preparation. Judging by the rush at Halfords, we were better prepared than some! An unpleasant experience – but Nature does hand out the occasional crisis, and you learn to cope.
Which is more than can be said for UK Power Networks.
They have been ‘preparing’ for years (ever since the ‘Great Storm’ of whensoever), and it was hardly the Perfect Storm or the Mother of All Storms (possibly the Nephew, twice-removed, of the January Gales), but it strikes me that a power grid that falls over so readily when the wind blows, is hardly a National Triumph of Resilience.
Having said that, they did bring in a raft of engineers and others, to fix the mess. I commend the hard work and the long hours that they spent restoring power. I counted 67 of them before they restored the power to our little group.
It is the Information Services of UK Power Networks that stand in my court, and are found wanting.
“Call us up and report the power failure!”
Repeated attempts to call their number resulted in hour-long waits, irritating music and condescending pre-recorded advice, but no answer from anyone remotely alive. I tried several times, but never got through.
I was able to use a computer at my workplace (not something available to many power-less households) and was able to look up their website. They offered a “Send us your postcode, and we’ll give you a reply concerning the situation at your locale. The reply was fascinating.
“We are not aware of a power cut affecting XXXX XXX” (6 hours after the event)
“The power cut is due to a sub-station fault” (8 hours after the event)
“The power cut is due to a tree on the line” (30 hours after the event)
“We are not aware of a power cut affecting XXXX XXX” (42 hours after the event)
I was probably the only person able to access this facility after the first day, because they edited it out from their website. I had left that page running on my works PC for the next few days, and was able to use it. Not that it proved to be of any use. Not for anything like a true answer.
I signed up for their text message service. Text “Power (and Post Code)”. It fed me meaningless, generalised updates for the first day. After that, nothing. When I tried again, over the next few days, all it would say was “we are unable to match your postcode to an outage. If you have a dangerous situation to report, please call …”.
I did. Several times. If I had been in a typical Hollywood cliché crisis, with the dangling power cables draped across my bed, sparking and arcing merrily, my mobile phone would have run out of charge long before the ’emergency’ line was answered. And I doubt if I could have done an A-Team style phone-recharge from a high voltage cable.
Falling back on my unique access to the secret internet page (no longer accessible to the world apart from me), I managed to send them a request for a call-back. Amazingly, on the 3rd day, someone did call back. A very charming and personable lady from UK Power Networks. She listened to my tale of woe, noted down that I actually did have a power outage at my location, gave me a reference number, and told me that they were “waiting for a tree surgeon”. I would have preferred an electrician, but hey … “Any profession in a storm!”.
I know! A terrible pun, but the sense of humour fades as the light and heat slip away into the night.
She never did get back to me. No one did. But sometime after midnight on fourth day, the power was restored. I will carry a new-found respect for tree surgeons! When I awoke, later that morning, my alarm clock was glowing at me. I got up and put on the heating – then went back to bed.
Later that day, as I sat there basking in the restored electrical bliss, I idly called up the website on my freshly re-charged mobile phone. All the waffle about UK Power Networks, the Salvation Army, the Red Cross and a host of other organisations, setting up aid centres where you could get some warmth and a hot cup of tea, drew only a snort of contempt. I never saw anyone – not a Samaritan or a Tea Lady – come anywhere near. The other side of the street had power, but no-one offered. Not a thing. And never a cup of tea. I’ve had more visits from Jehovah’s Witnesses than I have had from UK Power Networks or any do-gooders. The only people that talked to us were the other sufferers, and I was happy to run them to the local shop to buy ciggies, and a tub of margarine to spread on the toast made in front of their portable gas fire. Prepared! Like us.
The bit that did catch my eye, was the offer of compensation. If you had been cut off for more than 48 hours, they are prepared to pay compensation. £54 for the first 48 hours, then another £27 for every further 12 hours without power. They claim that they will be contacting all eligible consumers by writing to them on Monday November 4th, but having had (recent) experience of their communication skills, I will be writing to them!
Look up UK Power Networks on the internet, and if you are entitled, hit them for all they are worth! Not for the sake of power cuts, not for the time they took to restore power to your home, but for the absolutely execrable excuse for an information service to aid those at risk, and denied power, or any kind of voice.
Text POWER – TO THE PEOPLE!