Consumer Woes
From here to Santiago, the fastest way to go is the tollway. Close to three euros will get you there in a little less than twenty minutes. It's supposed to be fast and safe. Being a private highway that charges for use and also gets some funding from the government, you would expect to see maintenance crews crawling all over the place, making sure everything is fine.
Not really. Only after the fires of 2006 practically shut it down in the area south of Pontevedra, did they start to cut small trees and brush from the embankments next to the highway. Even so, in August of last year, a fire just south of Santiago, in the area of Faramello, crossed the highway with a breath of roasting air and lung-wrenching smoke, yet traffic wasn't stopped and diverted, nor drivers warned of any danger until they ran through it. Money is practically never reimbursed, either, even when the high standards one expects from a tollway aren't met.
I met with one of those drops in standards Saturday afternoon. Driving to Santiago, in the low afternoon sun I saw ahead of me what looked like a bundle of clothes. It wasn't until I was practically on top of it that I realized it was quite solid. It was in the middle of the lane, and I couldn't really go around it. I tried to drive over it in the middle, but I didn't succeed, and my front left tire encountered it. The boom was loud, and I prayed I could make it to the rest stop, about a little more than a kilometer ahead. But, even as I reduced speed, I noticed a strange sound, and the car was listing. I pulled over to the right, turned on the hazard lights, put on a reflective vest and stepped out to look.
The front left tire was absolutely flat. Damn! Damn! Damn! Apart from the inconvenience, it meant more expenses on top of the ones we already have. But my first problem was getting it off and putting on the spare. And it was a bigger problem than I feared. I couldn't squat there on the highway and change it as cars and trucks whizzed by me at plenty more than the 120 kph limit. I needed help. I spotted the SOS calling post a little further back the way we had come, and I went down to it.
When I was standing in front of it, I saw two buttons, one with a white cross on a red background for ambulances, and another with a blue wrench on a white background for mechanical problems. I pressed that one and got a message, in at least three languages, telling me to wait right there. I did, and a man came on. I explained what had happened, with the dangerous thingamajiggy in the middle of the lane, and that I needed help with a flat tire. The man said he had received complaints about the thingamajiggy, and said that a crew would be out shortly to help me. I walked back to the car, checking that there were no leaks from the undercarriage, (there weren't, hallelujah) and settled to wait a little while.
After about twenty minutes, I realized that my fantasy about maintenance crews wandering up and down was just that, a fantasy. I went back to the SOS button and called again. I mentioned I had already called about a flat and wanted to know when the crew would arrive. The man assured me they were on their way; they were passing through Sigüeiro and had to go to Padrón to turn around. I thanked him and walked slowly back to the car. That meant at least a half hour more to wait, probably more. But I needed the official help.
When they finally arrived, almost an hour had gone by since the incident. The van pulled up behind my car, with its large light atop, warning drivers of an obstacle. The first thing of the guys asked me was, "Did you call your insurance for a tow truck?"
Question marks were popping out of my head. "No, I called at the SOS post. I don't need to be towed, I just need help diverting the traffic with your van to change the tire. My spare is fine, and there seems to be nothing else wrong with the car." Yet, the guy insisted that they weren't allowed to help change tires, that they only appeared to help the tow truck take the car to the nearest rest stop. He went on to say it was illegal to change a tire anywhere outside the rest stop, that we would be fined, and he would be fired if his boss should find out. I was beginning to scream inside, thinking I would spend another hour out there because of bureaucratic stupidity. But, he would do me a favor and change it. He and his companion got out some traffic cones, set them up a little into the lane, brought out a garage man's jack from the van, and changed the tire quickly.
I thanked him, and mentioned that the flat had happened when I ran over a strange object in the middle of the lane. He said they hadn't seen anything, and to remember next time to call my insurance for a tow truck. Fine. I got in the car and left, thinking that this couldn't be right. Why else were the SOS posts there for if not to help in times like these? When I mentioned I had a flat, the guy talking on the other end mentioned nothing about calling a tow truck, simply that the maintenance crew were on their way.
When I got home I checked the web page for the company that runs the tollway, but there was really no information. There's only a phone number one can call from Monday to Friday during office hours, apart from a 24 hour phone that must be the number automatically dialed on the SOS posts. The problem is that now I have to buy two new tires thanks to the oversight of maintenance crews that left a solid object on the road. Thankfully, it's only two new tires, but that object could have caused a heavy accident, taking into account that cars and trucks pass by at speeds well above the 120 kph speed limit. I am going to try to see if I can get reimbursed for the two new tires, but I'm not about to hold my breath. If things get dismissed out of hand, I might dive into the nightmare of consumer agencies. I'm getting tired of the little guy being run over all the time. Perhaps in about twenty years I just might get some of my expense back. Perhaps.
Not really. Only after the fires of 2006 practically shut it down in the area south of Pontevedra, did they start to cut small trees and brush from the embankments next to the highway. Even so, in August of last year, a fire just south of Santiago, in the area of Faramello, crossed the highway with a breath of roasting air and lung-wrenching smoke, yet traffic wasn't stopped and diverted, nor drivers warned of any danger until they ran through it. Money is practically never reimbursed, either, even when the high standards one expects from a tollway aren't met.
I met with one of those drops in standards Saturday afternoon. Driving to Santiago, in the low afternoon sun I saw ahead of me what looked like a bundle of clothes. It wasn't until I was practically on top of it that I realized it was quite solid. It was in the middle of the lane, and I couldn't really go around it. I tried to drive over it in the middle, but I didn't succeed, and my front left tire encountered it. The boom was loud, and I prayed I could make it to the rest stop, about a little more than a kilometer ahead. But, even as I reduced speed, I noticed a strange sound, and the car was listing. I pulled over to the right, turned on the hazard lights, put on a reflective vest and stepped out to look.
The front left tire was absolutely flat. Damn! Damn! Damn! Apart from the inconvenience, it meant more expenses on top of the ones we already have. But my first problem was getting it off and putting on the spare. And it was a bigger problem than I feared. I couldn't squat there on the highway and change it as cars and trucks whizzed by me at plenty more than the 120 kph limit. I needed help. I spotted the SOS calling post a little further back the way we had come, and I went down to it.
When I was standing in front of it, I saw two buttons, one with a white cross on a red background for ambulances, and another with a blue wrench on a white background for mechanical problems. I pressed that one and got a message, in at least three languages, telling me to wait right there. I did, and a man came on. I explained what had happened, with the dangerous thingamajiggy in the middle of the lane, and that I needed help with a flat tire. The man said he had received complaints about the thingamajiggy, and said that a crew would be out shortly to help me. I walked back to the car, checking that there were no leaks from the undercarriage, (there weren't, hallelujah) and settled to wait a little while.
After about twenty minutes, I realized that my fantasy about maintenance crews wandering up and down was just that, a fantasy. I went back to the SOS button and called again. I mentioned I had already called about a flat and wanted to know when the crew would arrive. The man assured me they were on their way; they were passing through Sigüeiro and had to go to Padrón to turn around. I thanked him and walked slowly back to the car. That meant at least a half hour more to wait, probably more. But I needed the official help.
When they finally arrived, almost an hour had gone by since the incident. The van pulled up behind my car, with its large light atop, warning drivers of an obstacle. The first thing of the guys asked me was, "Did you call your insurance for a tow truck?"
Question marks were popping out of my head. "No, I called at the SOS post. I don't need to be towed, I just need help diverting the traffic with your van to change the tire. My spare is fine, and there seems to be nothing else wrong with the car." Yet, the guy insisted that they weren't allowed to help change tires, that they only appeared to help the tow truck take the car to the nearest rest stop. He went on to say it was illegal to change a tire anywhere outside the rest stop, that we would be fined, and he would be fired if his boss should find out. I was beginning to scream inside, thinking I would spend another hour out there because of bureaucratic stupidity. But, he would do me a favor and change it. He and his companion got out some traffic cones, set them up a little into the lane, brought out a garage man's jack from the van, and changed the tire quickly.
I thanked him, and mentioned that the flat had happened when I ran over a strange object in the middle of the lane. He said they hadn't seen anything, and to remember next time to call my insurance for a tow truck. Fine. I got in the car and left, thinking that this couldn't be right. Why else were the SOS posts there for if not to help in times like these? When I mentioned I had a flat, the guy talking on the other end mentioned nothing about calling a tow truck, simply that the maintenance crew were on their way.
When I got home I checked the web page for the company that runs the tollway, but there was really no information. There's only a phone number one can call from Monday to Friday during office hours, apart from a 24 hour phone that must be the number automatically dialed on the SOS posts. The problem is that now I have to buy two new tires thanks to the oversight of maintenance crews that left a solid object on the road. Thankfully, it's only two new tires, but that object could have caused a heavy accident, taking into account that cars and trucks pass by at speeds well above the 120 kph speed limit. I am going to try to see if I can get reimbursed for the two new tires, but I'm not about to hold my breath. If things get dismissed out of hand, I might dive into the nightmare of consumer agencies. I'm getting tired of the little guy being run over all the time. Perhaps in about twenty years I just might get some of my expense back. Perhaps.
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