{"id":648,"date":"2015-12-02T08:34:43","date_gmt":"2015-12-02T16:34:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/transitophile.com\/chango\/?p=648"},"modified":"2019-07-09T10:27:20","modified_gmt":"2019-07-09T08:27:20","slug":"tale-of-three-prepaid-local-sim-cards","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/transitophile.com\/chango\/tale-of-three-prepaid-local-sim-cards\/","title":{"rendered":"Tale of Three Prepaid Local SIM Cards"},"content":{"rendered":"

I fed data to my smartphone in Europe and Africa last month through prepaid local SIM cards bought at three airports: Turkcell<\/a> in Istanbul, Vodafone<\/a> in Budapest, Inwi<\/a> in Marrakech1<\/sup>. I mostly camped happily with what I bought, and am encouraged to share my SIM swappin’ experiences by the blank stares beheld when yakking about such swaps with other travelers. Your continent-roaming codger may know little about this stuff, but others seem to know even less.<\/p>\n

THE BASICS, INADEQUATELY INTRODUCED<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

SIM stands for subscriber identity module<\/a>. SIM cards slip into a tucked-away slot on your smartphone, allow the gizmo to connect with T-Mobile, Verizon, AT&T, the provider of choice.<\/p>\n

\"Micro<\/a>
Micro SIM card photo by Brett Jordan<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

You crave a photo. Cute little bugger, isn’t it? \u00a0Kudos to Flickr user Brett Jordan<\/a> for the shot.<\/p>\n

If your phone is unlocked<\/a> and can fathom<\/a> communication protocols to be encountered abroad<\/a> (as can my modern smartphone), nothing prevents you from swapping in a local standard, micro or nano-sized\u00a0SIM to go online overseas at affordable rates.<\/p>\n

WHAT I USED TO DO<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

I used Verizon global services, as explained in May<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Bucks up? First class flier? Look no further. The bandwidth might have been premium priced, but all I had to do was fire up the phone after touch down; global services Just Worked.<\/p>\n

T-Mobile and other U.S. providers also offer global plans. I haven’t tried them, can neither praise nor pan.<\/p>\n

WHY I EXPERIMENTED<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I had a ticket to Morocco, not covered by a Verizon data bundle. If I didn’t swap SIMs, I’d pay a bank-busting $2.05 per megabyte. In contrast, I could shell out a measly $20 in Marrakech for a prepaid local SIM card providing several gigabytes.<\/p>\n

In for a penny, in for a pound: I decided to SIM swap in Istanbul and Budapest, too.<\/p>\n

SO HOW’D IT GO?<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

I referred often to a SIM wiki<\/a> while researching my trip, and browsed city-specific tripadvisor travel forums<\/a> to learn what cell provider kiosks I’d find in different airports.<\/p>\n

Istanbul:<\/strong> I found kiosks for Turkcell and Vodafone after clearing passport control. I picked Turkcell, showed my passport, signed some forms, paid a now-forgotten price in the $20 range, and received my Turkcell card, with assurances that it would go live within an hour.<\/p>\n

It didn’t go live in an hour, or for my remaining two hours of wakefulness that evening. I brooded about back-up plans while I hit the sack, but discovered the next morning that I wouldn’t need them: the Turkcell SIM had come magically to life. The smartphone start-up messages and settings menus looked as they always had in the U.S.. I had more cheap, prepaid bandwidth than I’d ever need, could tether the smartphone to my computer, watch all my fave Flintstones<\/em> youtube channels right at the Blue Mosque. What a wonderful<\/em> way to experience a great city!<\/p>\n

Budapest:<\/strong> I looked for and failed to find a Magyar kiosk, followed directions to a Vodafone booth in another terminal, and there consulted an amiable clerk with time to hold a tourist’s hand, as no other customers vied for her attention.<\/p>\n

She wasn’t surprised by the wait for Turkcell service, said that prepaid SIMs usually fire up immediatamente<\/em>, but can lie dormant for — get this — as long as forty-eight hours<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I showed my passport, signed more forms, received a wad of fine-printed paperwork for the circular file, and a Vodafone SIM card. The clerk showed me how to enter a new Access Point Name<\/a> in a settings menu.<\/p>\n

Voila! A Vodafone-engined data connection, that came online instantly and ran without hiccups.<\/p>\n

Marrakech:<\/strong> My moment of truth. I’d had my Verizon SIM to fall back on in Istanbul and Budapest. I was in Africa now, understood the hurt that a $2.05 per megabyte charge would put on my wallet, expected to be smartphone-less if I couldn’t succesfully swap SIMs.<\/p>\n

I found an INWI booth, showed my passport, collected more circular file paperwork, and a SIM card. The clerk couldn’t get a local phone number to ring, but I still bade her thanks and farewell after successfully loading web sites in a browser. I had data and a GPS signal without a wait, as in Budapest.<\/p>\n

\"ALSA<\/a>
ALSA 19 bus at Marrakech airport<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Said GPS signal encouraged me to ride the 19 bus into town, guided me via RMaps<\/a> through the winding, twisting spaghetti strand streets of the ancient Medina — intended<\/a> to confuse, when plotted a thousand years ago — as easily as I might have shuffled to a Thousand Oaks strip mall. That GPS signal on RMaps helped me rescue a UK tourist, helplessly wandering the Medina maze with nearly useless Google Maps print-out .pdfs on a tablet computer. (What good are such print-outs if you can’t find street signs?) He was a bright, friendly twenty something, but had obviously never heard of a local SIM.<\/p>\n

I contemplated a transitophile post after helping him, my inadequate knowledge notwithstanding.<\/p>\n

DISADVANTAGES<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n