What's new

Point the camera — the app does the rest

Scan lives in the menu for everyone, signed in or not. It reads any code and acts on what it finds: a member's Para-ID card or an invite opens right there, a payment request lands in the wallet with the amount filled in, a parcel code opens its tracking page, and a ticket hands itself to the checker if you are allowed to check it. A code that leads outside the platform never opens by itself — it stops at a card where you decide. And every code the platform prints now opens the app on Android instead of the browser, whatever language the link carries.

Tickets, from the idea to the turnstile

Tickets have a home: one place to buy what is on sale, sell what is yours, and check what is presented to you. A guided form takes an organizer from “what am I selling” to a live sales page in a few steps — for an event or for a whole transport network — and a manage list lets you edit a ticket or take it off sale in two taps. Selling is now reserved for whoever actually runs the event or the line: a gap that let anyone attach a paid fare to somebody else's bus route is closed, and stray test tickets have been removed from real route pages.

The stop page becomes one departure board

The timetable and the live data used to live in three separate sections; now there is one board where each row tells its own truth: grey for the schedule, yellow with a live clock for a bus on its way, green for one arriving or standing at the stop. Nothing vanishes: a bus we can see but cannot match to the timetable still gets its own row. And any stop can go on a wall — a full-screen board for TVs and tablets with a seconds clock, the weather, and a code that carries the stop into your phone. Boards no longer show long-departed buses out of an aged copy of the page.

A panic button that no longer cries wolf

Getting out of the car — or a speaker or headset dropping its connection — could look to the guard like the volume gesture and raise an alarm from your pocket. It now recognizes an audio device coming or going and resets its count instead of alarming. The armed guard also used to keep the phone from ever sleeping, quietly draining the battery around the clock — the phone now sleeps normally again with the guard on. Both fixes come with app update 1.2.9.

Faces get a fairer reading

A portrait photo fresh off the phone used to be refused with “no face found” — the camera's quarter-turn was never applied; every photo now arrives the right way up, and if something is genuinely wrong, the reason appears on the card, in your language, and stays there. Merely resembling another member no longer blocks your photo: only a true duplicate does, and the people who verify you in person remain the judges of who is who. Each verification is now bound to the exact photo the verifier signed, a replaced photo is visibly marked as not yet attested, and if you wish, your verification photo can double as your Para-ID card photo — one good picture instead of two.

One recording, a whole street, six languages

The water is going off tomorrow, the meeting moved, the gate code changed. Record it once, tick everyone who needs to hear it, and each person gets it in their own language, as speech and as text. You can also type instead of speaking: when the room is too loud, when a street name is easier spelled than said, or when you cannot speak right now. And you choose the voice your messages go out in: six ready voices or your own. Each language is now spoken the way it is spoken here — European Portuguese, Spanish from Spain, French from France — and if a message went out untranslated, both sides see it said so.

A panic button you can aim, that keeps listening

Choose which of your safety groups the gesture on the phone calls — three presses of volume down — and it arrives even with the screen off and the app closed. The lock screen carries an SOS action for the moment the gesture is not enough. The alert leaves with whatever position is at hand and the precise one catches up within seconds; pressing twice reopens the same alert instead of ringing everyone again, and your own phone no longer sirens in your hand. The key left on the device does exactly one thing, can be revoked from any browser, and never travels to a new phone inside a backup.

The phone becomes one console

Every button on the bottom bar carries its name again and not just an icon; the menu and the bar below it fuse into one edge-to-edge field of tiles divided by fine lines. Over the map, search, directions, the route chip and the quest log now belong to a single family of controls instead of three, and panels slide over the control strip. The device tabs no longer run off the side of the screen.

A timetable running out now says so

A feed's health used to measure how long ago we had fetched it — our habit, not the operator's. It now measures the service the timetable still describes: a feed is flagged when fewer than seven days of it remain, not after the stops have already gone empty. When one operator quietly stopped publishing this summer, the old check stayed green until departures vanished; the new one would have warned six days earlier.

Organization pages in your language

Opening hours, features and the type of organization appeared as raw English labels out of the database — days now read as days, and fifty-four features have names in all six languages. A replaced logo appears at once instead of lingering for a week; flat logos and avatars keep their clean edges instead of being smeared by photo compression; and demo organizations no longer bury the real ones in the list.

Speak your language, be heard in theirs

Record a voice message in your own language: the person who receives it hears it in theirs and reads both texts side by side. With your consent it can even be spoken in your own voice — a consent you can withdraw at any moment, which deletes the voice and the recordings it was built from. There is also a live mode for two people at one table: put the phone down between you, the guest's half of the screen is upside down, each side picks its language and speaks in turn. Nothing survives a live conversation — no text, no audio. Thirty minutes a month, free.

An organization runs its own membership

Invite someone, accept a request to join, promote or step someone down — all from the organization's own members page, with us nowhere in the middle. A promotion is offered and has to be accepted, never assigned behind someone's back, and nobody can hand out authority above their own. Joining is by invitation unless the organization opens itself, so a stranger no longer writes themselves into a member list. Transit operators get the same: dispatch, lines and shifts belong to the operator's organization rather than one personal account. And content reports now reach a queue of appointed moderators, with no full administrative access required.

Your router on one page — and nobody's keys but yours

The device card lost its menu of ten items nobody could name. Two buttons remain: show the WiFi password (with a QR code to join with the camera) and Manage, which opens a full page where every setting says in plain words what it does. The page keeps a journal of what was changed on your hardware and by whom, so lending out administration leaves a trace. And claiming a router no longer grants support a quiet standing access to it: help is yours to give — and yours to take back.

The profile became an instrument panel, and a person is one tap away

A public profile no longer shows nine buttons in four styles across three rows. Counters read as figures, actions sit in small groups by what they do — contact, trust, business — and reporting or blocking moved to a quiet row at the end of the page, where they belong. The people you know are now reachable from the site menu anywhere: partners first, everyone else from the second letter on. And from the wallet's send screen, paying a partner is one tap away. The profile also shows the faces of the people who verified you.

Where the data comes from, and what we may pass on

One page — About → Sources — gathers every upstream the platform depends on, transport feeds included, each with the licence exactly as its publisher states it. Where a publisher states none, the page says so instead of leaving a blank. And we stopped relaying feeds nobody ever gave us permission to relay: sixteen of seventeen now serve only our own map, routes and arrival times. A licence that merely exists is not permission.

Calls inside your chat rooms

A group room now carries call buttons: everyone in the room joins the same voice or video call, with no link to send and no separate app to install. One-to-one calls placed from other Matrix apps connect now too — including on mobile networks where they used to fail without a word — because the platform hands those apps a relay of its own.

The navigation bar moved to your thumb

On a phone the bar now runs along the bottom edge, and everything around it was rebuilt to match: map panels rest on top of the bar instead of hiding under it, the menu unfolds upward, and the bar steps aside when the keyboard appears. Sliding across it to pick a section answers with a short tap of feedback — on iPhones for the first time. Tablets and desktops are unchanged.

A resident's idea can become a ballot on its own

Proposing something for your parish, municipality or region no longer waits for anyone's blessing. The support an idea needs now follows the size of the territory — three neighbours in a small parish, 5% of residents where there are more — and reaching it turns the idea into a poll by itself, carrying your text in word for word. Moderation can still take a poll down, but it no longer decides which ideas deserve one.

Euros in, euros out, with the real costs

A new page in the wallet gathers every honest route between euros and bitcoin from Portugal and what each one costs: licensed exchanges, person-to-person with no account at all, and cash in hand. There is also a part about skipping the exchange entirely — phone top-ups, gift cards, paying members in sats. And the wallet's first screen finally explains what a satoshi is, with today's rate to make the number mean something.

A reputation you can also lose

Reputation was rebuilt from the inside. Doing nothing no longer scores above neutral — a profile with unpaid debts and not a single completed contract counted as reliable. Walking away from an agreement after signing it now counts against you. Reviews weigh how many there are and not only their average, so three friendly five-star reviews are no longer a perfect record. And every dimension's ceiling is finally reachable, so effort in the hard places shows.