Schengen Shennanigans

Wow, I was impressed by the Italian Consulate! They are so organized!

Their website is well put together, with all of the information easily accessible, and it’s fairly comprehensive. You can download the application form and print it out. There is also a nifty and relatively simple list of guidelines/requirements for the visa process. Do not underestimate the virtue of “simple” in the visa process. My nightmarish experiences with the UK website have brought it home to me that simple is key. Once you’ve got all your documentation together (the biggest mission of the whole process) you can go online and make an appointment to appear at the consulate to apply in person. I’m sure you must be able to phone as well, but I prefer to do everything online. Hassle free. The calendar is quick to display and it is accurate, containing a list of the days and times available for you to make an appointment. Once you’ve made an appointment (you will need your passport number as a reference) an email is sent to you confirming the date and time. You need to print this email out and take it with you to the consulate. 

Having collated our myriad documents, we trotted anxiously down to the consulate on Wednesday morning. We were 5 minutes early, full of smiles, and prepared to grovel and be ingratiating towards the Little People who have too much power and are prepared to Wield it. It was totally unnecessary. The anxiety, I mean. The groveling and ingratiating were not called into play even once. We got there and handed over our printed confirmation email. We were sent to sit in a vaguely cell like, rather horrible little room, which was hot as hell and boded ill for the rest of the appointment. However, that was the worst of it. We were only confined to our cell for 5 minutes and then we were sent through to speak to a very Italian (go figure!) looking gentleman, who whisked briskly through our application reams; stapled our photos; took our cash and told us to come back tomorrow to fetch the passports. “What????” I asked. “Tomorrow? Are you sure?”

He smiled gallantly at me (I said he was very Italian, didn’t I?) and said “Yes. Tomorrow. This is not Africa, you know!”

Now, I’m not sure where I’ve been living for the past 33 years. I really did think it was Africa. But I was fully prepared to smile and giggle and depart without correcting him. We left Little Italy feeling almost silly for having been so het up about the whole affair. It was quick, smooth and efficient. A thorough pleasure after the mayhem I experienced at Home Affairs when I renewed my passport….

I must say, though, that we had all of the necessary documentation, neatly sorted and ordered. We had the correct photos. We had enough cash. Check before you go, to see that the amount has not changed, as it is linked to the Euro and might fluctuate. You WILL be sent to the autobank if you do not have the right amount, no matter what you read on the website the week before. The autobank is a short but annoying few hundred meteres away at the Engen garage. A colleague of mine saw this happen to other people when they applied last year.

Ok, I am at work waaay too late now. I keep getting Google Talk messages from N about how alone and how cold he is. And I have the visa receipt that he needs to fetch the passports tomorrow. Clearly this is my cue to go home. 20:15 is admittedly not a respectable time to be at the office. I need to leave. Hold thumbs for a shiny Schengen sticker!!! And then it will be on to the nightmarish UK visa procedure. Oy vey.