: : London Baby Yeah? : :
Friday, September 05, 2003
London Baby Yeah?
Like every young Australian I have grown up with a blasé attitude towards my colonising motherland. Framed within my spacious terra nullius, basking in excessive sunshine, driving along the glorious coastline of sandy white beaches, talking with common people who easily understand my strine and of course woofing down those sensational dinky di meat pies (with sauce please), I really had no time for contemplating a connection that is 200 years old.!!!!! However, like every young Australian, I had the indescribable pull that we all for some reason feel between 18-30 years of age to return to my convict forefathers home, and alas, it was my time for "doing London".
No Australian can really tell you why they want to go there, its just part of the right of passage I guess. I wasn't heading for the usual 2-year work permit stint, just a pop over to visit my mate Dario.
Now this trip had the makings of being the vilest hangover I have ever experienced as well as resembling something of a National Lampoon Vacation home video.
The mistake I made was that I had been living in Paris for 2 months before I visited London.
Why was this a mistake? Well for the latter, Paris is the most beautiful city I have ever been to. I am without words to describe the feeling of contentment and calmness this city brings to you with its architecture... Now not to trash London too much, it is a nice city, but just does not have the flair that Paris does, for me ;)
And as for the hangover? It had been nearly 6 months since I had seen Dario and we were right primed for a night of rampaging and clubbing that would resemble something like Animal House vs. Human Traffic...
The fun continued…so it goes like this. With your visa from the consulate, this lasts 3 months, and then you have to apply for the remainder of the year when you are located (and housed – preferably with your name on a rental contract, hint there for the future France visitors). And let me tell you now, how it all went down.
1st, we get up at the crack of dawn to get to the office early, so that we can get in within the 9 –11 am opening hours. They had moved the office.
2nd, next day, same crack of dawn, we go to the new office location, only to find out, that they don’t actually deal with the student visa, and give us the right office.
3rd, same day, we go to the right place (the prefecture) and que up, outside of the building!
Finally when we get in the building, we head down stairs and through security only to have my documentation checked, and am informed that I need my birth certificate translated into French. !!!!!!!Which makes sense really, being born in Australia and all…
4th, sour grapes aside, on another day I approach the Australian embassy looking for comfort in the arms of my beloved ambassadorial representative, only to have them spit in my face and charge me 17€ for a bloody authorised notation that they had viewed my birth certificate…Not to bag them too much, later in the year they invited me and the team to celebrate the new 12 month working visa for France/Australia…
So armed with my new documentation and about 10 photocopies of everything, I ventured back to the prefecture.
5th, get the all clear from the document checker downstairs. Am given passage to the promised land of French visas, the upstairs waiting lounge, where we sit for about an hour before being called. Its good, I get the all clear. Now, I have to go back downstairs to another checkpoint to get a medical rendezvous…
And this is where we came in…The hangover, forgot about that by now I guess…Well as it turned out, they booked my medical (and you need one to get the visa in France) the day I was due back from my binge weekend. So no party, party, party for me. I played the boring tourist with a 2 beer minimum. Had to fly back and then spend 2 hours in the scorching sun looking for this damn free clinic!
London Baby Yeah? Not this time. Was good to see old friends though, I must admit, the highlight of the trip! pics here
