Visa
Roasting in the relentless heat, I squint at my screen one last time. Okay. So this really isn’t good then?
Planning ahead has never been a strong attribute of mine but then I have become much better at it. Naturally so. It is a huge part of my job. So when it came to planning a two month trip to India I felt fairly comfortable doing it. Vaccinations. Travel. Accommodation. Kit. Insurance. All fairly straight forward. I’ve had help with a lot of it too - Carole (Tony Cann’s PA) has been a huge help.
The Indian Visa was something Tom and I discussed quite a bit. Maybe the relative successes with the other components of the trip gave us a certain arrogance (or confidence) that we would sort out this last hurdle like the nomadic, travelling dons we had become. Wrong. We had magnificently messed up on this one. The ‘four-day E-Visa’ promised to us on every blog, travel website, government guidance page and the Indian Visa website itself turned out to be a suncream-in-your-eyes, headache inducing pack of misinformation. Anyone from the UK can in fact say goodbye to the four day E-Visa. It appears Boris and his merry men annoyed the Indian Embassy enough to withdraw such a privilege.
The nomadic, travelling dons had quickly become first-time travellers sat in front of Sheila at the local Coop Travel Store. Helpless.
“Just send a visa application in the post.”
“Well, we would, but we fly in two weeks and a quick search of google tells us six weeks is the current turnaround time.”
“Okay, can’t you arrange a meeting at the Indian Embassy?”
“Yes, we can! Actually, YES WE CAN! . . . Oh, actually, no, that won’t work. The earliest appointment is the day before we go and then we have to wait another ten days to get the visa.”
“Can you cancel the trip?”
“What?”
“Just ring Carole!”
So we did.
In what felt like the closest I’d ever been to a starring role in a Dan Brown novel, Carole suggested we use an agent who may be able to sort us out. Marc from Scott’s Luxury Travel, based in London, specialises in obtaining visas for those getting into Russia, India and Korea. He’s the man we want. His response to my slightly higher-pitched and twitchier phone call voice was not the reassuring hug I wanted.
“Mate, you have a 50% maybe 60% chance of getting the visa back in time. But I need your passports Monday morning.”
Now, this is 1pm Saturday afternoon. Roasting in the relentless heat, I squint at my screen one last time. Okay. So this really isn’t good then? We’re going to have to go to London . . .
Tesco. Indian Visa photo prints. Drive. Stanmore Station. Tube. Hot. Euston. Post passports. Done. Camden. Beer. Tube. Very hot. Stanmore Station. Drive. Home. 11:45pm. Bed.
Waiting game . . . 60% chance.