Anywhere.
Strange how easily different places can become familiar and home for a while.
If only countries had no borders. A totally utopian wish I know but what a simpler place the world would be, and more peaceful.
With Visa applications being the first entry point into another country my choice is to do them personally, to go to the Consulate of the country I plan to visit, rather than sending my passport off in the post hoping for the best. These offices have a certain ethnological feel to them, have varying turn around times and fees that say something about the customs and country themselves. You also deal with nationals.
I am now fascinated to see if Russia lives up to the feeling I have from my three visits (so far) to their Consulate. It’s an austere brick building in one of the leafiest streets in an exclusive suburb. The Russian Visa Application form must be completely filled in electronically or it will not be accepted. Visit one=refusal because I had handwritten the answer to two questions that did not appear on screen, only on the printed version in all three attempts. It’s a form that takes about an hour to complete the first time as it includes a list of all countries visited in the past ten years, the day, month and year of the same (thank heavens for passport stamps), the last two places you have worked along with your present employment and month and year, assurance that you are covered for medical insurance, the institutions where you have studied since high school, your parents full names, and must be accompanied by a letter from a Russian Agent who will be your ‘tourist host company’ complete with reference and confirmation numbers (something you have to pay for).
Visit two was fascinating - electronically complete, forms in hand, while waiting in a queue for an hour two women well versed in queue hopping jumped in and went straight to the one window, where signs in Russian presumably says Visas, to be served by the man with a now familiar face who ensured each turn took about 15 minutes. The woman in black waiting behind me commented on this lack of manners: “I wonder if it will be like this when we get there” (my thoughts entirely). The very beautiful, tall blonde on our right responded in a heavy Russian accent “I don’t know vhy anybody vould vant to go to Russia”. “Is it that bad?” “There are a few vorse countries. Not many.”
Never before has the number 4 proved so important in my life. Failing to comply I was sent away again to change a single numeral on my form. “Ve only accept electronic forms.” One tiny number that could have been changed with a pen and an initial vas “not allowed”. So a round trip of an hour, another 3/4 hour to complete a new form as you cannot edit an application online, and I returned to a half closed gate 5 minutes before closing time to find the same two who had been smoking outside both times previously. I smiled and it felt as if they acknowledged my familiar face with a sense of irony.
So my Russian journey has begun. Tomorrow will tell if my application has been successful or not as I go back again to a different window to collect my passport. Friends have told me St Petersberg is fascinating. Fingers crossed I get to see it.
