EU Diaries - the Swiss Embassy Day

Woke up and caught the train to catch the bus to the Swiss embassy. Yesterday i had looked up the bus number, route, stops etc and we had got kinda lost. After telling me in no uncertain terms that i am useless at maps and directions, a thing i think he took personally given what he does, the dude took it on himself to plan the journey. Go to station A, catch bus B, get down at stop C, turn left and walk 20 steps and whatnot. And then we went to station A and got onto bus Z and got lost all over again :D

We walked into the Swiss embassy and told this girl there our sob story. She took some time to understand why Indian tourists were in the Swiss Embassy in Italy. Then she tool all of our documents and came back 20 mins later to tell us that since we were dont with the swiss leg of our journey and were going to France, we should ask the French people for a Visa. We had to convince her that she was our only hope. Very reluctantly she took in our papers and made copies of every one of them. Did you read that, Indian Embassy? She said she would try her best, but it all depended on whether the Swiss Consulate in India sent her the information she needed. Dude had asked Bhai to contact the Swiss Embassy in India, so we knew they were ready and willing. "Call me tomorrow morning, and i'll let you know if you if you need to come", she said. We paid up the Visa fees and got out to a fine Roman mid-morning.

Next stop - the French embassy. We wanted to know if there was any chance we could fly into France without a Visa. They said haha.

We then went to the Pantheon and walked from there to the fountain of Trevei and had gelato there (much hyped, IMO). Got back to the hotel, had slightly better Upma for lunch and then just lazed around. In the evening we went to the Spanish steps. Got back. Pasta again. By this time, the dude had discovered some huge knives in the kitchen and was lost to all useful activity. Some childhood show, it seems, where some guy comes and does funky things with big knives. He went at all vegetables we had with the knife, i think that was the most excited he was during the entire trip.

All during the day, i had the pre-exam feeling in my stomach. I kept dreading the phone call that would decide whether we got to go back home according to plan. You see, the day was Thursday, tomorrow would be Friday and our return ticket from Paris was on Sunday. If we didnt get a Visa on Friday, we'd have to stick around in Rome till Monday (at the least) and look for other flights home and what not. The dude however, was fine. Better than fine. I dont know if he had a dream about it or something, but he knew that we would get the Visa tomorrow. For a change, i was the worrier.

EU Diaries - The Indian Embassy Day

(There is this Tamil play by Kathadi Ramamurthy (Ayya amma ammamma) in which the husband is forced to study for a promotion by his wife. Whenever they want to show that he is studying, they make him repeat - Indian Economy. Indian Economy. Indian Economy is the best economy. Because India doesnt have an economy. Cracks me up every time i think of it. Dont ask me why i just wrote that here).
Armed with lots of copies (the dude asked the hotel people to print stuff out for us and they did! Just like that!) and photos* which we got taken on the way to the embassy. The by-the-book guy had turned into going-out-of-his-way-to-help-you guy (except when he made us run around for xeroxes) and he pushed us to the front of the queue so we could submit our stuff right now and they could start working on it right now and give us a passport by 5 in the evening. Pretty awesome, no? Even if they charge you handsomely (actually, they charge you drop-dead-gorgeously), its great to see emergency procedures that actually work!
Off we went to the swiss embassy to ask for a Visa. Why? Because our return tickets were from Paris and we were in Rome and to get from Rome to Paris we needed a Visa but the Swiss people were the best bet for us since they were the ones who had given us our original Schenzen Visa. Whew.
We got down at the wrong bus stop and walked to the Swiss Embassy, which, at 12.20 in the afternoon, was done for the day. ##$$%^#&#!@. And then some.
We caught a bus back and then caught a train to get back to the hotel, had lunch, got a train, went to the Indian Embassy, where there were too many people being issued passports and everyone other than us was a Sardar and it made no sense but who cares WE HAD OUR PASSPORTS! We came out, danced a little dance, and caught a train to go see the Colosseum. Which shuts at 5 in the evening. Colosseum from the outside, Colosseum from the inside. Potaeto. Potaato. If you want to tell me its not the same, dont. I have it on the authority of the receptionist with the fine sense of humour that it is all the same. We walked around, saw the ruins from afar and got back to the hotel. Dude-made pasta for dinner**. It was awesome.



* Fun fact. The stolen purse also had the only comb we were carrying. So essentially, i was combless for 5 days. Passport photo? With uncombed hair. Visa photo? Why yes, with uncombed hair. Sadly, i dont think you can tell.

** I cut the vegetables, okay?

EU Diaries - Roman Holiday

So, Rome. We got out at the train station and straight went to enquiry to get a map and directions to the Indian embassy. Fortunately, it was walkable distance from the train station. But as we discovered, having to carry around 4 bags of luggage changes the limits of walkability. But, we walked. And reached this tiny hole in the ground type place (seriously, it is underground). The guy there at first seemed very... whats the word... by the book. Its too late now, why didnt you come sooner, come back tomorrow with copies of this, that, the other and your grandmother. Of course we had no copies of anything. We decided to go to the hotel and run our campaign from there. All the way, i kept praying that the hotel have Internet. It would make ALL the difference. I had booked the hotel and it not having Internet would make me feel more like an idiot than any person should ever have to feel.

We got off at the wrong station and dragged our luggage all over again, but finally got to the hotel. Where a receptionist with bad english but a fine sense of humour gave us our room keys and, wait for it, the wi-fi password! At that moment, only finding the lost passports could have made me happier. Or so i thought. We opened the room and found the following:

- an extremely well equipped kitchenette
- bunk beds

Suddenly, life was looking up. Its when the big shit goes wrong that you appreciate the small stuff. We contacted and recruited our respective brothers for finding copies of  whatever they could find copies of. (Those two should be given something for all the trouble we put them through. Listen, you two, if you ever lose your passport (please dont! but if you do), rest assured that i will make for you all the copies any official ever wants you to make.) The dude made upma for dinner. It was bad but it made me very very happy.

We went to sleep early. Tomorrow we knew would be a long day.

EU Diaries - Where do i begin

(getting this out in parts, since i have given up on being able to chew it whole)

Let me start by telling you what we saw in Rome. In order of appearance, the Indian Embassy, the Swiss Embassy and the French Embassy. Some Italian &^@%!^ stole my handbag on the train from Milan to Venice and that handbag had both our passports. [Pause for effect]. So. Most of the time in Rome was spent in persuit of new passports and Visas. Our hotel in Venice was the worst possible under the circumstances – it had neither a phone nor Internet, so we couldnt reach information and people with information couldn’t reach us. We finished off Venice in one evening (walked to St Marks Square and got back on a Vaporetto) and reported early Tuesday morning at the police station to file our report.

The policeman started out looking like a man with an attitude but turned out to also have a sense of humour. The dude was filling out the forms and hesitated while filling out my birthday. “Isnt he supposed to know that”, asked the policeman and even air-slapped him a couple of times for me :D The keys to my suitcase were also gone with my handbag so basically I didn’t have any clothes to change into. We asked him for a plier and broke into our own bag, with the policeman looking on encouragingly. By which I mean of course that the dude went at it with the plier while I looked on in awe.

With the police report we pushed off to Rome. I felt happy and light, I thought we were at the end of all the troubles. HA!