Trip Interrupted

I am in England. I’ve been here since Sunday. But I haven’t been able to write about it because part of this trip is a secret appearance at my friend James’ stag do.

If you are reading this on Saturday I am probably settling into a vodka tonic at Haydock Park or sampling the nightlife of that jewel of the north, Wigan. If you’re reading this on Sunday, I should be nursing a hangover and hurtling back over the Pennines to my parents in Leeds as fast as possible.

But that’s not the reason for the cryptic silence—that, I am afraid to say, is a sadder story. Because the main reason I took such an early Christmas vacation was to sort out some visa paperwork at the US embassy in London. It was supposed to be a formality. But at the embassy on Monday I was told that my crinkled passport was unacceptable and my application was suspended until I could produce a new one.

Forty eight hours and £108 later I had a new passport. Twelve hours and £53 after that a courier picked up my passport and took it to the US embassy for processing. If the white form that the embassy gave me (along with the request for a further $104 to add to the initial £60 visa processing fee) is correct then it will take a further 10 to 15 business days to process my visa.

I don’t have 10 to 15 business days. I have flights booked. I have Christmas plans. It’s a waiting game now to see how fast I can get my passport (with visa) back. It’s not been the best of weeks. I haven’t seen the sun since I left Copenhagen on Sunday morning en route for England.