The Visa Run Complete

 

Remember this pile of paper?  Well, its time to carry it to LA.

 

 In my quest for official sanction to be with My Heart, I have to play ball with the Austrians.  Specifically with my fine Austrian pals at the Consulate General in Los Angeles.  My new pals were desirous of my bio-metric data prior to deigning the issuance of my "D" visa for a six-month stint in Vienna.  Early Thursday morning I boarded my first flight of the day, from Seattle to LA, for my fifteen minute appointment.  By 9:30 AM I was in my crappy rental car crawling up The 405 to Wilshire Boulevard, West LA Baby!  I arrived two and a half hours early, but my pals bumped my appointment up and accepted my stack of documents, my passport and $109 US.  A few questions, the aforementioned fee, a completed FedEx return envelope (more on that later) and I was out the door, fist pumping celebrations in the privacy of the hallway.

My tasks seemingly complete, it was time for lunch.  Just across the street from the consulate was a taco joint and it was calling my name.  I had just tucked into a platter of fishy goodness wrapped in tortillas when my cel phone chirped.  Austrian Consulate flashed across the screen.  This will not be good thinks I to myself.  It was not.  Following the requirements of the Viennese authorities, we had registered my address in Vienna.  The Consulate folks took this to mean that I was already living in Vienna and this is against the rules.  The very firm voice on my phone informed me that I would have to unregister prior to being granted a visa.  Bummer.

I glumly finished my lunch, sent some sad messages to my Baby in Wien, and retired to a nearby cigar lounge for what should have been a celebratory stick to kill time until my 6 PM onward flight.  Okay, breath in, breath out, come up with a plan.  With a nine hour time difference, My Heart started booking an appointment with the magistrate in Wien.  We could do this.  They wouldn't keep us apart, would they?

Regardless, the trip must go on.  I was bound from LA to Tucson to see The Kid.  Back down The 405, I dropped off the car and headed into the maw of LAX and on to Tucson.  Another rental car and I was driving south, through the desert night to Green Valley AZ,  the home of the Maternal Unit.  Not my best day.  Goddamn Bureaucrats!  

Friday brought family interaction and some fast international footwork.  I called the Consulate in LA and explained that I needed a copy of my passport sent to me so I could get it to the magistrate in Wien.  

When the woman asked me my name I said "Etheridge, Marco Etheridge." 

"Oh, like Melissa Etheridge?"  

"Yes, like my cousin Melissa."  (yeah, like fourth cousin twice-removed.  I left that part out)

"You're related to Melissa Etheridge?  Wow, I love her!"

"Yes, she's great isn't she?"

"I'll make sure you get that copy.  Don't worry about this, everything is going to be okay."

Ten minutes later I had an email with a bad PDF copy of my passport, which I quickly sent off to Wien along with the required de-registration form.  My Baby already had an appointment set up with the magistrate.  All we could do now was wait until Monday, Viennese Time.

Time for fun!  I headed back North to Tucson to fetch The Kid.  It had been over a year since I set eyes on the Genetic Envelope.  Joy! to see the two meter high offspring, newly bestowed with a UofA diploma.  All grown up he is and making me feel all bursting proud.  We dined on gourmet burgers followed by Tuscon's best java.  Then is was back down to Green Valley (neither green nor a valley) to endure (sorry Carol) some Grandma time before setting out on a road trip across southern Arizona.

Our destination, chosen by The Kid, was Bisbee, a mining town perched in the rocks of Southeast Arizona.  We poked along the two lane highways, avoiding US 10.  Well stocked with Grandma supplied provisions, we wandered through the tourist town of Tombstone and on towards Bisbee.  Ahead of schedule and needing to explore, we veered off of our route on AZ 90, dropping down out of the hills to the San Pedro Riparian area, a rare year-round river that runs North from the Mexican border.

The oasis of the San Pedro on a gorgeous winter day.

The tallness himself.

We enjoyed the afternoon along the river, watching a few birds, pushing a tumbleweed down the flow, messing about.  Then it was back on the road for the now short drive to Bisbee, home of the Copper Queen Mine.

The big pit that made Bisbee famous.  When the price of copper finally fell too low in the 1970's, the mine was closed.  The miners left town and the hippies and artists moved in, buying up the homes amongst the tailing piles for a few hundred dollars.  The alternative Bisbee was born.

The doorway to the "Free Store" in Bisbee, where folks leave stuff they don't want so other folks can use it.  Alternative, see?

 

What does one do in Bisbee after dark?  Go on the Ghost Tour!!  Back in the Old Days, the Bisbee folks killed each other with some regularity.  Hence the damn town is full of ghosts, haunting the old hotels and shops.  The tour was a hoot, whether one believes in the spirit world or not.  Our host, Renee, is in the foreground of this photo.

Bisbee is perched in, amongst, and on top of shelves of rock.  Many of the homes are accessible only by means of steep stairs, far from any road access.  Note the classy dwelling in the top right of the photo.

Sunday found us at our Air B&B digs with our host's five dogs.  Alternative, see?  We packed up, had a great brekkie in town, and hit the road for Tucson.  I had to get The kid back to his girlfriend in one piece and get myself back to Seattle to continue the visa quest.  Other than a nice chat with a local constable outside of Sierra Vista, the trip was uneventful.  We arrived in Tucson, destroyed an enormous pizza, and I bid The Kid a rueful adieu.  I miss him already.  

Now, through the miracle of blog time travel, I am sitting in my shop in Seattle.  And the visa tale?  What happened?

Today, Tuesday, returning home from running errands, I found a FedEx envelope abandoned on my front doorstep.  Just sitting there.  I rushed inside, plopped myself and the envelope at my kitchen table, and ripped that bad boy open.  Inside was my passport.  Flipping through the pages I found it!!  A beautiful full page visa glued into my passport!!  But how is this possible?  It had only been Monday when i sent the consulate the required additional documents.  Amazing, wonderful!!  Who cares?  I sped the good news on to My Baby, a wonderful Goodnight Gift.  

The answer seems to be this:  while one minion at the consulate was requesting other documents, another minion had already processed the visa.  One of my fine Austrian pals was making my dreams come true at the same time another pal was plunging My Baby and I into frenetic document gathering.  In the end, who gives a Rat's Ass?  The Travel Gods smiled and made it so.  Even the horror at seeing my passport abandoned by FedEx fades away in the joy of knowing that this thing is a reality, the biggest hoops passed through and the obstacles cleared.  

All that remains for me to do is a few house tasks and the determined selling of stuff to lighten the load.  The visa saga is over, for now.  The journey continues.  February 27th I will bid farewell to the USA and take up my new residence in Wien.  We did it Baby!!!

 

The Visa Run

Visa Run documents all in a tidy row.  Don't forget a single piece of paper or it's no visa for you, Bucko!

The limits on permitted in-country time imposed by most governments are the bane of travelers everywhere.  Hang around a group of travelers long enough and you will inevitably hear tales of a visa run.  "Yeah, I was in Southern Thailand, way down by Hat Yai and heading for Tarutao but I was almost up on my thirty days.  I made a visa run across into Malaysia, got the stamp, and I was back across and good for another fifteen.  Don't know where I'm going next, but I'm out of time here in Thai."

So it goes.  In Europe, the Gub'mints got together (European Union Pun!!!  Hahahah.  Sorry, hanging head in shame) and came up with the Schengen rules.  Bah!  The Schengen rules basically blend a whole bunch of the main European countries into one set of visa rules, more or less.  The key is that a traveler such as myself can be in country ninety days during a six month period.  By most standards, this is a pretty generous allowance as compared with many of the Asian countries.  For the ninety day "visa" I only have to show up in Frankfurt with a valid passport and a return ticket, although the Polizei have never checked the ticket.  

And the problem is?  Well, suppose you are madly in love with a smart, gorgeous and funny Austrian woman.  Would you want to be away from said person three months out of every six months?  I don't think so.  Hence the next step, the Entry Visa.  This is the foot-in-the-door visa.  It is good for six months of continuous time in Austria with allowances for travel in other Schengen countries.  The other cool thing about the Entry Visa is that the Austrian folks insist on Biometric Data as part of the application package.  Biometric Data means finger prints, even though I hold a Global Entry card and have been finger-printed prior.  The finger print requirement means that I have to fly to Los Angeles for a fifteen minute appointment at the consulate.  

Very early Thursday morning I will be winging it South with my precious stack of documents.  If all goes well, I will have my passport back in about fifteen to twenty days and in my passport will be a shiny new Austrian Visa.  If not I am sort of screwed since I had to by the ticket in advance as part of the visa package.   Once again it is time to throw it all to the care of the Travel Gods and trust that things will work out.  

 

Hoops and News

In the prototypical romance novels the plucky couple defy the odds of life's stormy seas and end up jumping in the sack as the music swells and .... FIN.   There are the inevitable difficulties that the lovers face but,  aside from a lot of heaving bosoms atop the castle walls, their distress is ended by the aforementioned into-sack-jumping.

I admit that I sometimes feel that I am living in a modern romance novel.   Even with that occasional delusion, the reality of moving halfway around the world for Love is not a fairy tale.  Our story is not about mooning around the castle walls waiting for ones schnookums to come riding out of the mists.  I find it very vexing that there is not some deity-like Author who is in charge of this and I just a piece of flotsam on the tide of the story.  It would just be so much easier.

Without trying to sound too bitchy, here is the somewhat less glowing reality of what has to happen to get our two lovers Rolling in Each Others Arms.  First, our characters live 5,365 miles apart.  Oops.  Despite the initial fun of watching folks moon over "how romantic" it all is, if you are the one actually doing the commuting, it starts to suck after awhile.  So, someone has to move.  I guess this seems simple enough.  Get rid of your house or apartment, get rid of all that bulky furniture, sell the stuff you can sell, happily walk away from your jobby-job (okay, that was easy!!).  Ready to go, right?  No, in real life, our happy couple can't just flee to Guilder or Flanders and be safe there forever.  Nowadays we have international boarders which are controlled by Gubmints.  The Gubmint Men, they want to know who is a'comin and a'goin in and out of their country, particularly if someone wants to stay longer than a tourist.

Enter the Visa Monster.  When you pass from tourist visa into long-term visa, things get trickier.  No visa, no way to stay in-country.  In the Schengen Agreement countries of Europe, a tourist traveler can be in-country 90 days in any six-month period.  This is a simple matter of having a valid passport and not being on anyone's list.  So far so good.  Want to stay longer than 90 days?   Now you need a "D" Visa for Austria.  Not the hardest thing in the world, but it does require a trip to the consulate in Los Angeles to give up the Biometric Data.  You give them your passport, $109 US for consulate fees, a stack of documents showing you are a good person and no financial risk, and hopefully you get your visa.

The reality of dropping the lid on the box of my Seattle Life is a series of checklists and very, very unromantic work.  The work has to happen so I can fully embrace My Heart and my Wien Life.  Besides the visa requirements, there is the renting of the house (done, thank Dog!), packing, selling, giving away, etc, etc.  All of the aspects of this process reinforce the release of a life, the stepping off the edge without a safety line, the illusion that there ever was a safety line.

So I make lists, I do tasks, I book flights for LA, for Vienna.  I take wild leaps of faith.  I trust that if there is some creative author behind this whole tale, they have a sense of humour.  And I trust in My One calling me home, calling me back across the ocean.  Okay, that part is pretty romantic.

The mundane duty of these tasks has taken a bite out of my writing time.  I apologize for the dearth of Blog Posts over the last few days.  I promised that there would be an important announcement and I did not intend for that to seem like such a pot-boiler ending.  Nonetheless, all in good time My Pretties, all in good time.  So here is the announcement.

My career in the Salt Mines is over and my career as a freelance writer is beginning.  It follows that as a writer, I should be writing things.  To celebrate this new chapter in my life (Oh!!  Down bad pun, down I say!)  I have begun work on a serial, a work of fiction written in installments.  I will create a separate blog that will consist of serial chapters posted weekly.  The serial will be free, of course, although I will put a copyright on it.  I like the idea of working without a net.  The readers, if there are any, will be able to watch (or suffer) as the story evolves.  Readers will also be able to post comments on the story in progress.  "You bastard!!  You killed Agnes!! She was my favorite character!!"  Look for the first chapter to appear in about a weeks time.  I hope to write something that will be entertaining, nothing more.  And I hope it will be worthy of a read by one or two folks.  Stay tuned and thank you.

What You Wish For

The Travel Gods are a funny bunch.  They are as capricious as any Greek God ever thought about being, although the Travel Gods have a much more finely crafted sense of humour.  Fortunately for me, the Travel Gods seem to fond of me in much the same way one is fond of a moronic but cute puppy.  

Case in point.

On Monday I arrived back in the Good Ol' USA, the land of possibility, where any natural-born citizen can become the President.  Anyone.  Even an appallingly coiffed bellicose dogmatist can aspire to, and achieve, the Presidency (provided he or she have the dough-re-mi).  Sorry, was I digressing?

Ahem.  At noon on Monday I arrived back in the USA after fifteen hours in transit.  I received a warm greeting from my Brothers here in Seattle.  With their conversation and camaraderie I managed to stay awake to a more appropriate bedtime, as opposed to falling on my face at 1 PM in the afternoon.   Tuesday was to be my first day back at work, including the commute down to Portland.  Nothing like jumping right back into the fray.

My Pals the Travel Gods had other ideas.  Within minutes of stepping into my office on Tuesday morning, my employer said "We need to talk..."   Having lived a good long time on this Earth and having known a few women in that time, I have a clear grasp on what happens after "We need to talk."  At this point in my life if I hear those words I just respond with "No we don't, Honey" and start packing my gear.  And so it was to be on this day.

Here is a helpful etiquette tip for any of you who continue to toil for  The Man:  If you are sitting in your Boss Man's office and he is laying you off, a Happy-Joy-Joy Booty-Dance is going to ruin his or her day.  I didn't really mean to get all swept up in the moment, but when we got past the "blah-blah-blah economic pressure blah-blah someone has to go blah blah" and suddenly we were on to Severance Package, well, my Booty-Shaker got the best of me.  Employers HATE IT when you are happy to be laid off.  Elation at the prospect of unemployment reverses the entire process for the Downpressor.  It confuses the poor devils.

I spent the rest of the morning making uncomfortable lay-off jokes as I packed my shite and giggled.  "Nothing more awkward than an employee carrying his personal box out of the office" I said over-loudly as I carried my personal box out of my office.   May as well ham it up for the last hour.   A few more "Free at Last, Free at last" quotes and I was out of there.

I wished for more time to travel.  I received exactly what I wished for.  Now I have eight weeks to pack up and rent my house, secure my Austrian visa and get my butt back to Vienna where I belong.

My days packing other people's loads in the Salt Mines have come to an end.  My days of referring to myself as a Freelance Writer are just beginning.  The level of pretense that comes with saying "I'm a freelance writer" is astounding.   Well, this ought to be fun.  

Nest up:  Fun with Visa Folks and A Very Important Announcement.

Ciao for now Friends and Neighbors. 

A Hearty Meal...

The condemned man are a heart meal.  

We choose Pizza as the appetizer for our last meal in Vienna.  Or, more accurately, for my last dinner in Vienna for awhile. Tomorrow in the early AM I will be winging my way stateside via the usual route of Wien-Frankfurt-Seattle.  

What better to follow Pizza than Pasta?

Warm food for a frosty evening.  It is bitter cold here in Wien with the Mercury hovering below zero Grad all day.  And still I will be sad and mopey tomorrow. 

I don't want to leave, but I have a house to empty and rent, vehicles and guitars to sell, and an Austrian Visa to obtain. Busy busy busy little Bokononist.  

Eight weeks.  That is the time line.  Once I am into action the mope factor won't be quite so bad.  I will enjoy the company of my Brothers, whom I have missed, miss My Baby terribly, whom I love, and do what I have to do to get my ass back to Wien forthwith.  

Prosit Neu Jahre

Every culture has it's own unique customs for ringing in the new year and Austria is no different.  One of the customs here is the giving of charms to bring good luck in the coming year.  All over town the Christmas stands of last week become the good luck charm stands of this week.  Lucky Pigs and Chimney Sweeps are the traditional charms, but the variety includes cats, elephants, and even silly pig hats.  We visited a friend at her stand in the Alterlaa complex and the trade in luck was brisk indeed. 

The Alt Stadt of Wien takes the celebration of the New Year seriously. The wide shopping streets and narrow old lanes are hung with glimmering lights, the ubiquitous puntsch stands are crowded with chilled revelers while waltz lessons are offered in the open spaces between stands. The night is alive with crowds and light and music. Stages for live music are set up at the larger plazas.  In the walking street between stages, DJs spin waltzes alternated with rock n' roll.  

To get to the Alt Stadt, we had to run the gauntlet of the Opera Ghouls.  These poor costumed touts try to corral tourists into buying tickets for one of the many classical music programs that run everyday here.  

The revelers begin to gather as the shadows grow long and the last cold night of 2015 begins. 

When in Rome. Yours Truly with a Cubano puro and a pig mug.  Good luck for me!!

Our lucky 2016 pig mugs getting an early start on the midnight kissing. Table space at the stands is at a premium so we improvised our own from a plastic garbage can.  

As the last of 2015 waned, the crowds grew. Frequent hot drinks are a requirement for warding off the chill. Have Pig Mug, will travel. We strolled beneath the magic lights as folks drank, laughed and waltzed on the cobblestones. 

One of the many music stages set up in the Alt Stadt. This band was ripping through some nice renditions of R&B standards with the lead singer doing a pretty fair Joe Cocker tribute.  I joined in on "Try a Little Tenderness," which cracked My Baby up.  

Full night and full chill did nothing to slow down the crowd at the Rathaus. The lights and music transformed the city hall into a winter fairyland. 

Here is a video link to the festivities:

http://youtu.be/6bB_N9Ijhfc

The Jumbotron says it all. 

The Habsburg Palace wearing it's finery for the last night of the year. 

Chilled through and tired we headed for the warmth of home.  The party gets crazy by midnight and our frozen toes were not going to last any longer.  Home and warm we rang in the New Year in our own way as the fireworks exploded all around us. 

The citizens of Wien take New Years Eve fireworks to heart in a personal and spectacular way.  Hours before midnight our neighborhood was echoing with explosions and the night lighted by the flashes.  There was no need of a clock to know when 2016 arrived.  The cachopony and dazzling display of rockets left no doubt. 

Warm and snug in our bed, we finally drifted off into the first sleep of the New Year despite the continuing barrage of fireworks.  

2015 has been a momentous year for me, a life-changing and amazing year. I look forward to the promise of 2016 with awe and joy.  I wish all of you the same joy for the coming year and Prosit Neu Jahre!!!

Tasty Wien Treats

Sometimes it is just about the food.  I remember overhearing a conversation one hot afternoon along the Mekong River.  A woman was sitting at a table reading a book, the remains her lunch in front of her.   A second woman leaned over to her from another table and asked "Why do you come to Thailand?"  The first woman looked up from her book and replied with two simple words:  "The food."  She smiled and returned to her reading. 

I have never forgotten that brief exchange.  From my experience, the joy of discovering new foods is one of the great benefits of traveling.  Whether it is Wurst in Wien or Curry in Colombo, there is always a new flavor or aroma waiting to be discovered and savored. 

One of my new food discoveries here in Wien is Apfelpastete.  A type of liver wurst pate', this spreadable treat is made from pork liver, chicken meat, and chicken fat. It is topped with apples in an aspic-like jelly.  I know, it sounds a bit weird. 

While it is not the most visually attractive of foods, spread on a hearty Brot it is, in fact, a tasty treat. 

Pepi's Speisekarte sporting a dozen varieties of Leberkäse.   

Any winter jaunt in Wien will of necessity require a warm food stop.  My Baby and I set out to join the crowd on the cold streets of Wien, eager to take part in the festivities for New Years Eve.  What better place to start than Pepi's?   Tiny, warm, and packed full of revelers taking a break from the freezing temperatures, it was a cozy refuge.  

As I have posted before, Leberkäse is one of my street food staples here in Wien. Now I had the chance to show off my spot to a native of the Stadt!!

The lovely loaves of Lebenkäse nestled in their steamy glory!

Mmmmmm!!  Warme Speisen!!

My Pikant im Semmel in the foreground and My Sweetie's Chili-Käse im Semmel, hot grub for cold festivities. 

Warmed, fed, and ready, we stepped out into the biting cold of the last evening of this year.  The Alt Stadt was awash in magical lights and thronged with merry-makers.  But that is the stuff of the next post. 

Prosit Neu Jahre!!