Legends from our own lunchtimes

Monday, May 30, 2011

Residency

Despite the brave reporting by yours truly, the relentless pace of our social life is beginning to take a toll. We woke slowly to the delightful news that our celebrations on Friday night had not been wasted, and Jacques' boat had indeed been bought by our fellow Captains from Cambrai.

Shortly after, Bob and Penny disappeared in a cloud of fresh picked strawberries, leaving the rest of us to go about our day's business which, apart from deep and meaningful discussions about a myriad of sculpting painting photography things, and perhaps an hour or two in a monster building supply house finding bits for the boat, was really to attend another meeting with the famous French bureaucracy.

Nothing is straightforward in dealing with immigration people in any country as far as I can tell, and the country that gave us the word bureaucracy is notoriously the manufacturer of the most complex mazes, refusing contact by telephone and email adds a further level of difficulty to the game.

It came as no surprise then, when at the appointed hour, standing before the desk of our "case officer"  the immediate answer to our request to collect our Cards was "NO!".

But there was a very slight, but very clear twinkle in the eye of our adversary. "Not unless you sit down, because if you don't, I will be forced to stand and I am far too lazy to do that", he remarked.

He disappeared for an uncomfortably long period, and came back with two Identity Cards and a receipt marked "gratuit" (no cost). We have no idea why there was no cost, nor why our first cards were issued for ten years, nor indeed why we are allowed to work if we choose, but we couldn't have been more surprised nor grateful.

I don't think we would have been happier if someone had given us a small chateau.
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1 comment

cara said...

hooray! Time to break out the Breton shirts and berets hawheehaw

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