Before I left the airport Friday night, I had rescheduled my Dublin flight for Tuesday night. I had been told that I could not get a passport until Monday, and I had to redo one of the (have I mentioned MANY) steps for importing the cat, which had to be done the day before we flew. So, I had four days to fix this…
Saturday’s first plan was to order a new passport. I asked the front desk to call me a cab. Instead a car service arrived. I hopped in and asked to go to Newark’s Penn Station. $20 later (yes, another $20, at least this drive seemed further!). Then I hopped on New Jersey Transit, went two stops and hopped off at New York’s Penn Station – that was about $3 in case you are keeping track. And no, that wasn’t a mistake Newark’s station and New York’s station are both called Penn (there is one in Philly too). I never found out how they all keep that straight! Walking out of the station, I noticed a store that did passport photos, so I stopped to get some, as I knew that was one of the things that I needed. Outside to the cab stand, another $12 later, and I was at the emergency passport service, which is actually a couple desks inside of a Liberty Travel (liberal snooping for Holland America Line sales materials was involved).
I filled out all of the paperwork, including a file search request because I did not have a copy of my birth certificate with me. This was one of the major lessons that I took away. I’ve heard many times that you should carry a copy of your birth certificate when you travel, but never having experienced anything like this, I didn’t realize how important it is. So, kiddies, lesson for the day, carry a birth certificate copy in your most secret pocket when you travel. What still confuses me about that, is that I did have a copy of my passport. I piece of paper with foot prints from 35 years ago is more valid ID than a copy of something with a photo from this decade – makes perfect sense right?
I then ran over to the post office, where they have a passport desk that is only open until 11 am – the emergency passport office had opened at 10, so it had to be quick. At the post office, was again told that I needed a birth certificate. I responded that I thought the file search form was in place of that. The friendly(!) clerk says, “that isn’t guaranteed.” Now you tell me that! I was not told that Friday night when I could have actually done something to get my birth certificate. What could I do at that point? The clerk happily took my $157 anyway – wasn’t that nice?
Back to the passport agency where they happily take my $189 (“don’t you have exact change?” “Ah, no” I got the cash from an ATM, they took the trouble to tell me cash, but not exact change – seriously people!). Then tell me that I can pick up the passport Monday – at 5 pm! Five – argh, I have to wait until five – glad I made the reservation for the Tuesday flight and not Monday!
Then back to lovely Newark, stopping for kitty grass (a little treat for Pixie) and litter (I don’t know if they put her in a litter box in Newark, but I hadn’t seen her go since 3 am the previous morning - freaky). I walked back to the train through Manhattan – it was a beautiful day, but cold.
The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to find a vet in Newark that would see us on Monday. Here is the deal, the last step to importing a cat to Ireland is a tick and tapeworm treatment that has to be performed between 24 and 48 hours of leaving the states. They are very strict about that timing, so we needed to see a vet sometime between Sunday night and Monday night, did I mention, in Newark, where I had never been in my whole life.
First off, there aren’t any vets in Newark or the closest towns, that I could find. So, using several maps, yellow pages, USDA website and several minutes on the calling card, I made an appointment for Monday in Manhattan. I didn’t know how I was going to get the cat into Manhattan, but none of the New Jersey vets were open. I decided that I would try again Monday, but at least I had an appointment somewhere.
Sometime Saturday something hit me - the clasp on the pouch that my passport was stored in was actually ripped. That fact had not penetrated my sleep deprivation of the previous night. And, the passport never showed up in my four days in Newark. These two facts have convinced me that the passport was indeed stolen. It was in a black billfold, that I'm sure looked like it contained money. I am also sure that when the evil thief discovered that it was just a passport, threw it in the nearest trash. All that for nothing - but do not fear, it did not leave me with a bad taste of the US. Just New Jersey, sorry Chris.
The evening ended with a terrible pizza at the Howard Johnson café – luckily it was free courtesy of Continental airlines. That was my last voucher in the café, so it was the last time I ate there – so bad!
By the way, I'm not official in the country yet. The immigration office (notice no s) for Waterford is on holiday for the week. No applications will be accepted until next week. Ah well, another week to study for my driver's theory test!
I'm sure you are all wondering about our plan for our first St. Patrick's Day in Ireland. I am excited, although I know that it is not nearly the party fest that it is in the states. Here it is a celebration of the patron saint of Ireland, so I've heard that it is a little more reverent. Our plan is to go down town for the farmer's market and parade, then head to a pub to watch Ireland and Italy play a big rugby match, where I'll scream "Go on!" with the rest of the patrons whenever Ireland is running down the field for a try - a great fun!
More next week - have a great weekend everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment