The Tortuous Torturous Process to Tuscany

Benoit and I are planning to spend the last two weeks of July on holiday. One week at his parents' summer house in Ile de Re and the second week driving around Tuscany. We did everything well in advance-- booked an appointment with the French Consul in London, got our papers ready, bank statements and attestation d'accueil to let them know that a French family is going to house me and make sure I don't TNT.

Then I got the letter from the embassy.
Your visa has been granted and must be collected within 80 days. You may come and collect it at 3.00 pm on MONDAY 25 JULY 2005 (?!?!!!!)

HELLO! Tanga ba kayo? o maitim lang ang budhi?!!!? July 13 ang alis ko! Tapos yung VISA ko July 25? Kaya pala bino-bomba yung mga embassy ninyo! PuNeta.

Calm deep breaths. Then when I told Benoit siya naman: SHIT! The bastards...

So what did he do? He took the Monday off and stayed with me an extra day just so he could accompany me to the embassy. We dressed up. I TRIED not to look like a tart. He shaved, put on a shirt and tie and his office trousers and we headed off hand in hand, trying not to mind the queesiness in our stomachs.

When we got to the embassy, we waited in line for about an hour and when we got there, he spoke to the guy in charge of the line who referred us to another woman who dealt with the irregular cases. Good. Benoit is good with the ladies. (No, not in that way. Ako lang yun.) He turned on the little boy charm and started speaking to her in French (which made her warm up to him. She wasn't very nice to everyone else). The snappy tone and the sour face she was pulling for everyone else melted and she started to explain and told us how to appeal.

So we went back to Roehampton, asked the International Students' Office if we could use their FAX machine and went back to my flat to write the letter of appeal. Benoit wrote:
Dear Sir or madam,
[...] I, benoit Champeau, am a French national. Frances and I are engaged, and since Frances is going back to her home country in September for a few months, her visit in July will be our last chance to see each other this year. Therefore it is very important for us.
*the lights dim, the violins play and Benoit takes out a hanky and sniffles*

And that's when it downed on your Dear Ditz why Benoit has been so adamant that we take this holiday in Florence. It WAS going to be our last holiday together for this year. I was quite touched. Sweet boy.

I wnet back on Tuesday to see if they would FAX a reply. No. Then today:
Frances Asuncion ONG
This is your emergency visa appointment confirmation letter. [...] This appointment has been granted due to exceptional circumstances and will not be renewed. MONDAY 11 JULY 2005 At 10.00am.

Aw bless. So they weren't stupid. Just mean. But Benoit's sad little letter must have melted something. Ah, l'amour.

So of course I texted Benoit: I got a letter from the consul today. We were denied. Can we talk online tonight?

I know, I know, I'm awful. But at the time it seemed really funny. And I kept thinking, well it will be over soon. I'll see him online and tell him the good news and how happy will we be then? But apparently there was a lot I needed to know about Benoit.

From the time I texted him at 4pm till the time we spoke to each other online at 7pm, Benoit had managed to call the son of the French ambassador to Denmark and the son of the French ambassador to Bangladesh in the hope that ANY of these flimsy diplomatic ties would be able to help or advise him on what to do. Oh evil heartless bitch. I didn't know he'd be so...pro-active.

He's so cute I can't stand this! When we're in Florence I'll make sure he sleeps well, eats well and wears his sunscreen everyday. And, ehem...

[So now I've got all of next week to finish the bulk of my dissertation AND the joint essay. But it's ok. I'm pumped. There's NO WAY I'm working on anything but my tan in late July.]