London – An English Holiday
Marty and I just arrived back to Toulouse after a 4-day stay in London. First, I must tell you that English is a wonderful language. In London we luxuriated in our ability to understand everything people told us. We were giddy with the power of being able to be understood by everyone we spoke to. We were no longer babbling idiots with blank stares of incomprehension affixed on our faces. We were fluent, and we knew it. We ruled.
As soon as we stepped on the British-run plane that tense feeling of not knowing if we were going to understand what was going on slipped away. For me, it was the first time since we arrived in France in August that I completely relaxed. I casually made phone calls without having to prepare my sentences in advance. Strangers approaching me on the street were no longer a source of anxiety. I knew I would understand their question, even if I didn’t know the answer. I breezily chatted with the people I encountered. I recognized accents and knew if people were native English speakers. I could handle all the accents I encountered with grace and agility. I knew what was going on. I walked with a new confidence. I lost that frightened look. I could communicate! I love London.
We didn’t go to London for an English holiday. In fact, I didn’t really want to go to London because I didn’t want to interrupt my French studies. We went to London because the French sent us there. No, they didn’t send us there in order to give themselves a respite from our bad French. No, they sent us there to pick up my visa. Why, you might ask, must I go to London to pick up my visa for France? Good question.
Last summer, I steadfastly researched the visa requirements for Marty and me to live in France. As Americans, we can visit France for three months without a visa, but in order to stay for a year and to get a residency permit, we need a visa. We dutifully completed long-stay visa forms, and I contacted the French consulate in Boston requesting clarification about what type of visa I should apply for. They assured me (in writing) that I did not require a visa and that Marty’s visa would cover both of us. The idea of going to France as “the wife” was a bit irksome and a little suspicious to me, so I accompanied Marty to the French Consulate with my own visa application completed and ready to submit. No, they assured me again in Boston that I didn’t need a visa. I could get my residency permit from the Prefecture in Toulouse with just Marty’s visa. I swallowed my pride and accepted the verdict. I was going to France as “the wife.”
The Prefecture in Toulouse, however, had different ideas about my identity. When I went to pick up the paperwork for our residency permits they immediately told me that I needed a visa. I was prepared. I instantly pulled out the letter from the French Consulate in Boston saying that I didn’t need a visa. Non, said the Prefecture, you need a visa to get a residency permit. An international crisis ensued. The Secretary General of Marty’s institute began a diplomatic negotiation between the Prefecture in Toulouse and Mrs. Boeuf in Boston on my behalf (yes, you read it correctly, that would be Mrs. Beef). Of course, we don’t really know who is right in this diplomatic quagmire, but our bets are with the Consulate in Boston because they appear to be far more competent than the Prefecture in Toulouse. Power prevails, however, and the Prefecture ultimately has the power to issue residency permits. If they say I need a visa, they win. The end result is that Mrs. Beef did us a favor and sent my visa to London, thereby saving me a trip to Boston.
Hmmn, you may be thinking, why didn’t they really do me a favor and send my visa to Toulouse? I asked this question many times myself. Apparently visas have to be issued outside of the country, and they aren’t actually valid until you cross the border of the country and have your passport stamped. London was deemed the best choice because it is actually quite cheap to fly to London from Toulouse, and, as previously noted, we have a linguistic advantage in London. Actually, nobody asked us if we wanted to go to London, it was, as they say, a “fait accompli” by the time we learned of it.
(As an aside, flights between Toulouse and London can be as cheap as .01 cents if you book in advance. It is a mystery how an airline can profitably offer seats this cheaply, but we must accept the inscrutability of airline economics. In the end, you end up paying about $30 in airport fees and taxes, even with a .01 fair. For those of you considering visiting us, if you find a cheap flight to London or simply want to include London in your journey, you may want to book London/Toulouse as a separate flight. Contact me for details.)
In any case, London was an unexpected treat. We stayed with Marty’s old friend and University of Chicago roommate Tim, who recently moved to London. It was fun for me to finally meet Tim, whom I had heard of many times before. Tim is also a great restaurant aficionado, so we ate well. Tim took us on a night tour of London which included a marvelous ride on London’s Eye. The Eye is a giant Ferris wheel that, instead of traditional Ferris wheel seats, has plastic capsules that you stand in to get amazing views of London. The wheel takes 30 minutes to complete a full revolution, during which you simply look and enjoy. The Eye was recently voted the world’s best tourist attraction in a Pringle’s poll, and there are plans for other cities to build similar Ferris wheels. (One has to wonder why Pringles is interested in tourist attractions; perhaps they are looking for new shapes to mold their chips.) You can see live webcam video taken from the Eye at http://www.camvista.com/england/london/bale.php3.
We also met Lamin, a Gambian student currently studying just outside of London. I knew Lamin when I lived with him and his family in Gambia when he was about eight years old. He hadn’t visited London before, so we had a great time enjoying his enthusiasm for places like Buckingham Palace and the House of Parliament. Like most of the Gambian children I knew, Lamin has retained his exuberance and effervescence into adulthood.
Our trip was obviously somewhat enchanted because we managed to get third row, center seats for The Producers at half price. Watching this somewhat raunchy musical by Mel Brooks in an elegant British theater was great fun. To my surprise, they sold ice cream in the theater during intermission. When I expressed my surprise that they allowed food in the theater, the young woman selling the ice cream said that it wouldn’t be theater without ice cream. The people behind us literally had bags of candy that they inhaled before the show. So much for stuffy Brits; another stereotype goes up in flames.
We also spent a few hours wandering around the British Natural History Museum. The building itself is simply incredible and must be seen. Its architectural details include fish, birds, reptiles, monkeys and other creatures featured in stone. We also marveled at Herrod’s Christmas windows which combined video of the latest James Bond movie, Casino Royale, with mannequins dressed in stunning outfits that we don’t normally encounter in our Birkenstock-clad social circle.
London has a dark side, however. We were stunned by the prices. London is officially ranked as one of the most expensive cities in the world, and we believe them. We found the prices to be two to three times what we would expect to pay in Toulouse. Our first three-stop hop on the “Tube” cost us $6 each – we should have walked. (Tim helpfully directed us to the Oyster cards, which allow you to travel the subway at half price.) The pound is worth approximately $2, so the prices don’t look too bad in pounds. It’s only when you convert them to dollars that you feel the hit, so you can ease the pain by making believe the price is dollars and not pounds.
We came back to sunshine in Toulouse this morning. The linguistic tension has returned to my body and the feelings of inadequacy have resurfaced. Tomorrow I return to school and face the French jungle again. For at least a few days, however, I was king.
As soon as we stepped on the British-run plane that tense feeling of not knowing if we were going to understand what was going on slipped away. For me, it was the first time since we arrived in France in August that I completely relaxed. I casually made phone calls without having to prepare my sentences in advance. Strangers approaching me on the street were no longer a source of anxiety. I knew I would understand their question, even if I didn’t know the answer. I breezily chatted with the people I encountered. I recognized accents and knew if people were native English speakers. I could handle all the accents I encountered with grace and agility. I knew what was going on. I walked with a new confidence. I lost that frightened look. I could communicate! I love London.
We didn’t go to London for an English holiday. In fact, I didn’t really want to go to London because I didn’t want to interrupt my French studies. We went to London because the French sent us there. No, they didn’t send us there in order to give themselves a respite from our bad French. No, they sent us there to pick up my visa. Why, you might ask, must I go to London to pick up my visa for France? Good question.
Last summer, I steadfastly researched the visa requirements for Marty and me to live in France. As Americans, we can visit France for three months without a visa, but in order to stay for a year and to get a residency permit, we need a visa. We dutifully completed long-stay visa forms, and I contacted the French consulate in Boston requesting clarification about what type of visa I should apply for. They assured me (in writing) that I did not require a visa and that Marty’s visa would cover both of us. The idea of going to France as “the wife” was a bit irksome and a little suspicious to me, so I accompanied Marty to the French Consulate with my own visa application completed and ready to submit. No, they assured me again in Boston that I didn’t need a visa. I could get my residency permit from the Prefecture in Toulouse with just Marty’s visa. I swallowed my pride and accepted the verdict. I was going to France as “the wife.”
The Prefecture in Toulouse, however, had different ideas about my identity. When I went to pick up the paperwork for our residency permits they immediately told me that I needed a visa. I was prepared. I instantly pulled out the letter from the French Consulate in Boston saying that I didn’t need a visa. Non, said the Prefecture, you need a visa to get a residency permit. An international crisis ensued. The Secretary General of Marty’s institute began a diplomatic negotiation between the Prefecture in Toulouse and Mrs. Boeuf in Boston on my behalf (yes, you read it correctly, that would be Mrs. Beef). Of course, we don’t really know who is right in this diplomatic quagmire, but our bets are with the Consulate in Boston because they appear to be far more competent than the Prefecture in Toulouse. Power prevails, however, and the Prefecture ultimately has the power to issue residency permits. If they say I need a visa, they win. The end result is that Mrs. Beef did us a favor and sent my visa to London, thereby saving me a trip to Boston.
Hmmn, you may be thinking, why didn’t they really do me a favor and send my visa to Toulouse? I asked this question many times myself. Apparently visas have to be issued outside of the country, and they aren’t actually valid until you cross the border of the country and have your passport stamped. London was deemed the best choice because it is actually quite cheap to fly to London from Toulouse, and, as previously noted, we have a linguistic advantage in London. Actually, nobody asked us if we wanted to go to London, it was, as they say, a “fait accompli” by the time we learned of it.
(As an aside, flights between Toulouse and London can be as cheap as .01 cents if you book in advance. It is a mystery how an airline can profitably offer seats this cheaply, but we must accept the inscrutability of airline economics. In the end, you end up paying about $30 in airport fees and taxes, even with a .01 fair. For those of you considering visiting us, if you find a cheap flight to London or simply want to include London in your journey, you may want to book London/Toulouse as a separate flight. Contact me for details.)
In any case, London was an unexpected treat. We stayed with Marty’s old friend and University of Chicago roommate Tim, who recently moved to London. It was fun for me to finally meet Tim, whom I had heard of many times before. Tim is also a great restaurant aficionado, so we ate well. Tim took us on a night tour of London which included a marvelous ride on London’s Eye. The Eye is a giant Ferris wheel that, instead of traditional Ferris wheel seats, has plastic capsules that you stand in to get amazing views of London. The wheel takes 30 minutes to complete a full revolution, during which you simply look and enjoy. The Eye was recently voted the world’s best tourist attraction in a Pringle’s poll, and there are plans for other cities to build similar Ferris wheels. (One has to wonder why Pringles is interested in tourist attractions; perhaps they are looking for new shapes to mold their chips.) You can see live webcam video taken from the Eye at http://www.camvista.com/england/london/bale.php3.
We also met Lamin, a Gambian student currently studying just outside of London. I knew Lamin when I lived with him and his family in Gambia when he was about eight years old. He hadn’t visited London before, so we had a great time enjoying his enthusiasm for places like Buckingham Palace and the House of Parliament. Like most of the Gambian children I knew, Lamin has retained his exuberance and effervescence into adulthood.
Our trip was obviously somewhat enchanted because we managed to get third row, center seats for The Producers at half price. Watching this somewhat raunchy musical by Mel Brooks in an elegant British theater was great fun. To my surprise, they sold ice cream in the theater during intermission. When I expressed my surprise that they allowed food in the theater, the young woman selling the ice cream said that it wouldn’t be theater without ice cream. The people behind us literally had bags of candy that they inhaled before the show. So much for stuffy Brits; another stereotype goes up in flames.
We also spent a few hours wandering around the British Natural History Museum. The building itself is simply incredible and must be seen. Its architectural details include fish, birds, reptiles, monkeys and other creatures featured in stone. We also marveled at Herrod’s Christmas windows which combined video of the latest James Bond movie, Casino Royale, with mannequins dressed in stunning outfits that we don’t normally encounter in our Birkenstock-clad social circle.
London has a dark side, however. We were stunned by the prices. London is officially ranked as one of the most expensive cities in the world, and we believe them. We found the prices to be two to three times what we would expect to pay in Toulouse. Our first three-stop hop on the “Tube” cost us $6 each – we should have walked. (Tim helpfully directed us to the Oyster cards, which allow you to travel the subway at half price.) The pound is worth approximately $2, so the prices don’t look too bad in pounds. It’s only when you convert them to dollars that you feel the hit, so you can ease the pain by making believe the price is dollars and not pounds.
We came back to sunshine in Toulouse this morning. The linguistic tension has returned to my body and the feelings of inadequacy have resurfaced. Tomorrow I return to school and face the French jungle again. For at least a few days, however, I was king.
posted by Nancy at 11:57 AM
2 Comments:
Good food in the UK? Are you sure? I hope you didn’t pick up any Polonium 210! It seems to everywhere in London. :-)
Anyway, while your bureaucratic foibles are frustrating, I believe that it is not uncommon to have to exit a country to get a visa. Some post-docs that I knew at URI had to go to Montreal to have their visas renewed.
Similarly, if you want to purchase a railpass for the trains in Japan you must do it before you go. You can’t get them in Japan.
Bienvenue à Toulouse
About 10 years ago when the three of us went to London, we were able to buy a 1-week pass on the Tube. It was very clear, however, that it had to be purchased in advance in the US because the discounted pass is not available in the UK. Go figure.
Peter
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