Tuesday 15 April 2008

Third time's the charm..

The ongoing China Visa story part 358

So, it's up and out of The Towers by 7am, to be down to the Chinese Embassy by 7:30. I'm all set with a vat of coffee, a George Saunders book and some music to keep me company. Hearteningly there's only about 20 people lined up at Portland Place when I arrive. The sun is shining and my hopes are up. Nothing is going to go wrong today!

Then something goes wrong. One of the guys at the front of the queue beckons me over to read a note posted on the outside of the Embassy door. From today, the People's Republic wants not only a lengthy two page form and a photo of you, but the details of your flight AND confirmation of what hotel you are staying at. My heart sinks. The details are kept on my webmail, and they need printed copies for their files. Going back to The Towers and getting the info would take over an hour, and the queue would lengthen considerably. I need this now!

Reluctantly I race towards Oxford Circus to try and find an internet cafe. I pass BBC Broadcasting House and wonder if there's anyone working early who I know to blag me in. Then I realise the people I know are over at White City. Damn! I spy two internet places nearby but they don't open for another hour or so.

Standing on Oxford Street I compose myself. Where can you get anything, day or night in London...? Answer: Soho! I barrel down Wardour Street to a 24 hour copy shop. The owner unlocks the door and lets me in. I manage to explain my predicament, while surrounded by dormant printers and copiers, waiting to spring into inky life. So will he help me?

"No, we don't offer that service, sir"

What?? You're a 24 hour print service! I NEED to print. Surely this is EXACTLY the service you should be offering! I even proffer a small bribe in his direction to help me out. Still the uptight jobsworth says no. I spy a PC behind his shoulder and wonder, as this is an emergency, if it would be ethical to throw him out of the way and commandeer his keyboard.

Luckily we don't come to blows as he mentions a 'net cafe close by. I turn and disappear out of the door. Success! Five minutes later I'm clutching my precious documents and running back down Oxford Street.

The queue hasn't grown too much in my 30 minute departure. The new scheme seems to have scared people away. The queue time passes and by 10am I've handed in my form. Time to celebrate this first triumph. I stride down to Market Place for a full english breakfast. There's no finer thing to lift the spirits. The folks at this brilliant blog on the great british brekkie have got it right.

After being suitably replenished, I then head back to the embassy. After another thirty minute queue, and handing over 50 GBP plus my sanity, I get the Visa. It's 11:58 am. The place shuts dead on midday.

No comments: